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coexistentialism · 6 months

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AAAA I have so many thoughts actually

I think what people don't realize is that you oftentimes might not know you have the symptoms of DID until AFTER you start to explore the idea of having it in the first place.

It was so difficult trying to figure out what symptoms applied to me, what symptoms I related to, what symptoms I was exhibiting, etc.

And that's because DID in and of itself oftentimes even hides those symptoms from you in the first place (especially if you are polyfragmented).

You don't realize what symptoms you have until you really dive deep and try to LOOK for the symptoms in the first place.

Like, not only can a LOT of the DID symptoms be chalked up to "normal, everyday things", but the amnesia and general dissociation that comes along with the disorder makes it difficult to really KNOW if you have those symptoms, how often you experience them if at all. It makes it hard to say for certain "yes, I relate to that" because amnesia can make it seem like you never experience it, or that you "only rarely, if ever" experience it. And dissociation, shame, denial, etc. can make it to where you downplay it if you DO experience it. AND, as I said, a lot of it is oftentimes excused by other things.

Especially, for me particularly, I never really related to "derealization/depersonalization."

I certainly did in the past, and I know I still do, but the thing is, I don't personally relate to the way that dissociation is DESCRIBED.

And I don't know if I'm alone in that?

That DES test that everybody talks about is like my #1 enemy (this is a joke/light-hearted lmfao) because I could never really understand or relate or apply the things that the questions are asking me to myself. I also could not understand what they mean, and a lot of them did not apply to me because of my specific life circumstances, etc.

I would try taking that test on multiple different occasions and feel upset, frustrated and invalidated, because I could not understand the questions; I could not understand what they mean and apply them to myself; I could not make an accurate guesstimate on "how often" they applied to me; and I couldn't relate to them.

I would try taking it and would get scored anywhere from around 23% to 32% at MOST. And it invalidated me so bad, because my friends would be getting scores in the 40% ranges, and I felt like "I guess I don't have DID then" and "I guess I just don't have it that bad"

I would see people making posts about the test online and "brag" almost about "haha lol I got 48% lol oops" and I felt so invalidated because I never saw anybody get below that. It made me feel like I don't have DID at all and that I didn't have it that bad.

And the people who would tell me they didn't think I had DID, etc. and even one therapist (who was really shit honestly oh God I should make a post rambling about him cause. Oh Boy.) and a random psychiatrist I tried to see for a diagnosis (I hoped to be able to get diagnosed and go straight to a therapist instead of having to see a therapist to diagnose me first - I do not recommend this) (She was also horrible), coupled with the fact I just never met or saw anybody else like me, made it real difficult to believe that I could possibly have DID or OSDD.

And looking back at everything, my unawareness of everything - my symptoms, my feelings, everything - made it so much more difficult to be able to describe the precise experiences I was having.

Here I was, going out of my way to "that wasn't another alter- it was just.. Me, doing and saying things, by choice, I am always in control, it wasn't someone else!!!" while every single person around me so outwardly, so flawlessly, and so effortlessly seemed to fit right into system spaces; using the language of "fronting", "switching", "co-consciousness" as if it came naturally to them, and I could never understand, I could never relate.

No matter how much research I had done, I constantly felt like I was "missing" something - like everybody else around me already caught on and understood their experiences and their alters and everything, and I was an outsider intruding in spaces I didn't belong.

No matter how much I thought I knew about DID, no matter how much people and the internet would say "hey, you know DID doesn't require (xyz)", I still felt like "but surely there's something missing that I'm not getting; surely there's something that these people are experiencing that I clearly am not, because if I was, wouldn't I be able to relate to these words to? Wouldn't I know who my alters are by now? It's been years, why am I still so in the dark, and everybody else around me knows so much? There MUST be something I'm missing."

I still felt like I was waiting for myself to pass out or have some experience where I've just "teleported" somewhere with no memory of how I got there, or some "obvious" sign that I've switched, and no matter how much research I did, no matter what people told me, I was still waiting, I was still expecting SOMETHING.

SOMETHING that would make it "obvious" that I've switched; SOMETHING that would make it "obvious" that I have DID; SOMETHING that would make it clear as day and undeniable.

Of course it never happened, because it doesn't work like that.

But when people so effortlessly talk about their alters using language like this:

"Gary is really depressed and likes to write poetry; he only fronts to feel our depression. He doesn't really like to talk to people, so he keeps to himself. He speaks bluntly and doesn't even really like to speak in general, it's too much energy for him when he fronts."

Instead of:

"When I'm really depressed, I really like to write poetry. I don't really like to talk to people when I feel that way, when I'm in that state, and I don't really like to speak at all, it feels like too much energy, when I'm in that state of mind. I also tend to speak more bluntly when I'm like that."

It becomes hard to believe that you have DID at all when the first example is the only way people seem to talk about their alters and their DID.

With the first example, it gives the impression that you're speaking about a totally separate person (which, is totally valid if your alters work that way, but that is besides my point here). It gives the impression that the person who has DID/OSDD is speaking about totally separate people, and like "someone else is in control of that person" or something. At least to me, it did. And that's what I was waiting for, some "obvious" sign, some "obvious" THING to happen to me that would make it clear as day that I had switched, that I was a totally different person, etc. and I was still waiting for SOMETHING to happen, despite what I had researched, despite what people said, because the only way people ever talk about their alters is with the first example.

And I couldn't get it, I couldn't relate, I couldn't understand.

When the only language you are given to explain a phenomenon is language you cannot relate to, it only makes sense that you then decide you must not relate to that phenomena.

It's like if I tried to find resources about DID/OSDD in a language I can't understand, putting it through Google Translate a few times, and then trying to read it and then trying to apply it to myself.

There are endless ways to describe subjective experiences, and when you are only given a few descriptions to choose from, it's easy to say "I don't relate to any of these!" when there are billions of other ways to describe the same phenomena.

It's like if you were told to describe an apple, but you were only given three descriptions to choose from, all of which may or may not be true, depending on the size of the apple, what kind of apple, the color, etc.

Like you're given these three options to describe an apple:

Sweet

Green

Large

Like, sure, all three could apple to a wide variety of different apples, but... There are so many other descriptions you could choose from, and these three descriptions may not apply to every single apple. Sometimes apples are not green, and sometimes they aren't so much sweet as they are sour. Sometimes they are small.

But when you're only told that these are three examples of descriptions of an apple, and you're not given any other language, you start looking at red apples or tiny apples or sour apples and questioning "is that really an apple..?"

*This also applies to OSDD if it applies, I'm just a guy with DID and can only speak about DID since I don't have OSDD

#my posts #actuallyosdd #actuallydid #did system #osdd system

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galene-gothic · 1 year

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𝖶𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗ PAID SERVICES

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

꒰ Who do you think you are ? ꒱

This seems to be touching more on what you're experiencing right now or have experienced in the past. You think that you're heartbroken, it's coming through quite strongly here. You think that your emotions run deep which results in you feeling hurt very deeply too. You think that you're lonely and kinda alienated from others. Some of you might have gotten deeply betrayed by people who you really trusted which has left you wondering if it's even worth it at all. I think that we both know that you're not in the best place right now. However, you're starting to have realisations that are really helping you at this time. As much as you're heartbroken, you don't want to and will not lose your compassionate self. You're seperating yourself from things and people that hurt you but I'm getting that you're the kind of person who desires closures so things feel incomplete to you on a subconscious level but you have a deep understanding that you've outgrown those situations and even if it's heartbreaking, you're moving away, even if it's uncomfortable, you're starting to choose peace and happiness. You think that you're someone who learns lessons from every experience especially heartwrenching ones.

You think that right now you're kind of purging, the universe/god/whatever you believe in seems to be clearing away the crap from your life, be it people, situations or your own unhealthy habits. I'm getting that this purging is very uncomfortable for you. You think that you've got atleast alright social skills. You think that you're open to loving people and want to express positive emotions (affection) to others in a deep and touching manner. You think that you are a person who helps others heal even if it triggers them, you see yourself as someone who has tried to heal really vile people in the past. I'm getting that you're starting to take more pride in having been a good friend/partner/daughter to people, if you don't then you should. You think that you're really careful with people's emotions and pretty good at understanding patterns especially emotional ones. You seem to be going through a new beginning, emotionally. You see yourself as peace loving. When you love someone you start looking at things from their perspective, you're very sensitive towards their needs and even if you have gotten into situations that were abusive or toxic, you've always tried to maintain the other person's or the relationship's peace. You think that people find it easier to open up to you regarding things than with others.

꒰ Who are you, really ? ꒱

You're someone who wants to leave behind a legacy. You wish to be abundant in every sense, you want the money, the love, the life that others can only dream of having. You care about your family deeply, for some of you, you might have family issues but even so, you sacrifice a lot for them. When you love someone, you consider them to be family and they become the center of your world. You are wealthy, if not financially (yet), you're wealthy when it comes to experiences. You might have experienced significant losses in your life which has always managed to get you closer to yourself. You like to make others feel like they belong because you've felt like you don't fit in for majority of your life, for some of you, it's still difficult to find people who you truly vibe with. The people who make you feel like you belong are very important to you, you grow affection towards such people very easily. You're a harmonious person, you care about reputation, material resources and money a lot but you hold just as much value to emotions, relationships (both platonic and romantic) and growing internally.

Compared to other people, you're pretty self aware in regards to your negative traits and know how to live with integrity which provides you with a sense of fulfillment. The thing about you guys is that you cannot be labelled because of how complex your personality is and also because of how balanced you are. While, for some people they could choose between love and money if they had to, it's difficult for you to do so because of how much importance you hold to both of them. I'm getting that you guys want a stable environment, a home to call your own but also cannot exactly be tied down, you likely know that you cannot do a 9-5 but a part of you likes the structure and routine that a 9-5 provides. There's a part of you that wants to settle down and there's another part of you that wants to fly really high. You're integrating a different version of yourself in your current self and it has not been easy for you but you're resilient and you're completing a cycle. You're strong enough to face any challenge, you've always overcome the hardest battles and you'll continue doing so in the future if it comes to it. I'm so proud of you.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

꒰ Who do you think you are ? ꒱

You guys probably know that you're pretty. You think that you're a mature person who's emotionally intelligent. You think that you're kind, loving and sensitive. You think that you get hurt pretty easily. You think that one of your positive and negative traits is your ability to daydream. You think that you're a loyal and forgiving person who loves people at all costs. You think that you hope for the best for people. You think you've got many deep insights on life and that your presence is healing. You think that you're understanding and forgiving. However, you also think that you end up burdening yourself by taking responsibility for other people's emotions. You see yourself as someone who's kind of burnt out as of lately. You think that you're often taken for granted and tend to struggle a lot :(. Most of you haven't had an easy life but you keep on pushing yourself. Your ability to never give up is really admirable and I think that you respect yourself for that. You might have gone through humbling experiences recently which is causing you to focus on your duties and confidence. You think that you're a hardworking person who doesn't really mind carrying the relationship, I think that is starting to change. You think that you have the tendency to be obsessive at times.

In the past, you might have made a lot of sacrifices for others but now you're starting to realise that that's not how it's supposed to be. Now, you're starting to make sacrifices for the life you wish to live is what I'm getting. You think that you tend to take more than you can handle but still manage to get it done, however, you're starting to realize that biting more than you can chew is not good for you. You think that you're really ambitious but you might have been lazy in the past, you're starting to stay disciplined now and I think that's one of the best things that you've been doing. You think that you tend to get really stressed out because of how seriously you take everything. You think that you've lost yourself but you're trying to take this opportunity to build yourself as a better person. I'm getting that you've tried to protect people by handling their responsibilities, helping them work through their trauma, even taking blame for their mistakes, etc. Which didn't leave you well. You might have felt like you destroyed yourself but you're starting to build compassion towards yourself again because you realise that it's not your fault that you care about people, it's not your fault that they couldn't have been kinder to you, it's on them, it's their loss. You tend to struggle with loneliness.

꒰ Who are you, really ? ꒱

You're actually who you think that you are. You're an emotionally intelligent person and love people deeply. You're sensitive, loyal, forgiving and never give up on love. You have a lot of empathy towards others. I think that you don't know some things about yourself though or even though you know it, you tap into those parts very unconsciously. First of all, you care about money and material possessions, you are also pretty thrifty with money. You are a pretty practical person and likes to weigh out risks and potential outcomes before investing. Your ability to grow is beyond astounding, you're always growing, you're always becoming better but you haven't tapped into your potential entirely. You like to set goals and follow through with achieving them. Even though you have the tendency to daydream, you're much more grounded than other people your age. You have so much potential that you're not even aware of. Right now, some of you here are like "I know that I have a lot of potential" but you have even more potential than you think.

You especially have a lot of potential when it comes to money, you know how to be realistic when things come to it. I'm not sure how to say it but your relationship with earth or the material realm is much stronger than your relationship with spirit. You can ground anything you want to into reality unless you're choosing to be lazy 💀. Some of you might be artists here, while some of you have the soul of an artist but haven't been able to harbour your skills to the point where you could call yourself an artist? I'm getting that in 2023, you should focus on money and improving your skills when it comes to any artform that you feel called to. For you, healing is very important. You really care about your own and other people's emotions. I get the vibe that people not considering your emotions can make you really upset at times even though usually you choose to understand where they're coming from. You're a really loving person too. You're a really romantic person who has deep insights on life. You might sometimes feel like no one deserves you because of how loving you are.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

꒰ Who do you think you are ? ꒱

Right now, you're probably transitioning and you're aware of it. You think that you're someone who overcomes any hardship that comes upon you. You think that you're in a healing period right now. I'm also getting that you might have helped or tried to save a lot of people in the past when they were down but when you're down, you're having to go through everything all by yourself. You seem to be running away from something. I'm getting that it's not anything bad, like you're not ghosting people, you're just choosing to get away from bad energy. You think that things are finally starting to be calmer for you and that you're moving into a positive direction. You're making a lot of progress in your everyday life. You think that you're someone who learns from your regrets. You think that you've mentally left situations even if you're unable to leave them physically due to whatever reason. You think that you have a lot of courage and are an independent thinker. You think that you're releasing your past pains and starting to take more responsibility over your own happiness. You're likely exhausted and taking a rest right now.

You're trying your best to regain control over your life again and to balance things out. You feel supported by the universe or whatever you believe in right now, you feel like the universe sends in someone to help redirect you everytime you are about to go astray. You think that you're moving towards creating a more stable and comfortable life for yourself. You're either on the verge of leaving someone or something in the past or you already have. This is talking more about things that you're going through and the energy you're in right now. Let's move towards what you think about yourself, you think that you're a prideful person. I'm getting that it's very important for you to be proud of yourself, proud of your partner, proud of your friends, etc. You think that you naturally attract attention. You think that you're a confident person who possesses a lot of inner strength. You're starting to realise that achievements mean a lot to you. You want to be successful and some of you have a feeling that you are destined to be in the public eye in some way. You think that you're constantly working on improving yourself as being and feeling confident is very important to you.

