#we all share the burden of being the protector

[girl4music]

“If losing her is the price for saving us all, I’ll pay it. It’s just a part of me I didn’t think I’d need anymore.”

“What’s become of her? It’s just not-- it’s not human. It’s-- that’s the price, isn’t it? Losing your humanity.”

#buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #sarah michelle gellar #wynonna earp #melanie scrofano #the chosen one #the slayer #the heir #the price #everything comes back to xena even when xena never faced the responsibility of being the chosen one #everything comes back to the exceptional writing of the price #because it’s all the same thing #being the hero #being the villain #we lose our heads in the violence and vengeance #and we forget that we are only human #we all share the burden of being the protector #even if we were never forced to be

[nolongerapileofashprobably]

The sheer development of botw/totk zelink…

Zelda didn’t originally like Link. She outright avoided him at all costs and wasn’t particularly nice to him. And despite her own efforts, Link’s own determination and devotion to his role finally wore her down to the point where she realized how wrong she had judged him.

Link was a prodigy, he had the sword that would seal the darkness already (had since he was a mere preteen) and was known for besting adults in duels as a literal child. She was born with powers she couldn’t unlock despite all the effort she put in. She thought he was simply handed his fortunes in life with no consequences, while she struggled daily to uphold her father’s expectations for her and neglect her own hobbies.

But when Link steadfastly protected her in a place she had specifically gone to in order to escape him, she sees the truth behind it all. Link is determined. He never backs down from a fight. He’s also reckless and she understands this as she chastises him and worries over his well-being. He’s knowledgeable about horses and has good advice, always willing to share it when someone (aka Zelda) needs to hear it. She learns bit by bit about Link until she outright questions why he doesn’t talk much. And he genuinely hesitates but decides that he can share this with her. She’s the only one he ever has. Because she asked.

And he tells her. The sword on his back brings a great responsibility and massive burden to bare. He feels the need to be strong and to be the stoic perfect knight to take on the role everyone expects him to play.

They become much closer after this and there’s multiple times we see Link actually neglect his role as her protector in order to just be there for Zelda as her friend. Once in the spring memory where he turns after Zelda berated her inability to awaken her power and the second when they’re literally running away from murder bots and he doesn’t force her to continue when she slips but rather kneels, listens, and comforts her.

And to find out that Zelda’s love for Link is the reason she awakened her powers and that it’s canonically proven through Kass’ song? Wow. And that doesn’t even BEGIN their story and how it ends in totk.

In botw, the Japanese original logs are written by Link himself and it’s revealed that one of his motivators in saving Zelda was to see her smile once again. Just. Remember that.

Of course the game end and we do see Link and Zelda planning on traveling to investigate Vah Ruta. And we find out in ToTK that the two are inseparable, so much so that without Zelda by his side no one recognizes Link beyond the characters that genuinely know him through the story.

They’ve traveled across Hyrule and helped numerous people, no matter what it was. They live together in Hateno, where they helped to build a school and even teach the kids there. They founded expedition and research teams, reformed a guard, and even found the time to ‘vacation’ at Lurelin where they would go up to Lover’s Pond in the evening.

Zelda and Link create a home out of Hyrule. It’s no longer a desolate, sparingly populated land. It’s being reformed. It’s being cared for. It’s their home. They lost theirs 100years prior but they’ve steadily worked to make it a home once again. They were healing. Together.

So losing Zelda again, being unable to reach her, and also losing his sword. . . It’s a lot. But the thing he knows he must do— Find Princess Zelda. Despite knowing exactly where Zelda is after you finish the Tears of the Dragon Quest, Link does not complete it. Because he hasn’t found his Zelda. The one that rambles on about everything and gets excited about history and new discoveries. The one that tried to make him eat a frog (albeit she was on to something). She isn’t home.

Meanwhile Zelda. . . Zelda goes on about Link, enough for Sonia to know all about him and his tendency to worry over Zelda’s well-being. And then we have memory eight that has Zelda practically gushing about him to her pseudo-parents and promptly being teased for it. Then, as Zelda finally understands why she is in the past, she ensures Link has everything he could need in order to win. Because to her, Link and Hyrule surviving is a must. She sacrifices herself to ensure that.

And yet. . . Link is determined to bring her back. Hyrule won’t be the home they’ve worked so hard to make it so without her. He can’t quit until they find a way to revert her back. So when Rauru and Sonia channel their power through Link, it takes a moment for him to understand by when he does… WHOOH boy does the determination SHINE in his eyes.

And he gets her back. He reaches her. Protects her just as she did for him in the form of restoring the Master Sword. And she immediately rambles.