꒰ Who are you, really ? ꒱

One thing I can clearly pick up on is that you feel completely drained out. I'm actually surprised that you still have the energy to try and make your life better. Your attempt at trying to stay positive is quite admirable too. You have a lot of setbacks in your life right now. It's as if nothing is working out. It seems to be really worrisome to be honest, you might be on the verge of not being able to continue your education or job anymore, some of you might be on the verge of losing your home, etc. You're still choosing to be courageous and not lose your mind though. You're persistent on making things better for yourself. You've learnt lessons from your past failures and mistakes and you're choosing to practically apply those lessons into your life. You also seem to be really guarded, with your time, energy, money, information about your life, etc. Regardless of how bad things might be going for you and how many setbacks seem to be placed on your path, you're choosing to push forward. You're tired of everything, you just want to be stable at this point. You also seem to be really wounded from all your past experiences. You're actually going through a really hard time right now, you know that but you don't feel like it because you are doing your best, I'm so proud of you. You're a resilient person who's choosing to have faith in how things play out while still trying your best to get your desired outcome/outcomes. It's like, you know that things can't possibly get any worse so you might as well choose to have a positive attitude towards things, that's what you think subconsciously.

I think again, we ended up picking up more of your energy than on you, so moving on to who you really are. You were meant to give out and receive love. Socializing is like second nature to you. Maybe, not anymore but most of you were very good at socializing as a child. You hold pure intentions towards other people and choose to deal with emotions in a balanced way. You're someone who doesn't really try to make your feelings towards someone stop growing unless they do you dirty. You also really seem to enjoy the early stages of relationships and crushes. You're an emotionally open person even though you're really guarded and choose to love people freely. However, you might have a fear of commitment and might purposely like people who are commitment phobic too or you know you won't last with. You like forming new connections and tend to go with the flow while still wondering how to control situations. You don't seem to have a balance, you either go with the flow to the point you almost don't care or you become really controlling. You're actually very peaceful and peace loving. I'm trying to figure out how and why your life is so chaotic. You know how to maintain your emotional well-being while not losing your ability to love. You're actually pretty satisfied and fulfilled with yourself and that's why you seem to keep going despite everything. You know how to make others happy :'). I'm so proud of you, keep loving, take care.

#pac #pac reading #intuitive readings #pick a card #pick a deck #tarot pac #tarot pick a card #future spouse pick a card

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saltsicklover · 6 months

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Title: Not a Cyclone, But a Monsoon

Part 1 of 2 - Completed

Find Part 2 HERE and my Master List HERE

A request based off of THIS prompt, from the lovely @inkandarsenic

Romantic Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader Past Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Platonic Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson x Fem!Reader

A few uses of Y/N

Word Count: This part: 6k+ Total Fic:20k+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of death, minor character deaths, labor, loss of a child in utero, abandonment, drinking, talks of God and destiny, swearing, general military talk and lingo, descriptions of food and eating, coughing fits, talks of violence, actual violence, blood, vomit and throwing up, mention of near death experiences. ANGST

---

I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Miramar, California. TOP GUN. Six years before the organization of the Dagger Squad.

The Officers Club, better known as The Flight Line Bar sits on post in Miramar, frequented by the big brass and educators at Top Gun. The whole place glows with amber light from the buzzing light fixtures that hang from the rafters, dusty and hot to the touch. This half of base, on the far side of the air field has yet to be updated, evident by the chips in the glasses and the inconsistent flickering of the halogen bulbs. The wallpaper is peeling; discolored around the old neon signs that have slowly begun to fizzle out. If it were any brighter inside those four walls, one might be able to see the discoloration of well walked floors and one too many spilt beers.

Two loan pool tables sit in the center of the bar, their felt faded from use and tearing, flanked by a couple of dart boards, their cork crumbling from age. The patrons look about the same, old and wrinkled with age, lines worn into their faces that read closer to distinguished than wary. That's what the military does to a person, wears itself straight into the skin and makes a home there, the ghosts of lost wingman and battle buddies still looming in the whites of their eyes. Too many memories are stuck in the deep folds of their uniforms, worn in around the elbows and shoulders, the creases worn from friction- salute after salute.

It's really a hard to believe that people still frequent The Flight Line Bar. After all, there are so many better places for the students of Top Gun to meander into, just off post where they don't have to risk rubbing shoulders with their instructors- or heaven forbid, hit on their guest lecturers.

After all, It's all fun and games, flirty touches and smooth words until you're slapped with a SHARP report.

The students always figure out the good places to drink after class, shortly after their arrival after one too many moments spent inside the crumbling bar. The drinks are good in taste, better in price, but not worth it at the risk of saying just the wrong thing to just the wrong person.

The new recruits arrival happens like clockwork, and it's a ritual the newly minted Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson loves to witness. He has been watching the little ordeal for the last four years, with each new Top Gun class, even choosing to mark the date on his calendar after having almost missed an incoming class last year.

The new Top Gun recruits wander into The Flight Line Bar in gaggles. Most still clad in their uniforms if they had been lucky enough to get issued a drinking order. The wide eyed aviators would file up to the bar, uneasy looks on their faces as they took in the ranks drinking around them. If the Flight Line Bar was a small pond, the Top Gun inductees are guppies surrounded by some very big fish. One year, a young aviator even tripped over the base commander's seat and was met with a glare that even Cyclone would have been nervous to stand on the receiving end of.

The recruits each drink a beer, the brave ones chancing a second, before they're heading for the door. Cyclone loves to see the discomfort that would roll off of them the moment they crossed the threshold back into the parking lot. Some would even shiver, which always seems to pull a hearty laugh out of the Admiral.

This year, however, Cyclone is met with a very different scene before him when he himself broke the threshold of the Flight Line Bar. Having been stuck in a meeting with Admiral Kazansky, Cyclone ends up arriving later than the usual crowd of recruits. So, when he finally wanders in, he is met with the fleeting glances of some top brass, but no new eyes. He can't fight the way he almost deflates; after the shit day he managed to barely claw his way through, the one thing he was looking forward to were the wide eyes of the newest, freshest meat that Top Gun managed to recruit.

As if today of all days wasn't hard enough to begin with.

Instead, it looks like a regular Friday night, which wouldn't do the leg work needed to actually flip his day around for the better. But he's already there, the drinks are cheap, and he really, really needs a drink. So, he orders with a silent wave of his hand, the borderline elderly man behind the bar meeting the wave with a nod of his head. Cyclone plops down unceremoniously onto one of the rickety barstools. It almost sways under his weight, however it does creak weakly as he settles. His temple meets his knuckles as he lets out a deep sigh as the beer being set down in front of him. Cyclone can only manage a nod to the bartender before lifting the glass to his lips.

The question of why he still drinks here, in this lousy bar, floats through his head for a moment, but he doesn't put fourth the energy to grant himself with an answer. Maybe it's the cheap beer and half price shots. Or, maybe the fact that he doesn't have to fight off the happy hour drinkers or the five o'clock somewhere partiers that seem to be carried in with the wind. Again, he doesn't entertain the question long enough to form an answer.

Cyclone doesn't even have to glance around the bar to know the crowd this Friday night hosts. Top brass, tired officers, and disgruntled wives, each drinking their own bad days away.

The glass feels about a hundred pounds and it meets the bar top with a loud thunk, the amber liquid sloshing around inside. A bit of foam sneaks over the rim, running down the crack in the glass. Cyclone scratches at it with this thumbnail, wondering how the hell the bar is still getting away with using nearly broken glassware. The thought doesn't last long, not many seem to this evening, and he is bringing the impossibly heavy glass back to his mouth for another sip.

As he tips it back a little further this time, the sulking woman a few seats down catches his attention. If this were a normal Friday night, Cyclone might make bets with himself on just why a woman might be crying, in this bar, all alone. He might puzzle that she is a soon to be ex-wife, her spouse making the choice to cheat on deployment. Maybe she is a daughter, or a sister, or a cousin, her base escort hiding in some other corner of the bar, or of the base. But tonight is not a normal Friday night, regardless of the absence of the new incoming class or not.

The Admiral can't help but watch her lazily out of the corner of his eye. She brings a shitty bar serviette up to wipe at her cheeks, sniffling as the paper touches her skin. Cyclone should feel guilty about how much the sight comforts him. At least, he thinks, someone else seems to be having just as bad of a day as he is.

Then, she catches him staring, his beer lost in the space between his lips and the counter. His fingers are sticky against the chilled glass as he holds it there, still watching her. Cyclone doesn't look away, no point in it now. Then, she breaks the disillusioned bubble forming between them with a sniffle and a hiccup.

It's not a pretty sound, but then again, the sight of the woman in front of him isn't exactly pretty either. After all, it's hard to be pretty when snot is rubbed up over the tip of her nose, catching the light as she sniffles again. Her hair is akin to a nest, like her fingers have been making their way through it over and over again until it is more mess than style.

"I'm sorry, Admiral, Sir," Her voice is straining from holding back tears. There is snot dripping from her nose again, and she wipes it with another flimsy napkin. A half effort is made to sweep back the hair in her face, her well kept fingernails catching in newly formed knots as she pushes it back. The woman doesn't break eye contact with him, even as the sight of him begins to swim through her newly forming tears.

"Hey, kid, it's okay, don't worry about it," His eyes meet the fluttering neon sign behind her, not wanting to lock eyes with her again. It lights her in a halo of sickly blue and Cyclone can see the fizziness of her hair in it's light- it's a half distraction from the way she is still looking at him with those tears in her eyes. He can't stand it when women cry, not after watching his wife, June, sob through her entire pregnancy. It's really the way their eyes glaze over- that helpless look where he can just tell they are fighting with everything they are worth, deep down knowing that it might not be enough. Though, it warms his chest a bit to call her "kid", like he has always been meant to use the term.

The Admiral's brown eyes go misty, locking onto the chipped portion of his glass as the memory of his wife, six months pregnant, stuck in a hospital bed as hot tears carved their way down her face invades Cyclone's memory like a plague. He will never forget the crimson staining her cheeks from the exertion as she fought. And fought. And fought. The way her skin was more chapped than smooth from the constant flow of tears- the way the light would catch the shininess of her skin from the petroleum jelly that he lovingly spread over her weeping skin.

She didn't make it home.

Neither did their baby boy.

And now, as this woman sits a couple stools down, crying in a way that's anything other than gentle, corralling her sobs into the fence of her chest; her face that same color he used to be so used to seeing, that same damn sheen to her skin and Beau feels sick. His eyes snap down to her hands and he watches as her fingers push through the soggy material of the napkin, a sight that makes him grimace a bit. Gross is not the word to use to describe a crying woman, that is fact he has to remind himself of, but the way her fingertips slipped right through that soggy excuse of a napkin is damn close. Cyclone schools his mouth into a tight line, knowing that anything he might say could make both of their day's spiral downwards even faster.

"Admiral," Cyclone wills himself to look her in the face, but his pupils dance around, not locking in on one spot too long. The frizz of her hair, then over the puffy skin under her eyes, then back up to the buzzing neon just over the top of her head. Anything to keep from looking into the woman's eyes. He manages a nod in her direction, rewarded with a hiccup from behind her glass.

A couple more used napkins are tossed up onto the bar, adding them to her steadily growing pile. Her beer is cold, and she can feel it travel all the way down, chilling her burning insides with each swallow. Cyclone takes a drink of his too, waiting for her to continue her thought. He closes his eyes as he tips back the glass, the image of the crying woman in front of him replaced with one of June, and he's not really sure which is worse.

Thunk goes the glass again.

"Can I ask a favor?" Her tone is so sweet, yet so, so sad. He thinks of June, then he nods, his body doing the motion for the sake of his heart, even though his brain is screaming at him. He was taught a long time ago that there are people who don't just ask for favors, specifically strange women in bars, new recruits, and the big brass. But, the woman looks about the age his son should have been now and his chest constricts with the realization that he could have been sitting here drinking with him if things had turned out different.

"How can I help you, kid?" The glass is hitting the bar top just a little bit too hard again, the splinter in the glass growing a millimeter. It's quickly covered by the large pad of Cyclone's thumb.

"I- well, I'm supposed to be here celebrating my Mother's leg-legacy," Another sob-full hiccup breaks up her sentence. Cyclone waits patiently for her to finish. She wipes at the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

"And, she really liked to shoot whiskey," The explanation is coming out too wet and not at all concise, but Beau is nodding along anyway. The woman is rubbing at her eyes again, this time with her fingertips. She carefully runs her nail along the underside of her waterline, trying to catch the new tears before they streak down her cheeks with the rest of them. It doesn't really work, or even if it does, Cyclone can't tell. New tears fill up the spaces the freshly wiped away ones once occupied.

Despite the unclear delivery, Cyclone gets the message. Ordering two double shots of Tennessee whiskey, his wife's favorite, Cyclone offers his best sympathetic smile to his new drinking companion. Then, as the whiskey is being poured and he is shuffling over to the bar stool next to hers. That one creaks and sways too, but he tries not to pay it too much mind.

"What's your name, kid?" There's that warmth again, breaking through the tightening feeling in his chest.

"Lieutenant Y/N "Monsoon" Mitchell," Monsoon raises her shot glass to Cyclone, offering him a nod. It's such an informal introduction but both are thankful for the lack of salute, the lack of military theatrics, tradition, that they are usually stuck to upholding. After all, what is tradition except peer pressure ringing through from years past.

Cyclone knows her, well, her name, this recruit- on paper at least. Suddenly he feels a bit worse for feeling less alone when he spotted her crying.

"Beau "Cyclone" Simpson," He raises his own glass, moving to tap them together. It's a risky move with the state of the glasses, each sporting chips in their rims and hairline fractures down their side. They share sullen, makeshift smiles, neither putting any sort of heart behind the expression. It's a knowing sort of thing, the look they share, one that says I won't say anything if you won't.

"To my Mama, Lieutenant Maria Davis, the best damn medic the USS Vinson ever saw," Monsoon's toast is simple, but she means every single word. Beau's mouth turns up at the corners, nodding to her in acknowledgment of a good job.

"And too my wife, June, and our baby boy, god rest their souls."

The bottoms of the glasses hit the table before the rim makes contact with their lips. The alcohol goes down with a burn, but it's a welcomed sensation. Anything feels better than swallowing grief and there's too much in the air right now. Cyclone chases the shot with a gulp of his beer. Monsoon doesn't. She rests the cool glass against her warm cheek, squeezing her eyes shut. It's a refreshing feeling, almost like she is being rinsed from the inside out.

The alcohol settles deep within them. She is buzzing, he is a bit queasy. Neither need to say a thing about it. It kind of feels like church- like a well spoken sermon where one sits in the pew the furthest from the crowed, tucked away in the back, poking holes in each lesson the preacher delivers. After all, it's not really God's plan, is it? More dumb luck than divine circumstance. Yet, they are both still there, sitting on stool that could give out at any moment as the lights above them buzz and the world feels a little smaller.

"I was watching the class today. You're a damn good pilot, Monsoon," Beau speaks after a few beats of silence, not quite sure what to say. Go with the truth, right? It would be rude to move back to his original seat, especially after the woman next to him just got control of her tears, so small talk is the next best option. She cracks her eyes open, trying to read the expression that follows the compliment. It looks genuine, if not a little proud, so she nods.

And then the world is a bit smaller, still.

"Thank you, Admiral, sir," She sets the glass down, gentler than he has done the whole night, "That means a lot, coming from such a talented pilot as yourself, sir."

And then Cyclone is chuckling, his chest vibrating. That feeling being the closest thing to godly he has felt in a long time, but it's more Zeus, more Jupitar, than it could have ever been God. Monsoon's words are so genuine and it catches him off guard. Most people who say something like that are trying to kiss his ass so hard that there they all but wear marks on the backside of his trousers.

"Are you getting excited to graduate? The ceremony is next week, right?" He asks, bringing his eyes back to the neon behind her. The light above them flickers, neither one acknowledging it. There is a sort of kinship between the way their souls feel and the state of the bar, where living feels like the flickering of a light, tonight.

"Sir?" The question comes with a tilt of her head, her fingers wrapping loosely around her beer. He watches the condensation drip down the glass, the water disappearing behind her fingertips.

"To graduate," he explains like it's the clearest thing, "To finish Top Gun,"

"Oh!" Monsoon almost chuckles, but her soul is too heavy. She settles on a small smile, as kind as she can manage.

"I don't graduate for another six weeks. Today just wrapped my seventh week here, but halfway done does feel good," He can tell she is holding something back with the way her eyes are pinched at the corners, the smiles on her lips straining a bit under her words. Monsoon looks like she almost doesn't believe the words that are leaving her own mouth, but when Cyclone catches her eyes again he can see that look again, I won't say anything if you won't.

"Oh," Beau's hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, all of a sudden feeling like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "In that case, you are one of the best pilots I've ever seen,"

The words fall from his tongue like they are the simplest thing in the world. His eyebrows are still raised as he downs the rest of his beer. He contemplates Monsoon's career in his head, attempting to think back to files he knows are sitting on his desk, but the alcohol swirls the statistics together in his brain.

"Thank you, sir,"

"Is your father planning on coming to your graduation?" The question is so simple, the next plausible question after toasting to her Mother's life. Monsoon bristles at the question, her expression becoming impossibly more tight, pinched.

"He's uhm," The foam in the bottom of Monsoon's glass is the most interesting thing in the room. Tears are flooding her eyes again, and she's turning back to the shitty bar napkins in the even shittier dispenser. Cyclone knows his question hit a nerve based on how she is frantically pulling napkin after napkin out of the dispenser; and the Admiral's guilt swims to the surface. He is sure that the horizon of it can be seen in his iris's, if Monsoon were to look past the evident sadness that has made a home there. He's pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, blue in color and perfectly folded. He offers it to her and it's taken with a slightly shaky hand.

"M.I.A. or AWOL?" Cyclone asks. There's a bit of humor to his question that neither of them comment on.

"He went AWOL when I was seven," She doesn't take her eyes off the popping foam in the bottom of her glass, "Then I suppose he went M.I.A. three years later, when he stopped sending birthday cards,"

Cyclone hates the way her shrugs are all noncommittal and vaguely unbothered. He would have killed for a chance to raise his child, hell, he would move the Earth if that meant he even had a chance to do something. The fact that a man would walk out on his family, on his own child, it makes him sick. There is still something else Monsoon isn't saying; the way she chuckles is almost wax poetic with the way she rolls her eyes. Cyclone raises an eyebrow at her as he gestures to the bartended for two more on tap.

"I was in Admiral Kazansky's office today," She chuckles again, eyes glassy and unfocused. Cyclone slides the new beer over to her. He brings his up to his lips as she breathes deeply, trying to order the words together in her head, words she can't believe she is about to say out loud.

"There's a fucking picture of my father on his desk," Then she is downing the beer in quick, deep gulps. It's half gone before she sets it back down. Cyclone's brain is working on overdrive, swerving the hazy clouds of intoxication, searching for the mental picture of the Admiral's desk. Monsoon is chuckling in quiet disbelief, picturing the damn photo on his desk, her father and the Admiral shaking hands during their time at Top Gun. It makes her sick, really, but she doesn't need to say it based on the way her face feels, all contorted and ugly.

"I didn't even want to be a fucking pilot," Cyclone doesn't know if she is speaking to him anymore, or if the words are meant for her half empty glass. Hell, the way she speaks them they could be meant for the universe, for Khaos, for the air itself. There's a chip on that glass too, in the smooth side if of it, where it tapers down. He watches as Monsoon rubs her fingertip over it again and again and again.

"What did you want to do?" The question is leaving Cyclone's lips before he can stop it, common sense kicking in too slow. He is kicking himself.

Then, her thumb is stopping.

"I wanted to be a RIO," The glass is lifted to her lips again, her eyes rolling at the mere thought, "I wanted to fly with my Dad,"

The laughter that leave Monsoon's lips is dry as autumn air. Her lips crack too, under the stretch of her half hearted smile- one that holds no joy, it's all lukewarm and apathetic. He watches the skin of her lips crack and separate- it looks painful, and Cyclone has to fight not to grimace at the sight. Blood slowly begins to leak through the new flesh wound, bright red as it crests over the fullness of her bottom lip. He remembers watching the same thing happen to Maverick in the back of a helicopter as the wind whipped around them. But then, Maverick wore a truly joyous smile, one that rounded out his cheeks with a rosy hue that went deeper than the wind burn.

Then it hits Cyclone like a ton of bricks- like pulling 6 G's in a fucking barrel roll. Mitchell. This girl in front of him, this broken, fatherless girl is Pete Michell's kid. As if Cyclone needed another reason to hate the reckless man.

Beau wants to punch Pete Michell so hard that the only thing the man can make out in his field of vision is stars. Either the ones in the sky as he is planted with his back in the dirt, or the ones that would no doubt sparkle behind his eyelids. He wants to watch as the other man bleeds from the nose, the lip, the inside of his mouth. Cyclone can almost see the way the blood would pool in the spaces between Maverick's too white teeth, turning them a sickly vermilion. He would take a little too much pride watching the blood drip out of the corner of Pete's mouth, or down the crest of his chin.

Hell, Pete Michell, bloody, is a justified sight in Cyclone's book.

But that wouldn't help her right now. So Cyclone takes a breath, calming the flames of anger, of Hades that often lick at his legs, at his hands, whenever he so much as thinks about Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

He's a bastard, that much is for sure. And it doesn't seem that Monsoon needs reminding of that fact.

"Well, kid," Beau is hunting, hurting for the right words, "If it's not wrong of me to say- your talents would have been wasted as a fucking RIO, especially for that son of a bitch," That gets Monsoon chuckling. She wants to ask if her grandmother was really that bad, but she doesn't make the joke. Though the laugh sounds a bit strangled as it untangles from the dense pain in her chest, Cyclone is happy to hear it. Something small swells in his heart at the sound.

Somewhere, deep in the cavernous spaces of his soul, a broken part of him feels like a father for the first time in years, even if it isn't exactly proper and the woman in front of him isn't his kid. Cyclone feels like a father, not even in a pseudo sense of the word, but truly like a father, and the feeling warms him from the inside out. It overtakes his whole body, leaving him almost buzzing.

Now it's his turn to chuckle. It's sour with pain and longing, but it's still there. Like joy is trying to crawl it's way out, lukewarm and dripping wet.

"Well, Admiral, sir," Monsoon's voice is a little lighter now, sweeter maybe. Cyclone is watching as she's pulling her coat over her shoulders, "Thank you for the favor, and the drink,"

She's nodding her head in the direction of the half full glass still dripping with condensation.

"Thank you for remembering them with me, too," They share a knowing smile, it's a little broken but it is still warm. Again, it's one of those I won't say anything if you won't looks shared between the pair. They lock eyes one last time before Monsoon is turning on her heel, ready to head right out of the front door.

For just a second Cyclone wonders if Monsoon will shudder with relief in the same way the new Top Gun recruits usually do, or if something as simple as that will effect such a skilled pilot. He wonders if anyone will be there for her on graduation day, or if she will be stuck alone in the seas of families and friends- just like he was all those years ago.

I won't say anything if you won't. Yeah, that's not a chance he's willing to take.

"Wait," Cyclone calls after Monsoon, his voice a little too loud and not at all hesitant enough. Monsoon chances a look back, confusion written into the furrow of her brows. He becons he back with a wave of his hand. Cyclone pulls a business card from his front pocket. "I am going TDY, but I should be back for your graduation," The words don't make sense to Monsoon, and neither does the card that he's presenting her between his two fingers. She is cocking her head to the side again, eyebrows furrowed. Cyclone tries to not notice how much she looks like her father.

He notices anyway.

"Email me, remind me of the date, and I'll be there," He is presenting her the card again with a shake of his wrist. Then, she reaches out, grabbing it with nervous fingers.

"Oh, uh-" There are new tears forming in Monsoon's eyes at the words, the card now swimming in her vision. "Thank you, sir,"

"Oh, better yet," Cyclone plucks the card from her fingertips, a move that may have been considered crass but Monsoon can't help but find a little bit funny. Cyclone quickly scribbles down a phone number in messy loops of blue ink, the numbers taking up a little too much room on the back side of the card. Then, he blows on it carefully to make sure the ink won't smudge before handing the card back out to her in the same manner as before.

"Text me the reminder, so it doesn't get lost in my email," Cyclone's smile is so kind and there is a ribbon of hope, a glimmer, really, shinning through the lightest parts of his irises. Monsoon can barely hold back her tears at the sight, and so the card becomes the most interesting thing in the room, held between her shaking fingertips. "You deserve to have a parent there, kid,"

Those are the last words they share that night. They don't need to say anything else. After all, how do you explain the want to stand in as a lost family member? Beau would never admit just how much he's dying for a kid to support, to cheer on and celebrate. Monsoon knows the feeling too, the want to be a daughter who isn't seen as an inconvenience, a burden.

The next time they see each other, Cyclone is sitting in the front row at her Top Gun graduation, a small bouquet of calla lilies on his lap. There is a proud smile on his face and the moment Monsoon sees it there are tears in her eyes. She wonders if this is the feeling she had been missing out on, a father's pride, his love. She tries not to dwell on it, even as walks across that stage.

When the pair meet in the crowd, Cyclone doesn't hesitate to pull her into a hug, one that may not have been professional or regulated, but he feels a weight come off her shoulders the moment he pulls her in. He feels a little more whole too. The hug is short, quick, really, but there are tears in both of their eyes when they pull back.

Cyclone has so much pride for her, and God, Monsoon can feel it. From the way he beams at her to the way he shoves a camera into the hands of his battle buddy, tucking her under his arm. Both clad in dress uniform, posing for the camera as she holds the flowers against her chest to try and quell the beating of her heart. They both sport tears in their eyes, cheeks round and plump red as they smile too wide.

That photo makes onto his desk a week later, displayed in a beautiful mahogany frame.

USS Stennis. Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Four Years before the organization of the Dagger Squad.

The first time Monsoon calls him Pops, it's an accident. She got shipped out to an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. The tour is lonely. She doesn't know the team, the group who have been stationed there for the last six months, and they weren't overly keen on the 'new girl'. Monsoon made it through three months before she started to feel like a part of the team. It's a conscious choice, really, to keep working at fitting in. But in the end that team, those people, they aren't her family and they aren't going to remember her after she ships back stateside.

Emails to and from Cyclone kept her going, as he reassured her that life on the carrier isn't easy on anyone. He urges her to try and make better friends with those who hold a more permanent position on the vessel, so she does her best to take the newbies under her wing. If she wasn't welcomed, that was out of her control, but she can sure as hell make sure that the newbies are.

The plan starts off a little rough, the new sailors unsure of the overly friendly Lieutenant amongst the standoffish seasoned crew of the vessel. But days turn to weeks, trust is earned and the long days and nights onboard get easier to swallow.

Then, Cyclone gets shipped out to the carrier for a briefing. He can't help the rumble of excitement that tracks through him. He might get to see Monsoon, his kid, and he's going to do everything in his power to track her down on board.

There is too much joy on his features as he touches down on the carrier. Too much joy for the briefing he is getting ushered into. It drags on longer than necessary as they hash and rehash out plans for missions. He knows he should care, he really does, but it's not like people's lives are on the line this mission. It's all practice runs and jet maintenance, and how could anyone expect him to focus when his kid is on the same vessel and he is just fucking sitting there. Cyclone barely sits still, knowing the clock is ticking down on his time aboard and if this meeting goes on any longer than planned he is going to miss his chance to see Monsoon.

Around suppertime, Monsoon is heading to the canteen, desperate for some sort of nourishment. It has been a long day, trial after trial, and thankfully for her, she's fairing better than some of her other wingmen. At least she hasn't puked over the side of the carrier since her first week aboard.

She guides one of the newer pilots, Story, down the stairs from the flight deck, her stomach rumbling as they go. The new Lieutenant on board hot on her heels as they make their way down the stairs.

"I know, Story, but you're going to get through this," Monsoon's voice is low as they wind their way through the tight hallways of the lower decks. "You're a good pilot, there is nothing you can't do. So what if you need a little more practice. That's why we're out here, right?"

The younger man hums in agreement, disappointment scribbled all over his face. They are both coated in sweat, Monsoon's hair sticking to her sweat soaked skin. She craves a shower almost as much as she craves food. Her body is weighed down with flight fatigue as she drags her feet.

The halls of the ship begin to smell more and more like hot biscuits and butter the closer they get to the mess hall. Their stomach's rumble in unison at the smell wafting down the hallway. Monsoon is rounding the corner with her front turned towards Story, not bothering a glance in the direction her feet are heading. A second later, her back meets a hard body, a grunt coming out of her mouth at the impact.

Story goes white at the sight of his new friend running straight into an Admiral. Monsoon doesn't like the look on his face, he looks like he's just seen a ghost, or maybe prophesied a murder. So she turns around slowly, so, so slowly. Her eyes are scrunched as she turns. There is already an apology on her lips as Monsoon peeks to see just exactly who she just ran into.

Eyes go wide, and smiles break out over their faces.

The need for food, a hot shower, and sleep dissipate from her body as she looks up at the man in front of her, joy overtaking.

"Pops!" The name comes out a little too quick, catching them both of guard. Monsoon's cheeks flush dark with embarrassment, realizing what she just said and who she just said it to. Without warning, Cyclone is pulling Monsoon into his chest, wrapping her into a warm, tight hug, just the kind of hug a Dad would give.

"Hey Kiddo,"

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astralspellcaster · 7 months

Text

Pac • messages from your past - and future self

TW! This reading handles quite harsh messages, so read only if you consider yourself ready. I wanted to post this reading cause I thought it contains lots of important messages that need to be heard.

I don't own any of these pics, all rights to their owners!

Hii my fellow astrology and tarot enthusiasts! This my 1st pick a pile - reading here in Tumblr and I enjoyed so much while doing this. My studies take so much time, so it's hard to be active, but I try my best to reblog as many posts as possible to share those positive vibes w you! 🍀

Also to remind: If the pile you pick doesn't seem to fit with your life situation, then the message is probably not for you. If so, feel free to choose another pile!

Pile n.o 1.

Hii, pile n.o 1.! There's many harsh messages that need to be heard, so read w compassion. Wish you all the best!

How does your past self view your current situation -

Your not accepting aspects of your life and yourself. You could've been questioning things in your life and something probably feels very off to you; like some changes are needed, so you'd feel satisfied again.

I see that you've a tendency to wear rose-colored glasses; you're afraid and not ready to see situations as they are (at least your mind is saying so). I also see that some of you could possibly have an addiction or are about to develop one, but it will have a harmful impact to your (mental) health, take care.

You could be a person who wants to be seen as a someone "collected" or maybe even strict, and stable; showing your unstable side may have a negative influence on your image. I also sense this kind of toxic/negative masculine energy "the need to be and stay strong", "vulnerability is weakness" - thing.