We don’t get to see Link’s reaction to any of this. But then we end with “Link, I’m home” and a SMILE. Because that’s all Link wants. For Zelda to be safe and smiling.

Ultimately, they just want to be home. And home is with the other.

#just some late night thought about zelink #zelink #botw zelink #loz botw #botw #link botw #botw link #the legend of zelda #zelda botw #zelink botw #the legend of zelda breath of the wild #totk zelink #loz totk spoilers #loz totk #loz tears of the kingdom #loz tears of the kingdom spoilers

[alshamswelnahr]

Sanemi's downfall is a blend of his selfless and self-harming nature

the distance sanemi creates between himself and genya isn't strictly about protecting genya, and it isn't by far the only way either, he even contemplates a different way in the light novels but settles on violence nonetheless because in his own eyes he's the one with the dirty hands, he is the jerk -despite his evident gentle and caring nature- the rift between the shinazugawa siblings cannot be simply amended by talking it over because it stems from his self hatred, his own belief that he is unworthy of love, care and closeness, which he rationalizes by the fact that even the strongest of the slayers are still at risk of dying which means in genya's case, who can't use a breathing style and is extremely kind, the chances of that happening are even higher.

His fake cruelty towards his brother unknowingly affirmed genya's insecurity (his weakness), meanwhile reinforcing the horrible image he garnered, it's a self-imposed punishment, doubling down on his pain by not allowing himself to enjoy the remnant of the family he assigned himself protector and provider of and failed.

A role which was also imposed on him; living an impoverished life defined by being the eldest brother of many small hungry scared children with no proper father figure, being the child of a man who inflicted verbal and physical violence on them, who was never dependable. Being the child of a hardworking, protective mother who deserved a pillar that she could lean on at least partially, all this creating a child who wished to be the opposite of his own father and a solace to his family, a child who was never allowed to be one.

To top it all, the fateful night happens and he manages to save no one, he fails them, they all die on his watch after the promise he made them. All, except for genya who becomes the symbol of his failure and dreams, he becomes the last part of his true old self and purpose, he is everything, so if genya perishes then his life is meaningless, so for genya's sake he fights, he braves years of pain and loss because if his little brother lives happily then everything he endured becomes bearable, justifiable even.

All of this weight that sanemi assigns to genya's survival, while understandable, is suffocating. He creates this ideal version of the life he desires for him disregarding his brother's wishes, refusing to adjust the plan or reshape it, he single-handedly carries the blame, all the pain and the burden, ignoring the possibility of genya's capability and desire to share it, meanwhile insisting on breaking his brother's heart to keep him as far away, hurting the both of them in a horrible fashion but in the only fashion he knows and insists suits him.

Sanemi's ways are contrasted by his foil tanjiro who chooses openness, softness and, with nezuko constant encouragement, leaning on others despite his own ups and downs and throughout all the hardships.

To summarize, sanemi punishes himself for his self-perceived fault by isolation and carrying it all on his shoulders thinking that by doing so he's sparing his gentle precious sibling, but instead he punishes him as well, thus he is punished by a narrative which constantly advocates for vulnerability and dependency by taking away genya right from his hands as a last proof that no matter what you do, controlling fate is futile so it is better to accept our mortality and be the kindest versions of ourselves while we can and while it's impossible to keep our loved ones out of danger we can still love them.

So, despite himself sanemi lives and genya and masachika's will persist, after the war when there's no longer a need to slay demons, to use violence or sacrifice himself, sanemi is asked to create his own purpose and happiness freed of the duty he took on since he was young and he is given all the opportunities in the world to live for himself like all his loved ones wanted for him.

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #genya shinazugawa #shinazugawa brothers #text #kny #kny meta #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #shinazugawa genya

[streets-in-paradise]

Our Fight - Hector x (Fem)Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Requested by Anon

" Heyyy, I read some of your Troy 2004 fics and I'm sooo in love with how you write them. Your writing is so good. I thought maybe you could do a Hector one because my man is underrated, I don't have a specific idea in mind but particularly I'm someone who likes a little angst, those where maybe Hector gets back from battle hurt or his wife is hurt somehow, perhaps by Paris in someway, maybe a protective Hector in the scene... it can be with Andromache or a Fem reader too, I just thought of this idea. I said it but again I love your writing so much, spent nights finishing it all hahaha, have a super good day :D "

Awww, thank you so much again 💕💕

I'm so sorry this took me so long to post, some stuff irl is affecting my mood and it's becoming harder to keep up with a writing schedule. Hope you will still see it and it will be of your liking. Protective Hector is something i really need rn, so I went for that route, with Paris hurting his brother's wife emotionally during an argument. I made it a x reader because i feel it was more fitting for the idea i had in mind given it's influenced on how i'm feeling.