You definitely have very high expectations set to yourself and also other people might have their expectations on you based how you've been and acted before/in the past. I sense that some of you have experienced something tragic and very dramatic, which has changed mainly your thoughts and beliefs. And I think that your questioning may apply this -> deep transformation has bring something new and that's why you could be afraid to except new things. Also, you don't feel confident enough to come out as a "new" you and I sense that it has to do with your expectations on yourself; what you should be or other people's expectations for you; what others want you to be (in short: you don't want to let others down).

Negative energy you've carried that you should get rid of -

Your fear of letting go and continuing in life. You are afraid of going with the flow and you definitely got major trust issues due to your negative past experiences; life should be predictable on some level.

You should lower your expectations and rather surrender the outcome. Also, if someone gots high expectations for you, just do and be your best. Don't let other people's thoughts or expectations for you affect you. They're not real until you accept them.

You should get comfortable going with the flow; in short, life is a change -> something ends, but it makes room for the new that could even be something better. I hear extremely loud the word "TRUST". Everything's going to be alright once you trust that life is taking you where you should be/belong. 🤍

I feel there's a spiritual awakening ahead you. You may gain spiritual wisdom and due to that lead and guide and help others in their paths.

Messages from your future self -

- Open your heart. - Accept. - Surrender and seek help if needed. -

Be open to new experiences and accept changes. Surrender to life and let it guide you to fulfillness. You don't always have to be strong, it's okay to let your guard down and show your true emotions and colors. Prioritize your health and seek help if needed. You're safe and not alone.

How to improve -

Be proud of yourself and do not hide. I see that you're wearing this kind of cloak to hide the deepest parts of yourself. What brings colors to life is emotions and love that you can't give or receive by being there all hided. Also something I hear that some of you may lack confidence and due to that end up hiding themselves. Let your individuality make this life richier just by being you. 🌈

Pile n.o 2.

Hii, pile n.o 2.! This pile contains harsh messages, so please read w compassion and take care!

How does your past self view your current situation -

You're not fully trusting your inner voice. You may have been struggling with seeing things as they are. Your past self may watch you and have this feeling of grief. They feel they didn't do everything to help the future version of you (now present). Maybe you were in a situation where you felt anxious and didn't know how to handle it or to decide whether it was related to a choice and now your past self could be regretting.

Nonetheless of that, you should not be thinking too much about what you didn't do or what if things could've gone better etc. because all you have is the present and you're not able to change the events of the past.

You may also feel disconnected from yourself and you aren't handling your emotions enough. Your inner child may need nurturing.

Negative energy you've carried that you should get rid of -

You may now fear so much that you aren't seeing things clearly. You may fear so much and it has totally blinded you and now you don't believe in positive outcomes. You've a tendency to make fake negative scenarios, which now are stopping you from living your life at the fullest. You feel the past is haunting you and it's hard to let go, but it's vital for you and your higher self.

In the end, life is just about evolving and growing. Sometimes you have to take a risk, even tho past experiences are haunting you and whispering your ears "what if", you need to trust. You need to trust that you're exactly at the right place at right time and life is taking you where you're meant to be.

Some shadow work is needed and you should try to write your thoughts down and analyze them, you give them power if you want, but in the end you're the one in control.

Messages from your future self -

- You're blessed with love, compassion and wisdom. - Come from the dark and let your light be seen. - You're divinely protected.

There's nothing to worry about. Your mind is only tricking you and that makes you to sabotage yourself. There's imbalance in chackras, they need healing. Also, remember to prioritize self-care; you should look out for yourself and if you're not feeling your best, take care of your mental health.

Cards are also suggesting opening up to someone, e.x for a friend or a close one etc. and maybe they can give the advice you need in this situation.

How to improve -

You need to trust that you're safe and protected. I see that your spirit guides are currently taking care that you'll be safe. You've people around who care and they want you to know that. So if there comes a moment where you hesitate about letting your guard down and let yourself to open up and be vulnerable, do it. It'll get better, once you've gotten relieved of the burden. Your emotions make you a living being. You're important. ❤️

Pile n.o 3.

Hii, pile n.o 3! This pile is very similar to the 1st one, so if you felt any pull toward that you should read it too! Also, this pile has many harsh messages, so please read w compassion!

How does your past self view your current situation -

Your past self looks at you low; I see this kind of a disgust look. I sense you could've done a mistake you're now regretting. Everything seemed and was perfect until now. I think you have this bitter-sweet feeling to you. For some of you, there could even be a loss of a job or a loss of a higher position, e.x. in the work place. I see that some of you, due to that may suffer in terms of money and "worldly" possessions.

Also, this regret could apply if someone has lost trust to someone or even you may have lost someone's trust or someone theirs in you. In extreme cases, some of you may have experienced a betrayal and now you're questioning yourself and lost your inner peace and stability.

Negative energy you've carried that you should get rid of -

You may now be thinking that all is lost, nothing can be done. You've lost faith that your situation will get better. Due to that, you're not seeing clearly and this causes you to lose great opportunities because you think and mourn about the old and what has happened to you in the past. You're stuck.

This is hard, but you need to hear that you can't change the events of the past. It's time for you to move on and take a new course in life, a fresh start. You deserve as much happiness as others do, you currently deny yourself that and these energies are something you need to get rid of. As well as in other piles, your thoughts have no control. Only you can give them your power because you're the one in control.

Some of you have lost the respect towards yourself as a result of being betrayed or being the one who hasn't being trustworthy in the past. You may no longer view yourself as a good person who deserves respectful behavior from others. You're very doubtful about yourself, but seriously you need to let go. You can't change what has happened, but now you're just a more advanced version of yourself who knows how to act in such a situation in the future if there comes a similar moment. Forgive yourself and apologize to someone (if needed) and continue in life. The only one who's holding you back is yourself, so please do a favor to yourself and let yourself to live your life at its fullest.

Messages from your future self -

- You're blessed with dignity and strength. - Open your eyes. - A new door is about to open for you. -

You'll get the respect from others once you've started to respect yourself and to believe that deserve good things as well. Your past doesn't define you and you'll only learn the best from mistakes, so you can just use the name lessons rather than mistakes. Your spirit guides are supporting you in your journey and they hear you, so if you ever need help or feel alone, reach for them.

Like I said in the beginning of your reading that you're missing good opportunities due to your toxic thoughts, don't you dare to think that now "you've lost" them as well. It's a BIG no. You're constantly and you will constantly be given new opportunities, once you're open to experience new things and you've given yourself the permission to continue and have a fresh start. You're greater than your thoughts, you're strong. 💪❤️

How to improve -

Your past doesn't define you because your past is not today. You're important and deserve as much love and fine things in life as others do. There's nothing wrong with you, but your thoughts that currently have a huge influence on you. Your thoughts and mind are holding you back, but you need silence them and to listen to your heart and intuition as they know, so let them guide you. Trust and accept. 🤝

Every pile had quite heavy messages, I hope they didn't trigger anybody too much 😅 And tbh, it felt quite therapeutic for me to do these readings as I get new perspectives for myself too. See you in the next reading/astro observations post, until that take care y'all ❣️

#pac reading #pac tarot #tarot #daily tarot #tarot cards #tarot community #tarot reading #oracle reading #energy reading #intuitive readings #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #divination #tarotblr

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chirpsythismorning · 2 years

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My favorite combination of endgame byler proof dates back to the promotion for season two (bc of course it does)!

About a week before s2 premiered, David Harbour did an interview, and deadass the only thing that makes any sense in regards to what he could possibly be referring to here, is endgame Byler:

"We’re talking about ending Stranger Things at either season four or season five. I know there is an end to the story. It’s a very beautiful end. We’ve already been laying out the pipework. There are easter eggs in season one that you won’t get until season four. You’ll look back and say ‘we’ve been seeing this story the whole time, we just haven’t realized it’. To me, that’s wonderful.”

Now, one could try to argue that David was referring to Will’s sexuality/feelings for Mike here, and I would agree, at least partly, because David’s wording sounds an awful lot like what Noah said recently in his interview with Variety:

"I mean, it’s pretty clear this season that Will has feelings for Mike. They’ve been intentionally pulling that out over the past few seasons. Even in Season 1, they hinted at that and slowly, slowly grew that storyline. I think for Season 4, it was just me playing this character who loves his best friend but struggles with knowing if he’ll be accepted or not, and feeling like a mistake and like he doesn’t belong. Will has always felt like that."

Where it gets complicated though, is that if David was referring to solely Will sexuality/unrequited feelings in this interview, then it doesn’t really make sense for him to frame it as ‘wonderful’.

But, it is important to note that David was talking about the ending, not the beginning of the end, which is what s4 ended up being. His assumption back then, was based on his knowledge of the ending, and how long he hoped the show would go for them to close off that story.

S4 obviously wasn’t a 'beautiful', nor 'wonderful' conclusion to Will’s story arc involving his sexuality/feelings for Mike being built up since s1. So, even if that’s all David was referring to, we are still yet to see the payoff.

This is where the damning proof combo comes in...

Most of you probably know, but as promotion for s2, Spotify collaborated with Netflix for official playlists dedicated to each of the ST characters. It was said that these playlists were specialized and unique to each characters traits.

But especially when it comes to the first song on each of these playlists, almost all of them are instantly recognizable as to why we can assume they chose that song, for that specific character, to start off their playlist. And arguably, even for the most casual of viewers.

For El it’s, Papa Don’t Broach. Pretty self explanatory.

For Will, it’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Again, self explanatory.

For Mike, it's Smalltown Boy...

To those who don't know, Smalltown Boy (1984) is an unequivocal gay anthem about a young, gay man in the 80's who experiences homophobia and alienation in his small home-town, only to leave (run away) by the end, in order to be happy.

The music video leans even more blatantly into this narrative. Here it is beside this shot of Mike in 4x01 (one of the very few POV shots we got from him in s4, might I add), and it fits quite well with the Smalltown Boy agenda...

To be clear, this isn't just some song the queer community loved and so it turned into a gay anthem overtime. Because, yeah, there are definitely some songs that lyrically just feel like they could be queer (despite not intentionally being), and so the gays sort of claim it and it gains even more meaning and importance over time. However, that is not the case here. This song is undoubtedly one of the most intentionally gay songs of the 80's. And a heartbreaking SYNTH one at that!!!

If the hints for Will were intentional back then (confirmed), then it’s highly likely Smalltown Boy being the first song on Mike’s official playlist, may just be one of the many Easter eggs pointing to the fact that Mike has also been gay (and in love with Will??) this whole time.

Also worth mentioning that when Finn was recently asked about M*leven's relationship in season 5 (the ending), he had this to say;

"I don’t know, I’m really interested… I don’t know, I’m interested kind of like for the end of the show kinda in general (…) Who’s gonna stay in Hawkins, who’s gonna leave. Who’s gonna try to find a life outside. Is there even gonna be a Hawkins? I don’t know. But yeah. I’d be interested to see if Mike stays in Hawkins, or tries to find a life outside of his town. And also, you know it’s hard to tell, like obviously with Eleven and his relationship, but I hope they find, you know, happiness."

When they make-up after fighting in 4x04, Mike tells Will that Hawkins isn't the same without him. After literally listing off all of their friends, basically separating them from Will, "They're great... but-" sort of confirms to us that no matter what Hawkins has to offer, without Will, it's not the same to Mike. Which means if Will isn't going to stay in Hawkins at the end (he won't), Mike probably wont either.

TBH, Will and Mike both having feelings for each other since the beginning, and ending up together, fits a whole lot better with: ‘we’ve been seeing this story the whole time, we just haven’t realized it. And I think that’s wonderful’, than an unrequited love story does....

And the fact that all of these easter eggs, for both Mike and Will, started picking up more prominently after season 2, makes the Duffers whole "what is s2?" act right now even more funny...

#byler #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 5 #stranger things theory #stranger things meta #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 5 theory #mike wheeler #will byers #smalltown boy agenda

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 5 months

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Nokto vs. Silvio

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Nokto and Silvio, who took the stage, had a composure that the previous princes didn't have.

Nokto: "Do you honestly think I'd be a match for you in a sword fight?"

Silvio: "You can do it, right?"

Silvio: "We're in a martial arts tournament. Get your sword out already."

Nokto: "We've never had a match using swords."

Silvio: "You guys do too much as you please."

Silvio: "What was that earlier anyway? You guys were spreading weird traps."

Nokto: "Even now, there's still some sticky residue left from those traps. Move carelessly, and you'll become prey."

Silvio: "Tch, what a pain in the ass."

Nokto: "That's why I'd like to suggest settling the score with something other than swords."

Silvio: "Drinking?"

Nokto: "A drinking contest would give you too much of an advantage."

Nokto: "How about something simpler and more exciting? What do you think of this?"

Silvio: "A card game?"

Nokto: "Yup. We're both familiar with it, aren't we?"

Nokto: "Although I might have the upper hand."

Nokto: "After all, you're..."

Silvio: "Shut up. Enough nonsense."

Silvio: "Fine, I'll go along with it. It's a fitting duel for a fox like you."

Nokto: "Exactly. And technically, you have more experience."

Nokto: "After all, you were the one who taught me how to play."

Silvio: "Are you talking about when you came to study in our country?"

Nokto: "Yup. I went to the royal palace formally to pay my respects, and that's when you found me."

------------Flashback------------

Silvio: "Perfect timing. I was just looking for someone to play with. Care to join?"

Nokto: "A card game?"

Silvio: "Yeah, have you played it before?"

Nokto: "No, I haven't."

Silvio: "Then I'll teach you the rules."

Nokto: "I'm a beginner. Is that really okay?"

Nokto: "There are probably many others who would be willing to play with you besides me."

Silvio: "It's boring to play against the same opponents all the time."

Silvio: "Besides, nobody ever plays against me seriously."

Silvio: "But you're a prince. There's no reason for you to appease me."

Silvio: "You'll play seriously, right?"

Nokto: "I'll do my best."

Few moments later...

Silvio: "Hold on, I didn't expect you to be this good!"

Nokto: "Well, I didn't expect you to be this weak."

Silvio: "Shut up!"

Nokto: "Should I go easy on you?"

Silvio: "Don't you dare. It'll just make me even more pathetic."

Nokto: "Are you crying?"

Silvio: "You're seeing things, idiot!"

Silvio: "Let's play another round."

Nokto: "Sorry, but I have to go now."

Nokto: "How about inviting other friends to join you?"

Silvio: ".........."

Nokto: "Don't tell me you don't have any friends."

Silvio: "So what!?"

Nokto: "Nothing."

Silvio: ".........."

Nokto: "I guess you can only learn more about these games through experience."

Nokto: "If it's okay with you, I can be your opponent as much as you want during my stay."

Silvio: "Fine. If you insist that much, I'll play with you again."

Nokto: "I was the one offering to play."

Nokto: "Well, whatever."

---------Flashback Ends--------

Silvio: "Here."

Silvio threw his cards onto the table set up on the stage.

The excitement in the venue quickly escalated as it became clear that Silvio had the upper hand.

Nokto: "You used to be so weak, but now you've become strong."

Silvio: "Shut up. I don't recall losing to you in the past."

Nokto: "Well, but..."

Nokto smirked and revealed his cards.

Silvio was left speechless, and the venue erupted in cheers.

Nokto: "This game is all about strategy and deception."

Nokto: "You may be good at tactics, but when it comes to lies, I'm one step ahead."

Nokto: "So now it's 2 wins and 1 loss for me."

Silvio: "Ah, damn it! This game is too boring!"

Silvio: "I guess I'll stick to using a sword. It suits me better."

Nokto: "But unfortunately, our time is up."

Silvio: "You damn fox."

Nokto: "I'll play with you again sometime."

Silvio: "Acting all high and mighty. I'm the one who'll be playing with you."

Nokto: "Yeah, yeah."

The friendship formed between the two in Benitoite will continue in the future.

Ikepri Masterlist

#ikemen prince #ikepri silvio #ikepri #ikepri nokto #silvio ricci #nokto klein #ikepri jp #cybird #ikepri translations

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bg-brainrot · 2 months

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WHaBFHtLA - Astarion x GN!Reader - Chapter 1: Knifes and Nightmares

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence

WC: 1.7k words, 1/?? chapters

Summary: At 12 years old, you first dream of the Pale Elf. The encounter scares you and sets you on your path forward.

Ao3 | [Ch2] | WHaBFHtLA Masterlist

An elf’s reverie is a time of introspection, of connecting to your former selves and their lives, and ultimately learning from them for your new life. When an elf enters this deep trance, the entire world falls away, and memories both good and bad come to them as if in a dream. It’s not always a pleasant experience, but it is often considered a necessary experience for elves to reach full maturity. After 100 years of reliving your past, you are finally acknowledged as a true adult, allowed to forge your way into the world in your new life.

You knew from a young age that you had lived some interesting lives. You received snippets of them each night, and awoke from your trance trying to decipher what each bit could mean, who the people were, which lives might have belonged to you. You found it a fascinating puzzle to solve– you also had the sneaking suspicion you didn’t always like puzzles.

The oddity of a new life is that you aren’t the same person. Of course not. You’re currently being raised by two well-to-do, doting parents living in Neverwinter. You don’t need a lot of memories to know that this is by far one of the most pleasant starts to life you’ve had. In this life, where you weren’t searching for your next meal or living on the streets, you’ve found the capacity to love puzzles.

When your memories suddenly decide to hand you a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit, it throws your new life for a loop.

You’re 12 years old, quite used to your nightly reveries now. Your parents have lovingly laid you to rest, and you eagerly enter your trance, ready for another clue about your past selves.

Eyes closed, world shut out, you access tonight’s memory easily.

The first thing you notice is the scent of the ocean. Its smell is a mixture of brine and fish, not unfamiliar to you. Along with the smell, you feel the cool breeze tickling your skin, blowing your hair just within your field of vision.

You feel taller than your current self, older, and bigger. You’re not sure how old you are, but you know that you’re an adult. Despite this, you’re unable to decipher much else.

Reliving a memory is nothing like real life. You can’t control your body, no matter how much you wish you could, you can find yourself coming in and out of these memories, and you can’t force yourself out of a memory once it’s started– it’s all out of your control.

So, as much as you’d like to learn more about your past-self, they’re currently preoccupied. Walking up this winding path, a rocky outcropping with some barren trees and shrubs, they seem to have a clear destination in mind: a figure at the top of the hill.

They approach the person carelessly, as if nothing in the world could be a danger to them– you wonder if they’re more powerful than some of your other lives. You can tell someone is in tow, but clearly you trust them because you don’t turn around to look.

You reach the figure, a silver-haired elf. He’s strikingly pale, wearing impeccably designed clothing that seems out of place for where you’re finding him. His stance is cautious, ready for anything. Most surprising to you are his eyes, a rich red, and they dart between the bushes and you.

“Hurry! I’ve got one of those brain things cornered.” The voice is breathy, masculine, with an accent a bit different from your own. You can’t quite place it, as you’ve never left Neverwinter, but you think you’ve heard it in other lives’ memories. “There, in the grass. You can kill it can’t you? Like you killed the others?”

You feel your own emotions spark at his question, at once alien and familiar, and a surge of confidence radiates through you. “Easily, stand back.” The voice for this life is new to you, but it’s clearly very self-assured. You wonder what the ‘brain thing’ could be to warrant such certainty.

The memory cuts out–not a new occurrence, and your parents explained that lapses in memory could happen around moments of severe emotion as a natural protection. However, when it cuts back in, you’re overwhelmed by the amount of shock and fear coursing through you. You’re on your back, staring up at the same clear blue sky. A flash of silver glints just under your chin, and, as your former-self looks down, you see a knife pressed to your throat.

You feel your limbs struggle, but the way his legs are wrapped around you, the way he’s leveraging his body weight, you find that you’re unable to get up. Panic rises in your throat as you wonder if this might be your first death. You didn’t realize you could experience death at such a young age– usually this was reserved for your later years of reverie. I’m not ready for this, you think, as you feel both of your body’s hearts pounding in their chests.

“Shhhh,” the man, who is now pinning you to the ground, all but tuts. “Not a sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.” His head cranes up, to someone you can’t see. His face and tone shift to something angry as he growls, “And you– Keep your distance. No need for this to get messy.”

“I need them alive. Stow that blade or I’ll show you just how messy things can get.” The voice is feminine, their accent matches this man’s.

“Promises, promises,” he says with a nonchalance that irks at you. “But I have other business, I’m afraid.”

His attention turns back to you. “Now, I saw you on the ship, didn’t I?” the elf continues, his tone is taunting you, knowing he has the upperhand. His next word is a command, “Nod.”

Present-day you, the 12-year-old that just wants to live, wills yourself to nod, to acquiesce to this insane man’s demands and see another dawn. However your past-self has other inclinations.

Without so much as a word, they headbutt the man. Hard.

You feel the force of it nearly jolt you out of your trance, but you hold on, willing yourself to see if you make it out of this alive.

The man grunts as he rolls off of you. “Argh. You wretched little–”

Then your mind is wracked with pain, with flashes of memory that you can’t place. A previous life? You’re not sure. But after the sting of your heads colliding, this strain is too much for your mind to bear. Your vision teeters, hanging on by a single thread, all that’s left are that man’s intense red eyes.

You emerge from your trance with a shaky breath. You reach for your throat, as if to make sure that it’s still in one piece, only to find it coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

What was that, you think. One thing is for sure: it was quite possibly one of the most vivid memories you think you’ve had yet. The smells, the sensations, the emotions – all of them still linger.

You don’t like it.

Tears begin spilling down your face, an unwelcome reaction to the fear that seems to rest just under your skin, uncomfortable and chilling. Your hands feel like someone else’s, and looking at them shake involuntarily is just about enough to bring you to a breaking point. “Who– who was that?” you get out, to no one in particular.

Verbalizing it helps to soothe your turbulent emotions, look at this logically. Okay, I must have felt quite strongly in that lifetime. You nod to yourself, wiping away tears with a few trembling fingers. More importantly, what did I learn?

You think back to the memories, willing your mind to push past the fear. You met this man. You don’t know who he is, or what he wanted, but he seemed to be armed and dangerous. You had a companion. You don’t know who they were either, but they seemed to be ready to kill for you.

The exercise calms you considerably, and only leaves you with more mysteries than solutions to your puzzle. What ship was he referring to? What was the ‘brain thing’? Whose memories had flashed through your head?

You shake your head, no, no, none of those likely matter. If there’s one thing your memories have taught you is that specific events are in the past– there’s no use trying to piece it together like a history book. Likely nothing you did was worthy of a history book anyway. What you need to know would be infinitely more useful: who were you?

You’d been confident, unshaken despite the fear pulsing in your body. You’d faced that terrifying man as if he were just another inconvenience, one that you were thoroughly fed up with.

You don’t know much of your former selves but you know that you want to be that. You don’t want to cry when faced with certain death. You want to headbutt it.

Years pass, and you work hard at training in the arcane arts, finding comfort in books and wizardry. You wonder if that will be enough to keep you safe in this life, safe from people like that silver-haired madman. Every time your will falters, you remember that memory and study harder. He becomes a figure in your mind of the dangers of the world, of something to fuel your fury when it begins to burn low.

He’s nothing more to you than that silver-haired man for more than six years, as that particular lifetime of memories seems to lay dormant. Your parents have explained this to you before: you can’t control which life’s memories come to the forefront. To many, it seems arbitrary. To you, it feels like your mind is defending you. As if it realized you aren’t ready for that particular part of your past. Or perhaps it just knows that your hatred for this fair-haired elf may take over your current life.

The next time you’re visited by a memory of this pale elf, you find that the emotions he elicits are far from hatred.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion masterlist #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #when he's all but forgotten how to love again #whabfhtla #reincarnation trope #elf!tav #astarion x you

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sabo-has-my-heart · 10 months

Note

Hello :) just want to say I love your fictions especially your law ones :) Might I ask you to write a fluff about law x crush!reader, where the reader is very bubbly and kind hearted and literally forced herself on laws ship because it was her only option to explore the world. Like she annoys the hell out of law with her bubblyness and boldness but somewhen he realized he has a big fat crush on reader :) I know its very specific but I always saw law with a bubbly flower girl, I think the contrast is cute and somehow law always end up with bold and bubbly characters like luffy and corazon. I think he attracts those kind of people :)

Warnings: none, just fluff

Word Count: 1110

Eye twitching, Law watched you skip down the streets. They were in town to let the log pose reset and gather supplies and you were being your usual annoyingly upbeat self. You’d joined the crew relatively recently, but you were a good enough fighter that he’d allowed you to join, despite how peppy and bubbly you were. Still, your constantly upbeat attitude and and bubbly personality seemed to get on his every damned last nerve! He didn’t mind how kind you were. He was a doctor, doctors helped people, even if they weren’t always pleasant. Seeing you be so kind and giving was something he appreciated in a person. What he didn’t like was how you’d actually joined his crew, how bold you were, how peppy you were. Sure, he kept you on the ship and kept you as part of the crew because of your skills, but when you’d originally joined, he’d wanted to use his room to cut you into pieces. You’d started by stowing away onto his ship, only revealing yourself once they were far enough out to sea that they couldn’t sail back and would have to let you stay until the next island. After while, you’d quickly and easily befriended each and every crewmate… to an annoying degree. Once they’d reached the next island, you’d given the saddest, biggest puppy dog eyes as you pleaded with him to stay, when he’d said no, you’d started giving the crew the most tearful goodbyes, telling them how much you’d miss them and how you’d never forget them and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! He wasn’t sure who’d given him the next biggest puppy dog eyes after you, Bepo, Shachi, or Penguin. After much begging on the crew’s part, he’d finally agreed to let you stay, giving you crew duties, rules, and other things you’d need to know. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that you’d wanted to see the world, to experience new things, to do something other than stay on your peaceful little island. Watching you twirl around in the middle of the street, he couldn’t help but sigh, how were you always so happy? Always so cheery and positive? You hadn’t had the traumatic childhood that some people had, sure, but he’d only ever met 1 other person as bright and sunny as you, and that was Luffy. Though to be honest, he didn’t understand why Luffy was so cheery either, but for entirely different reasons.

Looking back at Law, you couldn’t help but give him a bright smile as you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, the wind blowing past you. You’d enjoyed being a part of the crew, seeing the world, traveling from place to place. It was a refreshing change of pace and it let you see and experience new things you’d never had the chance to before. Moreover, the crew was kind, sweet, and enjoyable to be around, quickly befriending them. It was somewhat amazing, to be honest, that someone as serious and stoic as Law had a crew as cheery and lively as the Heart Pirates. Though it benefited you, fitting right in with the others and easily getting along with them. While befriending them so you could stay hadn’t been your intention, it had helped a great deal when you’d been trying to convince him to let you join, the crew begging him as well. He seemed to have a soft spot for 3 crewmates in particular, you could only guess that they had a long history together. Dancing down the streets, you couldn’t help but laugh and smile, stopping by the occasional store to buy supplies or look at various clothes or goodies for yourself. You had a few days before the log pose reset, so you’d spend today getting supplies and the next couple of days exploring the island, enjoying the greenery, and doing some personal shopping. Sadly, you knew Law wouldn’t accompany you on such excursions, finding them to be rather frivolous. It was too bad, really, you wished he’d join you, wished you could spend more time with him, despite the personality differences, you really liked him. Yes, you knew you had a crush on him, but you also knew that he didn’t feel the same way about you, so you kept your feelings to yourself.

The next day surprised you, Law following you as you headed for the outskirts of town. You’d heard of a wonderful field of flowers and wanted to check them out, telling your captain where you’d be in case he needed to find you. He’d sighed, stood up, grabbed his coat, and followed you out. It made no sense! Why had he followed you? Why had he come with you? Not that you were complaining, you enjoyed being around him, but it confused you greatly. Picking a few flowers, you quickly wove 2 flower crowns, placing one on your own head before placing the other over Law’s signature hat, surprising the young man. Had you really just placed a flower crown on him? Why? Why make a flower crown for him? Did he look like the kind of guy who cared about flowers? Why was he happy that you’d given him a flower crown? Why did he suddenly feel so flustered? Why had he accompanied you in the first place?!

These thoughts bothered him for days, even as they set sail once more, leaving him baffled as to his own feelings for you. You annoyed the ever loving hell out of him! Ever the doctor, Law started looking for a medical reason for his ‘symptoms’, anything to explain away his feelings in an attempt to avoid the reality of what was happening. Still, even his medical textbooks were starting to point towards the obvious, towards the one thing he didn’t want to admit. No disease explained all of his symptoms and there was no way he could have everything that would explain the symptoms. No! No he didn’t have feelings for you! Except he knew he couldn’t deny it anymore. He cared for you. You made his heart race, his stomach flip, his cheeks turn bright red, his breath would catch in his throat, his brain would get fuzzy when you smiled at him and laughed. He… he cared for you, he had a crush on you. Now, he could only hope that these feeling of longing would go away.

They didn’t. They never went away. His feelings for you only got deeper as he fell hard and harder for you with each passing day until he was hopelessly in love.

#one piece #one piece law #op law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #law x reader

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talks-with-the-void · 2 months

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Werewolf Diarys part 1: When spirituality becomes toxic.

[I am very much taking suggestions for a better title instead of "werewolf Diarys btw if someone has any... also mentioning some people who showed interest in my writing, I hope you don't mind! :3 @solacesins @wolfislost @a-dragons-journal ]

Spirituality is and always was a huge part of the alterhuman community. When I, back in 2016, came in contact with this whole phenomenon for the first time, it was everywhere - kinfolk talking about past lifes, others who practised witchcraft or other magick, soulshards, godshards, parallel lifes, all of it. And while, in my perception of things, psychological otherkin are nowadays a lot more present, I would say the majority of alterhumans is still heavily spiritual.

Now, don't get me wrong - I don't think of that as a bad thing. Not in general. And I have exactly zero problems with folk believing in and practicing spirituality - I may not personally share their beliefs, but I think this is one of the areas where individual truths very much exist. Actually, my own opinion on anything is not really relevant here, I want to talk about something much more broad. A structural community-issue, I would dare to say and surprisingly something I've never seen anyone talk about.

Spirituality is a powerful tool and if used in the right way, a great source of comfort and stability for someone. That is great! I absolutely support that. A problem, however, may occur if a young person without established beliefs newly discovers their alterhumanity, joins the community and sees spiritual representation everywhere, but far far less resources for psychological alterhumanity. If you are constantly confronted with people who find happiness in a spirituality, chances are high you feel drawn towards that. Again - this is not an anti-spirituality post in disguise. You will soon understand what my point here is. So, you might start to - subconsciously or knowingly - try to fit in, to find the happiness they have. It happened to me in that exact way: I knew basically nothing about myself or my alterhumanity and I never had the chance before to explore what I might or might not belief in. Then I saw everyone talking about past lifes and simple as that, more or less decided my alterhumanity was rooted in a past life too. Because I wanted to belong. This alone would not be too much of an issue - in the normal way of things, if someone - me in this case - subconsciously or knowlingly forced themselves to belief in something they actually don't, after a few months or years they'd realize that and find their own way. Being wrong about something and trying to fit in is not inherently bad! It's a completely normal thing for (human or at least humanly socialized) brains to do.

But what happens if the person in question ends up in toxic spiritual spaces? That, too, happned to me. I had the unfortunate experience of being a deeply unstable young being with untreated BPD, depression, anxiety and various other issues who so desperately wanted to fit in. I met some people who I greatly looked up to, who followed spiritual paths - and I wanted to impress them, to be like them and most importantly not being left by them. Very very unfortunately... they had a lot of black and white thinking going on. Every little doubt about their belief was taken as a personal attack, every suggestion that something might not be a result of manifestation but maybe just a coincidence was met with anger. Don't get me wrong, if someone constantly disrespects your beliefs and tells you they're wrong, it's absolutely okay to be angry about that! But this was not the case here. I was literally afraid to say that I experienced, for example, energetic cleansing differently than they did because it would have been taken as a personal attack. But still, I wanted to fit in and was so scared of loosing the small community I built with those people that I didn't realize they were the reason I felt more and more miserable.

For those people, anything and everything was something spiritual and saying something like "oh, just yesterday I thought about song XY and today I've heard it on the radio 5 times! That's so funny, it's not even in the charts at the moment!" was instantly met with "you manifested the song!". I was talked over and told my own experiences were wrong because they didn't align with their beliefs. Lucky for me, at some point a lot of internal changes (we're a median system) happened and I/we realized what was going on and quickly cut all ties with those people. We rapidly got better and accepted that we just don't hold spiritual beliefs and that's okay. But this time did leave scars.

As a side note, aside from my personal experiences, chalking everything up to spirituality can be downright dangerous. I can lead to not checking in with the doctor because the shadow people you're seeing? Oh, it's just spirits! While I'm not saying it absolutely must be something medical, it could be hallucinations, caused by whatever. The strong headaches you get? Oh well, just caused by a blocked chakra (or, maybe not?). You might be right. It might be caused by metaphysical things, i am not telling you you're wrong. But it might as well be something health related. The circles I was in really danced on the line of being like this. Or, they crossed it, I think - several people there claimed to be able to perform physical healings over the internet. For me, they never worked.

The "structural problem" I mentioned earlier is simply how present spirituality is in this community and how that, naturally, leads to young folk blindly taking on those beliefs. That's not the fault of people who talk about their spiritual experiences and I'm not saying you should stop talking about it. Not at all! That would not be the solution.

So, what do I want to happen instead? We need to do two things: one, encourage critical thinking. And I don't mean the old-school "grilling" and having folk "prove" their identities. I mean we have to encourage folk, especially young folk, to not blindly follow beliefs they see everywhere around them but rather to look at themselves from different angles and find their own truth. If that truth ends up matching with the more common ones, great! Absolutely nothing wrong with that. But Alterhumanity and identity in general is about discovering yourself and who you are and that simply doesn't work if you try to follow someone else's individual truth. In the worst case, it might lead people into groups like the one I described above and I for one, don't want that to happen. The other thing is, the psychological side of this community needs to be more present. We need more voices speaking about psychological experiences, we need to represent ourselves more. It is so, so important for new folk in our community to be exposed to all sides of it, not just to a few.

Spirituality in itself is not bad or dangerous, but some people make it dangerous. I know that 99% of spiritual alterhumans are totally chill and cool and all of you have my deepest respect, but like it is with all things in life, toxic people also exist. And because of how prominent spirituality is in this community, i think it is our respnsibility as a community to try and protect newbies from those rare but existing toxic spaces.

I know I might step on some paws with this post and I apologize for that. But I honestly have never seen anyone talk about this issue, although I am sure I'm not the only one who experienced something like this. I'm totally open to discussion and questions, just please stay civil and respectful and grant me the benefit of the doubt - if you read this post anf thought "wow, that's such a mean thing to say", please assume it was just bad wording. English is not my native language after all.

Thank you for reading!

#I am aiming more for a discussion-inducing writing style btw not really a professional essay style #alterhuman #alterhumanity #nonhuman #otherkin #nonhumanity #psychological otherkin #spiritual otherkin #spiritual alterhuman

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nothorses · 1 year

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How do you differentiate, between atheist, agnostic, and anti-thiest? I've been reading your past posts about atheism, and I found it interesting how you defined atheism as an active belief in no higher power (might be misspeaking, please correct me if I am). I would call myself an atheist, but my atheism is not an "active" one - the label I find closest to what I am would be an agnostic atheist, where I can't say if there's any higher powers or not, but I live my life as if there aren't/don't ascribe or follow any particular religious guidelines. Would you consider this different from your atheism or idea of atheism? Why do you consider atheism an active belief versus a passive one (given that we're born without any beliefs in higher powers and pick that up later as part of how we're raised or choose to believe)? Sorry this ask got so long but I am very curious about your thoughts, I haven't read or had a discussion on atheism in ages.

There are a couple of asks in this ask, I'm gonna try to get into them individually if that's cool!

1. "How do you differentiate, between atheist, agnostic, and anti-thiest?"

Short answer: I don't! (With the exception of "anti-theist", which is a much more defined ideological position, i.e., being actively opposed to theism.)

Long answer: I think there is a difference between commonly-understood definitions of identities and related labels, and personal use of said labels. "Queer" is a great example: it's a super useful catch-all in academic and broad-discussion contexts, but it has a lot of (often conflicting) definitions. Lots of the people you're referring to in those contexts don't identify with that word at all, even if they fit the definition you have in mind to a T. Sometimes, you'll also be using the word to describe some, but not all of the people who could be described by it- and sometimes, people you wouldn't typically include in the word are included in it anyway just based on the way you're using it.

I think "atheism" works a similar way. There are a few commonly-understood definitions, but even those are very context-dependent; what I mean when I say "atheist" in a conversation about my specific experiences with atheism and how it has shaped my life/values is very different from what an evangelical Christian means when they say "atheist". And both of those are very different from what someone in a completely different, non-Christian-dominant country means when they say "atheist".

Lots of people interpret or use the word differently, and that's fine! Lots of people do or don't identify in ways that contradict use of the word in academic or broader discussions, and that's also fine! It's okay if terms are flexible and vague; like "queer", that can actually make them much more useful than they'd be otherwise.

Which brings us to:

2. Why do you consider atheism an active belief versus a passive one?

I think the "active" vs. "passive" differentiation is actually kind of counter to what I'm getting at when I talk about this.

I think people tend to conceptualize atheism as a "lack of belief" because "atheism" is usually understood to mean "lack of belief in a higher power"; which is (broadly, not always) true. But the conclusion they reach from this point is "so atheism does not, and cannot produce any unique or original ideas".

That is what I'm arguing against.

The piece I see missing from "cultural Christianity" discourse is, imo, that people see atheism as a kind of "blank slate" state. The idea is that atheism is a Lack of something; it's a Void. It's Nothing. Therefore, other things (Christianity) will naturally fill that void. Unless you actively fill it with a different (religion-originated) belief system, you will just naturally "default" to whatever is most dominant in your surrounding culture (Christianity).

But that's not really true! Everything you believe or don't believe about the world influences the way you think about it, how you form your values, the rest of your beliefs... etc. Religions often have a set of values and an internal logic because when you believe one thing, there are lots of other things that necessarily follow from, and support, that one belief. It's just not that simple!

I talk about it more here, but atheism has influenced my own beliefs and values a lot.

I grew up atheist, raised by atheists, who were also raised by atheists. I grew up in a culture where a lot of things were taken for granted that I did not have any reason to believe, and because I had no reason to believe them, I questioned them. I interrogated my own ideas about the world constantly, from a very young age. And from that, I developed an internal set of beliefs and an understanding of the world around me.

I came up with my own answers to questions like, "what is the meaning of life?" and, "what is our purpose?" and, "how should we treat each other?" and, "why should we treat each other that way?".

All of those answers were based in atheism, even if I wasn't really thinking of it that way at the time. All of those answers stemmed from the core understanding that there was nothing, and nobody, to give life meaning, purpose, or rules for me.

It might be technically a "lack of belief" (in a higher power) (depending on context and who you ask), but like... it's not a void. It's not nothingness, it's not emptiness, it's not a lack of purpose, value, morality, ethics, kindness, and unique, original thoughts about the world.

This one idea creates other ideas, because that's how these things work. It's unavoidable. The idea that all of these things must come from religion- and simply do not exist without it- is frankly dehumanizing. Not to mention very culturally Christian, ironically.

#cultural christianity #atheism

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fearlessinger · 2 years

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this may not be news to many of you bc I have not been able to shut up about it since I first finished the books but for the fast food enthusiasts who feel like a 50k essay might be too big of a commitment, in tonight’s edition of READ TOA, GUYS let me try to condense this into a shortest & simpler (& simplified! Nuance's definitely gonna be lost here) form…

Basically, to characterize Apollo’s arc in TOA as a redemption is… incorrect.

Ok well no, I’ll admit, I did that for effect (gotcha tho, huh ;P), let me take it back immediately, it’s not incorrect bc 1) he himself does characterize it that way, and 2) Apollo did do some terrible, terrible stuff in the past and through the course of the story he takes responsibility, atones to the best of his ability, and vows to not repeat those mistakes anymore, all of which fits the definition of redemption to a tee. But the thing is… this isn’t his main character arc! It barely qualifies as an arc at all bc despite what Apollo tells us, Apollo starts out from the very beginning of THO already already feeling responsible, already willing to atone – with his own life, if necessary – already committed to not repeat past mistakes. All this character work… he’d already done it well before the rrverse begun. His actual character arc in TOA isn’t about realizing that he must do this, but about realizing that he CAN do it. That he HAS A RIGHT to do it, in fact. Because his life experience under his father’s rule had convinced him that correcting his mistakes was impossible, and that showing care toward people & forming connections with them would only end up in hurt, not just for Apollo but, even more crucially, for those people too. And that WAS the reality Apollo lived in before TOA, and still is the reality Apollo returns to live in after TOA. And that’s crucial to understand, because that’s the context we must keep in mind to interpret Apollo’s pre TOA choices & actions. He acts like he doesn’t care because caring about others makes them into easy targets of his enemies and family members, two categories that coincide more often than not. He’s an asshole to the demigods even as he actually helps them precisely to obfuscate the fact that he’s helping them. He presents himself as an unreliable, capricious figure to them because he quite literally can’t offer dependability to them. Because another thing he always knew, even though he lies about it like he does about everything else, was to give value to promises. SO he could not – he would not let himself promise help that he was not free to give in the first place.

Except in TOA, suddenly, he is, because he's not a god, he’s not bound to the rules that tie the gods’ hands, that keep them tied to their Lord whose flighty benevolence they all depend on, anymore.

Because he has nothing left to give, finally he finds himself actually free to give it. Because he has nothing left to lose, finally he finds himself free to grab for stuff. To dare want and dream and hope and LOVE like he could never afford to before, except maybe… maybe one or both of those two times he'd been punished with mortality already, way back in the ancient days.

"Remember what it means to be human," Jason tells him, and it has so much more meaning than Jason can realize.

Apollo's actual arc in TOA is not one of redemption, even though he keeps telling us it is. It is one of self reclamation, both symbolically and literally, from the theft of agency & purpose & identity that he was victim of, that is a perfect representation of what abuse effectively does to a person, what abuse effectively had done to him. It is one of self actualization. It is one of learning to believe in his own heart, his own choices. To be proud of them, in fact. To see them validated in the way they inspire people's love and faith even when they are backed by no power at all. To discover that he was never alone after all.

And despite what he keeps telling us, Apollo does know this.

He recognizes Meg is abused because he sees himself in her, because he sees that her relationship with Nero mirrors his relationship with his own father. He is terrified that once Meg is reunited with Nero she’ll fall back into line like nothing has changed, let her stepfather make of her his obedient victim and trained killer once again, because he knows that HE might, when he’ll be faced with the same choice. Because why wouldn’t he? His problem was never an unwillingness to do better, it was that he effectively didn’t have a choice.

And yes, among his extremely limited options he didn’t always pick well. He did highly questionable things, and not all of them out of strict necessity. But the truth is there really wasn’t a GOOD option for him to pick at all. His was a lose/lose situation.

And now, at the end of the series, now that he’s back, it is once again, except – except for the part where Apollo has learned that he isn’t alone.

As crazy as it may sound, considering he started out the series proclaiming he expected everybody to do his dirty work for him, Apollo’s character arc was all about learning that he can lean on other people for support. That he has friends he can count on. That’s what the closing words of the pentalogy mean. They are not only a promise, but a request to the readers to believe in the best version of him, the most authentic version of him, the person we got to know, to discover, all through our journey together as he gradually opened up and let us see it. Gods are powered by belief, and “call on me” means “have faith that I will come”. It means “lend me your strength, so I can lend you mine in return”.

#toa meta #toa #rrverse #trials of apollo #the mini apollogism essay #warning: full blown apollogism in here #that's a joke my analysis is as always perfectly impartial and objective

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oc-poll-tournament · 3 months

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OC Poll Tournament Round 1 Poll 4

Propaganda below the cut:

Valerio Álvarez (he/him) @lieutenant-amuel: “Off-screen”: Valerio is a fandom OC. He lives somewhere in the 19th century in a fictional kingdom inspired by several Latin American countries. In my story where he’s one of the main characters he’s 35-42 years old.

About the character: Valerio is a history school teacher. The reason he’s decided to become a teacher is his wish to inspire other people, guide them, and help them fulfill their full potential. He’s kind, outgoing, warm, and very good at understanding other people’s emotions which makes him empathetic, open-minded, and compassionate. He’s extremely people-oriented and always makes sure to get to know everyone in every company he joins.

And why history? It was his favourite subject when he was a student and later on it became the main target of his study since history made him think and analyze a lot about the current regime of his kingdom.

As a young man, Valerio travelled a lot around the world, and one of the purposes of his adventures was not only seek out new experiences but also to discover and learn something new. He was curious and adventurous to the point of being a thrill-seeker (cliff jumping was one of his favourite activities). Despite being possibly the craziest among his friends Valerio had always been a shoulder they could rely on and a wise guide who could give them advice and comfort them when needed.

Besides he’s very responsible, has great strategical skills as he’s an amazing chess player and is also very good at planning. All of these qualities he’s kept to his current age.

At first glance he might seem way too perfect, right? Unless you learn about his past. It’s veiled in mystery, and to put it literally he wears gloves in order to cover his burn scars he’s got after surviving a fire.

Nobody in Valerio’s new surrounding knows that he was born in the military family. He’s a son of the reputable Royal Guard and always strived to do everything to make him proud even if he didn’t fit into the military environment and never thought being a guard was his true destiny.

He had a very strong bond with his mother and after her death he could finally realize how power-hungry and violent his father actually was.

He wanted to leave the guard but couldn’t due to his father’s high position and after graduating from the military school, he stayed there as a teacher, assisting his mentor who had a very big (and positive) impact on him when he was a student.

Eventually Valerio left the guard. But certainly not the way he wanted. He was driven away with shame. After becoming a fire victim he committed a crime the weight of guilt of which cannot release him from its grip even nowadays.

Valerio doesn’t want anyone to find out any details of his past, and whenever someone gets close enough to expose it, his dark side comes out. He tends to run away from his problems instead of dealing with them, he’s indecisive, aggressive, and prideful as he never listens to other people’s advice and thinks he knows better what do to. The fact he’s good at reading people helps him to inspire them but it also helps him to play with their feelings to direct them against themselves - he’s manipulative.

Anyway, to not make him sound like a redeemable monster, Valerio is also scared of being a burden which makes him keep his feelings to himself to the point of exhaustion because he doesn’t want to bother anyone with his problems and also because he’s deeply attached to people.

He had a close relationship with his late mother and late wife yet he never showed to anyone how much he grieved after their death. When he lost them, those periods of his life were the most directionless to him because he didn’t know what to do and who he was without them.

Will Valerio ever accept his past and stop running from it? Well, this is what his journey is about so he have yet to find out!

The main ideas I want to convey through his character:

A character with the dark past who tries to stay positive and kind to others.

A character stuck in his past but from a bit different perspective: he’s not captured by the thoughts about his past - he ignores his past and runs away from his fears which doesn’t allow him to accept it, move forward, and be himself.

A character who strives to help others yet is damaged himself.

I have a lot to say about him but I’ll stop here so I won’t reveal everything in one post. He’s my favourite among my OCs (and I have many), and as I developed him, he’s got to be very important to me on a personal level too so I’ll be very happy if anyone finds him interesting 🖤

Viper (she/her) @maple-writes: Loyal and devoted Viper is a member of a small band of mercenaries led by Winter, her definitely not girlfriend (neither have admitted it to the other) called the Aristata. Within the Aristata she is in charge of their horses, training, upkeep, and anything else that comes up, and she loves them all. Unable to speak around those she doesn’t know and trust, she can only manage a whisper with those she is able to talk to. She comes off as a stoic, strong silent type to those around her or in front of anyone watching her while she is actually very anxious around those she doesn’t know and prefers to have a friend she can lean on in social situations. Viper is observant, and smarter than she thinks she is but will swallow what she knows and any feelings of unease in favour of what Winter wants done and will protect her no matter what.

#oc poll tournament #round 1 #oc: Valerio Álvarez #oc: Viper

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1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt · 2 years

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Kirk and Spock: Canon Musings and Fandom Curiosities Of an LGBT+ Trek Fan

Here are some thoughts surrounding the fandom controversy of anti k/s shippers who get uppity with those of us who enjoy it; specifically those members of our fandom who have now taken to bemoaning how "woke" Trek has become despite it always being "woke", or the recent fresh flush of anti-LGBT rage stirred up in select fans at our (checks latest reason for outbursts) SNW enthusiasm.

As a member of LGBT+, I can't help but bring my own experiences in this fandom into this, too, because I feel it is relevant. So let's have a conversation.

FYI, This is not in alignment or support of those k/s forcefeeders who try to browbeat all fans into agreeing that k/s is canon, which I'm not cool with. Everyone should be able to enjoy the fandom however they see fit - don't conflate extremism with fandom. If someone enjoys this fandom thinking Spock/Chapel or asexual Spock or platonic besties Kirk and Spock then leave them alone. -_- They have every right to enjoy this fandom in their own way as much as you do. To quote Jim: "Don't push, Charlie."

What I mean is, k/s fans who simply enjoy entertaining the idea as canon for ourselves and like-minded fans, while some other Trek fans get rabid stinging mad and offended about it for some reason.

I've been told that even the idea that Jim Kirk might be bi is "disgusting", "perverted", a "twisted, sick fantasy" to name a few examples. . . No joke. Actual Twitter comments from people who think simply liking both men and women is "perverted". Y'all TIL that just the idea of being bi is a "twisted, sick fantasy". And as a bisexual person in a fandom that gave us a concept like IDIC, I wasn't feeling very welcome or embraced after reading some of that anti-bi vitriol. My existence is not "perverted" or "twisted", nor is the love I have shared with my married partner for the past 12 years. But I digress. I'm not about to be chased away from something I love because of the usual cowardly stream of anti-LGBT+ pearl clutching and dismissiveness from a loud minority that has become so commonplace in our society.

"They're trying to make everything gay now it's so stupid and unrealistic I'm so tired of hearing about gay things" *Looks pointedly at the decades of STRAIGHT ONLY representation being celebrated: straight-centric holidays, the fact that gay marriage was illegal for decades and yet in order to be allowed to visit a dying partner in the ICU, they required you to legally be family; this meant that while straight couples always got to say their proper goodbyes to the loves of their lives on their hospital deathbeds, LGBT+ couples were denied this right on the basis of not being legally allowed to get married throughout the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s and early 00s, plus constant cultural straight-washing forced on everybody from day 1 in the form of creepy fake child kindergarten wedding invites and baby rompers that say gross things like "Daddy's Little Lady Killer"*

It all seems rather aggressive for so mild a suggestion pertaining to fictional characters that are living in the future where this would all be a lot more likely and casual regarding gender and sexuality.

Anyway, moving on from that disappointing dumpster fire of interactions that I and others were on the receiving end of as a member of LGBT+ in the Trek fandom . . . the fandom is typically very open minded and welcoming, but there are always a few turd nuggets in any gold heap.

With all that unpacked, it made me curious: just what are they protecting so fiercely? What are they canonically terrified of losing? Swaggering Jim who is doomed to hop from broken relationship to broken relationship? Are they saving Jim Kirk from the Bisexual boogeyman? What exactly are they vehemently defending, if they are so against that take?

I guess what I'm curious about is this: What is their ideal pairing or TOS ship that seems logical to them that we are threatening by loving our ship, if any at all? (Hey I know some of you are just here for the spaceship porn and don't give a shit about any of this, fill your boots. Come on down and ignore us fools obsessed with make believe characters, we love you all.)

If y'all don't think the affection was certainly sufficient enough for their relationship to be considered romantic (as Gene Roddenberry put it) . . . Well then, who or what else? What makes more logical sense, given the canon we have been given? I don't ask this antagonistically, but with genuine curiosity about theories. I'm not here to shoot anyone down, opinions are welcome. I've just always wondered about the other takes.

The canon is so weird in that unlike most other stories where they try to beat you over the head with hetero happily ever after, Star Trek canon keeps Kirk and Spock's long term romantic details -- especially Spock's -- quite ambiguous. We never see them get married, or settle down with anyone specific, officially on screen or in the canon.

Not that characters have to have a relationship to feel fulfilled, but this is all based on what we know of these characters in particular; we already know that Spock and Jim have expressed a desire and need for love, companionship and connection.

We know Jim is brimming with affection; he is a VERY openly affectionate person who often vulnerably ruminates on love and feelings of loneliness.

He constantly expresses a want and need for a partner to understand him and love him as he is, and he talks a great deal about how being alone is a fear or discomfort of his. Even though he romances often, Jim usually ends up dumped or removing himself from the relationship because ultimately, nobody seems to respect or understand his commitment to his ship and Starfleet on a personal level -- they don’t seem to truly understand him -- that is, besides Spock. But Jim is right of course; he shouldn't have to give up who he is and what he loves in order to be loved or understood. True love is what happens when a person sees you just as you are and still wants to buy what you’re selling, warts and all. And the only person who seems to share this love and enthusiasm for his ship and his job with that same keen level of understanding is Spock.

This comes up in even some of the earliest episodes of TOS.

"This vessel. I give, she takes. She won't permit me my life. I've got to live hers." - Kirk to Spock

Conversely, Spock has convinced himself that he doesn't need love or anyone else to survive, and how he grapples with that throughout TOS. By the end of the motion picture, he finally realizes how wrong that is and says as much to Jim by confessing his feelings and how he needs them -- specifically, how he needs Jim.

So if Kirk and Spock aren't the closest to one another and the most likely spouses, I’m curious: who else? What makes more sense then, canonically, knowing what we know about Kirk and Spock in TOS/The Movie canon from start to finish?

We never expressly hear of Spock having an official significant other named throughout canon. A marriage is alluded to in TNG, but we do not know to who -- or anything about their gender/identity. The writer of Spock's autobiography describes him as "widowed" from Kirk. This is just about the closest reference that we get (outside the vague mention in TNG) resembling Spock having some semblance of an intimate love relationship long term.

I genuinely don’t feel there is another character in the TOS canon that reoccurs throughout it that you could argue the canon explicitly intended or set up for Spock to end game be with aside from T'Pring, who shot him down for Stonn.

Usually when people say a character is straight, it is because the canon has already arranged an obvious hetero end game pairing for them with blatant evidence.

For Spock, that never happens -- not an end game situation with another character that is anything remotely close to being as intimate, personal, or affectionate as what he develops with Jim.

The closest we ever get is Chapel, Zarabeth or Leila -- all of which we know for certain were never canonically described or written as Spock's long term partner - we'd know about it by now if that were the case. (Note 1: I didn’t count Saavik here as their relationship wasn’t primarily developed or sold as truly romantic or an end game romance. I feel if that were the case, they would have blasted that from the rooftops -- whereas the mentor-apprentice relationship they shared is prominent and obvious. She doesn’t come back outside the canon she appeared in, they aren’t mentioned as settling down or having a relationship later in-canon. . . Basically she got down with Spock’s mindless meat thrall teen body while his katra was in another castle in ST III so that the body wouldn’t die. If that constitutes an intimate romantic relationship to you, please get help.)

(Note 2: I am writing this from the perspective that Spock is not ace based on TOS evidence such as Amok Time, The Enterprise Incident, All Our Yesterdays, and This Side of Paradise as examples which highlight Spock's capacity for sexual desire and offers a mild suggestion of interest in sex -- however rarely it appears. However if y'all interpret Spock as ace though, my take is one take and it ain’t gospel-- power to you fam, rock that ace Vulcan.)

In Kirk's case, Jim very obviously loves women. He has a number of genuine relationships with them; he most notably has a failed serious relationship with Carol Marcus. That would be the closest thing canon did to assigning an official long term partner for Jim, but the films and comics make it very clear that Carol and Jim were unhappy together -- so much so that Carol left Jim, and demanded that Jim stay away from his only child and not be a part of his life. She denied him the ability to participate as a father selfishly; not for David’s benefit, but for her own personal benefit. She wanted to have nothing to do with Kirk, and she kept their child from knowing his father or following in his footsteps. Truth be told, that wasn’t Carol’s decision or right to choose for David, ultimately. She can raise him, but it wasn’t her right to deny him access to his father or the option of exploring that side of himself. And in Kirk’s case, nor is that the kind of lot that the end game love of your life offers you in regards to a future with you and your child.

Furthermore, what Carol had always feared is exactly what happened; David followed after Jim into the thick of the action, and he died as a product of it. Did Carol ever want to be in a relationship with Jim again, after their son was killed due to him trying to get Spock back? I don't know about you, but I wouldn't if it were my kid that died. There is also no mention in the canon of Jim and Carol ever rekindling, and any relationship Jim has with other people outside of Spock in canon are often fleeting; they never seem last long term. Besides Carol, he never truly "settles down" with anyone in canon for what could be considered a true “end game” scenario.

So my question is, in canon, if Kirk and Spock aren't the most feasible answer for each other in terms of closeness, intimacy, mutual respect, love and admiration, who is?

It has been said time and again that they know and understand each other unlike anybody else in the canon -- that they are two halves of the same whole. Roddenberry himself said he intended them to complete each other: "You are closer to the captain than anyone else in the universe. You know his thoughts."/"Theirs had been the touching of two minds which the old poets of Spock's home planet had proclaimed as superior even to the wild physical love which affected Vulcans every seventh year during pon farr."

The pendant scene written for ST 2009. "I have been and always shall be yours."

The one thing I struggle to understand with anti-K/S fans is, do they prefer the idea that the guys just lived their whole lives for duty, contradicting the message of TMP about how essential love and connection is, and just kind of stayed lonely and isolated for the rest of their lives? Did Spock just have one off pon farr cycles with strangers and never knew what it felt like to actually be loved wholeheartedly by somebody?

Was Jim just destined to be a sad, lonely boss who's relationships always ended in the other person choosing their career over him, of putting him aside or dumping him, never knowing what it is like to be genuinely appreciated and cherished as opposed to discarded? He has had his heart and trust broken so many times. Is that really the life we are so sold to for James T. Kirk?

I can completely understand if folks would rather maintain the perspective that they are friends -- I think folks should enjoy stories in whatever way makes them happiest. I'm not here to say "IT'S CANON" *forcefeed* or that anyone has to buy what I'm selling, I'm just curious.

It blows my mind that the idea of Kirk and Spock getting a shot at real, genuine love -- that good shit you only get when you are intensely close with someone who understands you and you marry your best friend -- that that idea is less appealing to someone out there than "well they were just married to their duties forever, never made any other real long lasting, intimate bonds with other people or found true love, and they just kind of worked until they died. Kirk had an anthology of failed relationships that never stuck and Spock was just lonely till he died. The end." Like really? That gives you your jush? If it does then I love that for you, but for me that is just so . . . Cold.

Just . . . what the fuck? Being forever alone or a failure at love sounds so much more miserable than being secret gay?

Anyway, that's just one little bear's opinion, do with it what you will. But I'm on team "they had a secret but awesome love relationship for the remainder of their lives" over team "forever alone and married to work for the rest of their lives".

I'm on team "my boys deserve happiness".

If you want to ship fucking Horta x Balok fics or if you’re simply here for the nacelle porn a la Monty Scott and don’t give two damns about any of this, I’m here for you: you support something I love, and you aren’t hurting anybody while doing it.

Thanks for coming to yet another long winded, homoerotic Star Trek TedXTalk.

Remember that regardless of why you are in this fandom, so long as you are not hurting somebody else, I’m here for you.

We don’t have to love something for the same reasons or the same way in order to love it just as equally. So even if we don’t see eye to eye about every little fan theory or sentiment, thanks for being here and supporting Star Trek, however you lean; so long as you are kind and open minded, I got you fam. LLAP, and IDIC.🖖 💚

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azertyrobaz · 10 months

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Satellites (1/7)

What if Grogu hadn't returned to Din in The Book of Boba Fett? What if he hadn't been given a choice? -- Modern AU setting: Grogu is now twelve, and he has to rely on his memories as a young child to track down the person who changed his life. The only person he knows who will be able to protect him from the bad man. The bad man who precipitated his separation from the only family he's ever known. He embarks on a road trip to piece together his past, and reconnect with the people who might help him find his family again.

Read below or on ao3.

************

It had been a very hot day, and the metal of the pickup bed was still warm on the young child’s back despite the late hour. The sky was almost pitch black, just the way he liked it, and the birds had finally gone quiet. He expected the arrival of mosquitoes next but they seemed to have given the both of them a reprieve. As if they’d agreed he and the man deserved that one moment of peace before sleep.

“What about this one?” he asked in his small voice, choosing his words carefully, arm raised towards another constellation.

“Ursa Major,” the man’s deep voice rumbled next to him, and the boy settled more snuggly against the old blanket he used as a pillow. The nights were never excessively cold, but he knew he’d wake up the next morning with another blanket draped over him. One he never remembered putting over himself.

“The Great Bear,” he remembered proudly, and he felt the man nod. “And how can you find the Little Bear?”

The boy already knew the answer – the man had explained it to him several times in the past – but he just wanted to hear the story again. Hear about Merak and Dubhe and Polaris, the star that pointed north and meant he’d never get lost in the night. It always made him feel safe. That and the sound of the man’s voice, as he was slowly lulled to sleep.

************

The boy opened his eyes and looked outside. The window was dirty and it was bright inside the bus, harsh lights switched on here and there by passengers reading or talking, but he was certain he had spotted Polaris in the night sky. Its presence was reassuring, it meant they were still driving West. Dawn was several hours away, then there would be another bus, and another stressful journey where he would have to hope no one paid too much attention to him – the small boy who barely looked ten travelling alone.

But he thought he’d mastered the art of disappearing in a crowd. He’d been on this journey for three days already and he hadn’t been bothered. He had money to pay for his tickets and his food, he’d sit in the back and remain quiet. Some looks lingered, though. Old women, mostly. The boy wondered if they were worried or merely curious, perhaps mothers and grandmothers. On a couple of occasions, he’d resorted to one of his tricks, and pressed a phone to his ear, having one-sided conversations and telling his non-existent caller he was on his way and would be home soon. He liked pretending he was phoning his dad, and the smile was genuine on his face. It had worked until now, and the questioning looks would stop, despite the phone being broken and displaying a blank screen. But the experience left him sad and empty afterwards.

The boy sighed and looked at his scuffed shoes. He’d been forced to walk a lot to reach the random bus depots and stations, and the cheap material was coming off at the seams. He would have to be careful: he knew he would attract even more looks if he appeared too unkempt. He had washed a couple of times in empty bathrooms and had brought his toothbrush and comb which he used anytime he could, but he longed for an actual shower and clean clothes – he was running out, as he’d only been able to pack a few things not to raise suspicions. With too big a backpack, people would have immediately recognized him for what he was.

A runner. A fugitive. A deserter.

But none of those words really fit. The place he’d escaped from was no jail. It wasn’t that bad, really. The teachers were nice and no one had ever really been mean to him there.

But he definitely was running away. If not from a place, then from someone. He’d always meant to leave one day, and the bad man’s reappearance had simply precipitated his departure. The boy wished he’d had more time to prepare his journey – he had managed to find two addresses, that wasn’t much. What if they weren’t there? What if they had moved? He was relying on a six-year old’s memories, his memories, and it was now six years later. Thankfully, their names had been striking enough that he’d remembered them and they hadn’t been too hard to find, the car mechanic especially.

Sleep, Grogu. The stars will still be there tomorrow night, the man said in his head. And so the boy stopped looking at the sky through the window, the old diesel engine slowly putting him to sleep, his shoulders angled so that no one would disturb him or try to talk to him, and he pretended he could feel the warm metal of the pickup against his back.

************

The twelve-year old boy looked at the creased paper in his hand. His cramped handwriting was atrocious, but he was sure this was the place he’d scribbled down. The address he’d found online during one of his late-night jaunts to the computer room. He’d only recalled that the woman’s name was Peli, and that she was a mechanic somewhere out West, maybe in Nevada. That hadn’t been much to work with and yet he’d been lucky. He hadn’t found any pictures, though. Of either the mechanic or the car repair shop.

If this could be called such a place.

It looked more like an old shed of some kind, with rusted panels and peeling paint. There was no sign or doorbell or anything, but the iron rolling shutter was open, so he decided to walk inside. He hadn’t travelled all those miles for nothing, and the afternoon desert sun was beating hard on his back.

“Hello?” he said, wishing his voice was stronger and deeper.

The place was a mess, but it was much cooler inside, and he exhaled immediately as he put his backpack down at his feet. It wasn’t heavy exactly, but he’d been carrying it for so long that he was in desperate need of a break.

Shelves upon shelves stood in front of him, displaying various engine parts – he thought so, at least. Nothing looked particularly new or in working order. He had a sudden flash of memory as he spotted colorful cables hanging from the ceiling in a corner, and a game of pretend. As a four-year old, they’d looked like believable snakes, and he’d had a grand time inventing stories of jungle exploration while their car was being fixed.

“Bit young to own a car, what do you want, kid?”

He hadn’t noticed the woman’s arrival and he mentally berated himself – he needed to be more careful of his surroundings, he’d been taught that. The bad man was still after him, he was sure of it. And yet, he couldn’t suppress a smile. He’d found her! That curly hair was hard to forget, and as small as he still was, he was pleased to see that he almost reached her height now.

“Hi,” he said, almost tripping over his backpack as he approached the counter. He grabbed it by a loose strap and searched her face. Would she recognize him?

“Do you remember me?” he asked, when the silence stretched for too long and he grew uneasy.

“Bright Eyes?” she exclaimed, and he nodded tentatively, not recognizing the name exactly. “Wait, your dad told me your actual name, but I thought it sounded terrible, what was it? Ragu? Grogu?”

“It’s Gregory, actually,” he mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek at her casual assumption regarding his relationship with the man.

“You don’t look like a Gregory,” she decided, walking around the counter to observe him, and the boy schooled his features to remain impassive. He didn’t like people coming too close.

“It’s just a name,” he shrugged – he’d never liked Gregory either.

“So what brings you all the way here? And where’s Mando?” Peli inquired, looking behind him, as if the man in question would suddenly appear. If only things were so simple.

“I’m looking for him,” he explained, “I thought you might know where he is.”

“What do you mean, you’re looking for him? He was looking for you, and then they wouldn’t let him see you and he came back all mopey and that’s the last time I saw him,” she answered in rapid fire speech as the boy’s eyes grew bigger and bigger.

He’d been looking for him? He came to see him? Who was “they”?

“When?” he exhaled sharply, heart beating fast.

“Oh, I don’t know, years ago,” the mechanic replied with a huff, her nonchalance deeply painful to the boy, who’d been bracing for bad news, but not of that kind. Why hadn’t he tried to visit again? And why had no one told him? He swallowed hard and felt angry tears prickling the corner of his eyes. There was another address written on that piece of paper, he couldn’t lose hope. At least it meant he had still been alive then.

His dejection was probably hard to miss, and it seemed to have mollified the usually unflappable woman, who now looked sympathetic.

“I have some cold drinks in the back, looks like you could use a soda,” she said, laying a hand on his tensed shoulder. “Then maybe you can tell old Peli what is going on, because I sure as hell am completely lost.”

************

It had taken two cans of Coke and half a bag of chips for the boy to cover most of the last six years. He hadn’t told her everything, and especially didn’t mention the bad man who was after him again, but she’d proven to be a good listener, only asking questions when he went too off topic.

“Funny you ended up in a school for gifted kids, first time I met you, you could barely talk,” she remarked with a cackle, though there was no malice in her tone, and the boy nodded – that was true enough. He’d been four, then. Speech hadn’t come easily to him. And even as a six-year-old he was more comfortable when it was just him and the man. He knew he would never judge him. And wouldn’t make fun of him when the words rushed out of his mouth in a barely understandable jumble of syllables. It had taken him such a long time to pronounce his disliked name correctly, that everybody assumed it was Grogu instead of Gregory.

“It wasn’t a bad school,” he added, realizing with a start that he was using the past tense to talk about it, as if he’d already made up his mind that he wouldn’t return there, no matter what happened. “And I guess it was the best place for me.”

That was what the man had said. What he’d wanted – find his rightful place. And little Grogu had wanted one thing in life then – make him happy. And not only him, but everyone else. And everyone seemed to think that he was so smart and so gifted and so amazing, that he’d started believing them, too. For a long time, it had been enough. And the praise he received at the school from Luke and the other teachers had been wonderful and exactly what he needed to thrive. It almost made up for the fact that contrary to most of the other kids there, he had no one to go home to during the holidays. The institute was his home all year long.

But to now learn that the man had actually tried to reach out…

“How long would you say it was after I saw you for the last time that my - that Mando visited again?” he asked, trying to sit still and resisting the urge to ask where the bathroom was just yet. Those two cans of Coke had probably been a bad idea, but actual answers were more pressing right now.

“Let me think,” Peli sighed, crossing her arms. The old leather couch she was sitting on made funny noises when she moved, and the boy had elected a rickety chair instead for that reason.

“He needed a new car, and I’d promised I’d keep an eye out in case I came across an old classic truck – ”

“Something happened to the Crest?” he interrupted with a gasp – that car had been everything to the man.

“Completely totaled it,” she replied without care, and it felt like a tangible loss to the boy – he’d loved that car too, it had been their home. “But then it really was a piece of junk.”

There again, the boy tried not to react too strongly, and simply waited for her to continue.

“So anyway, I didn’t, but I did lay my hands on some very cool Chevy 350 V8 engine and enough parts to build a decent 1969 Corvette Stingray. Yellow. Convertible. Barely any rust. Instant classic.”

The boy nodded to help her along. She was now the one getting lost in the details as he didn’t care much about powertrain or transmission or any of those things.

“…and you know he had the gall to tell me he still missed that old truck of his? I built most of it myself – he helped a little – and he was telling me he was planning on visiting you. He sounded very excited!”

“When was that, do you remember?”

“I think it was probably a year, or a year and a half after I saw you that last time,” Peli said, eyes looking upward as she searched for the memory in her mind.

So many years ago. Anything could have happened since then.

“And he never – ”

“Well, he did return once, not too long after like I said, all grumpy and sad. Engine needed a tune up, too.”

“He didn’t say where he was going?”

They’d moved around a lot in the two years they spent together. There was no one place they really called home except for the Crest. They both preferred sleeping in the truck than in dusty motels, and he’d never felt unsafe, except at the very end, but that hadn’t been the man’s fault.

“Sorry, Bright Eyes. Haven’t heard from him in four years.”

He tried to convince himself that it didn’t mean anything. He knew how easy it was for the man to just disappear if he wanted to. He had a newish car, so why would he need to visit a mechanic anyway? Maybe he’d found another one. Maybe he could handle the repairs himself. Maybe –

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, you know he was a black ops mercenary, right? Probably still works for some private company or agency and he has to lay low.”

This was one of the things he had only been able to piece together after a while. Once enough years had passed at the institute and he’d become more aware of the adult world. The man had been careful to shield him from most of the ugliness and violence of his line of work, and to the boy that had just been his job. How he earned money. He didn’t know any better then and it still didn’t shock him now. They would move every time there was a new contract to fulfill and had travelled across the whole continent, spending a lot of time in South America especially.

“Why are you trying to find him? You just said they were treating you well at your school, so why run away now?”

At no point had he mentioned the fact that he had run away, but then what else would the woman assume? The boy looked for a way to cut the conversation short – he could now read suspicion in her eyes and he knew overstaying his welcome would be ill advised.

“They must be looking for you by now – ”

“I’ll just go, don’t worry about it, and thanks for the Coke,” he said quickly, standing up and rushing to grab his backpack in the corner.

“Wait, kid, I didn’t mean…” Peli attempted, also standing up, her arms extended in a placating manner. “Look, I wasn’t trying to scare you. Why don’t you wait until the temperature is a bit cooler outside at least? I can pack you a sandwich and you can take a quick pit stop, whaddya say?”

She’d probably guessed he desperately needed to pee. And the bus which would take him to the second address on his list didn’t leave until late that night. The boy wondered what to do. He knew he probably couldn’t trust her completely, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use the bathroom for a few minutes. And more free food sounded good, he had to be careful with his remaining money.

“Okay,” he said tentatively, and she showed him to a door at the back of the shop, urging him to take his time.

After taking care of his bladder, the boy brushed his teeth and attempted to comb his hair – it was getting dirty, and the light brown waves wouldn’t behave, even with the help of some water. With a sigh, he changed into his last clean t-shirt and washed his face with the hand soap. His reflection in the cracked mirror was tired and worried.

“Wait until you’re on the bus,” he told himself. He couldn’t start thinking about all he had learned – and hadn’t learned – from Peli just yet. He had to keep moving forward, keep hoping. But if he was so special, why couldn’t he track him down? He groaned and remembered a time when the word was not an insult. There had only been one person he actually wanted to impress then, and it wasn’t professor Skywalker.

“Grogu,” he whispered, and stared into his eyes. Were they really that bright like Peli said? He wanted to go back to being Grogu. Gregory could stay at the institute with all the other special children for all he cared.

After one last nod to his reflection to boost his confidence, he reached for some paper towels and dried his face. He’d walk back to the bus station, buy his ticket, and hopefully reach the second address next afternoon. He had a plan.

“I think I’ll just – ”

“Sit,” Peli said kindly when he exited the bathroom, backpack on, intent to brave the heat and not look back. She’d had time to make him a sandwich and he could see another one already packed in a Ziploc bag next to it and two more cans of soda for his journey.

Grogu hesitated again, but his stomach rumbled at the sight. So he sat down carefully, his backpack still on to make a hasty exit after he was done, and attacked the food.

“I was just thinking about the first time I met you,” she started, sitting in front of him at the table. “Do you remember?”

The boy certainly did, but he let her talk so that he could eat quickly. It was a nice memory, despite everything that had happened. How he’d woken up alone in the truck and gotten scared because the man wasn’t there, but the mechanic with the crazy hair had given him food and some toys and it had made everything better. He agreed to have some cookies after he was done with his sandwich, reminiscing with her about their second visit now, when they’d met that very pregnant woman who was looking for safe passage to Canada, no questions asked.

“She sends me regular postcards, she has six kids now, can you imagine?” Peli informed him, and Grogu smiled.

It was only when the phone in the mechanic’s pocket beeped that the boy understood she had been stalling, finding ways to keep him here, and his smile fell.

“You called someone,” he realized. Peli didn’t say anything and Grogu stood up quickly, ready to bolt – that was answer enough.

“Someone who can help you,” she tried to explain.

“Who?” the boy asked, but he wasn’t really listening, and put the extra sandwich and soda cans in his backpack, looking for the quickest path towards the exit.

“The sheriff, Boba Fett, he can – ”

“Boba Fett!”

The name immediately sent a shiver down Grogu’s spine. It scared him almost as much as the bad man’s, which he refused to say out loud. He’d been there when he got kidnapped, and he’d always seen him as partly responsible from being separated from – from –

“I can see you miss him, and I promise you Fett won’t tell anyone at your school you ran away, he’s not like that.”

But that was the last thing on Grogu’s mind – he didn’t even care if they came after him now and wondered if they even would.

“He knows your dad,” she added. “They worked together.”

Grogu paused at that revelation, but he thought it could be one more trap.

“I don’t believe you,” he told Peli. “He attacked us.”

“That was before.”

“Do you think he knows where Mando – where my father is?” he asked bravely, and he must have sounded as desperate as he felt because the mechanic’s eyes turned soft and apologetic.

“I don’t know,” she exhaled, shoulders lowering. “I’m sor – ”

The sound of a car door closing at the front prevented her from apologizing and Grogu started looking towards the window. There was a yard through there, with piles of rusted car parts, and hopefully another exit.

“Maybe I should have fixed that hole in the fence at the back,” Peli said with a barely there smile, as they heard a man’s voice calling for her at the entrance. “But then, it’s only big enough for a rabbit.”

She looked at him one last time, the guilt and regret hard to miss, and the boy nodded in understanding – she’d been trying to help, he knew. And had been a gracious host.

“Bye Peli,” he whispered.

“See you around, Bright Eyes.”

And so the boy formerly known as Grogu started to run.

#the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #baby yoda #peli motto #fanfic #star wars #mandalorian #modern au #angst with a happy ending #found family #my fics

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