Warnings: Angst with comfort, feelings of hopelessness.

Summary: An altercate with Paris brings to the surface all your fears and insecurities for the future and after standing up for you, Hector does his best to calm you in a private sharing of your burdens.

Tags: @g-m-kaye

As a daughter of the same land, the actions of your brother in law filled you with indignation. As a member of the family, you were still trying to understand. The constant comparisons Paris attempted to make between your marriage and his were offensive, even if the only point of genuine closeness was the fact that both were based in love. 

For that foreign wife he sold the future of your country, and you felt that you would never be able to forgive him, at least as a trojan sheltered by the same nation. His reckless offer to win back the people’s trust by fixing the problem he had caused meant very little to you. Despite his good intentions, the goodness of his heart would never be enough to stop Agamemnon. Your mercy was reserved for Helen, who you couldn’t blame for wanting to escape at the first chance presented to her given the horrors she must have endured as the sister in law of the cruel mycenaean king. She had proven to her protectors she understood the risks, but the sudden finding of hope in her sad life encouraged her to take a rushed choice. 

After living a romantic fantasy in Sparta, reality was smacking Paris in the face as you wished you could. 

“ Do you even dimension the consequences of your actions, or have you delegated all perceptions of guilt on Helen?” You were calling him out, as soon as you heard of the pointless duel proposition. “ Giving a spectacle that looks like accountability will not solve anything, not even to show the trojan soldiers you are willing to risk your life the same way they do for you. There is an empire on the rise behind the angered husband, and we are the most persistent obstacle in its way. All we have left is deciding if we, as a nation, want to die fighting or live as slaves.” 

“ I’m doing the best I can! “ The naive young man defended himself. "But if what you seek is to make me regret my choice, I must warn that is not going to happen. “ 

You fulminated him with your glance, then looked at Hector as if you seeked he would calm down the fire inside of you before things could get worse. 

“ So what? Do you expect me to stand up and clap you? My husband could be slaughtered because of your intempestive reaction to being denied something for the very first time in your life!”

Paris took that offense very seriously and stopped measuring his phrasing. 

“ Maybe Hector should have married a princess of Hatti, so a friendly empire would be on our side. If you think love is so expendable, give up on yours.” 

For a harmless little man, Paris was capable of wrecking you with his words during harsh arguments. If the duel would take place in a council, instead of a battlefield, he would effortlessly destroy Menelaus. 

Hector knew his brother had gone too far, and he stopped him for you before the provocations would destroy your nerves. 

“ I have given up enough for you, Paris, and I’m still waiting to be compensated for it. “ He warned him. “ Don’t mistake my will of service with absolute disinterest for my own life. I earned my right to sporadic selfishness as a prince and warrior, while you have been selfish from birth. Ask yourself if you would have cared for Helen's unlucky marriage if she wouldn't have mesmerized you in the first place. Would you have offered shelter to a suffering greek girl, if she wouldn’t be the famously proclaimed beauty of the century? "

The youngest prince remained silent, acknowledging his defeat, but his brother didn’t care about that anymore. He could tell you were affected by the poisonous strike, regardless of his avenging protectiveness. 

In the sacred shelter of your thalamus you released your emotions, a moment of private comfort after facing so much pain in the short span of the greek’s arrival. 

“ I’m proud of your speech, you spoke fairly. Sometimes you are the only one who dares to challenge Paris when he deserves it, despite how father protects him.” He attempted to cheer you, holding you in his arms with loveful softness. “ He needs to hear the truth, I believe both need it. “

“ Sadly, that’s our fight. How can we save a nation unaware of its own demise?” You wondered out loud, sharing a frustration that was mutual. “ The illusion of choice is what has been presented to us. If we fight this war, chances are we will lose and get erased from the face of earth by the force of an empire that hates us too strongly to allow a mark of our passing to remain in history. If we give up, we will survive in an obscure existence as servants of this power. Our children will die in wars being fought far away from us, for reasons that aren’t even of our concern… Perhaps fighting men that look closer to them than the master, other asians attempting to resist the expansion. Tales won’t mourn their passing, eclipsed by the songs of the greek heroes guiding them to doom. They will be lost in the herds of submitted armies that Agamemnon keeps as reserve, hopeless men dying for his greed. Maybe even you would find your end in one of those never ending cycles and your tomb will be placed far away from Troy, where I will not be able to cry for you.” 

The dark presumptions you were announcing like an omen, although frightening due to your flawless logic, inspired on him the strength that he felt failing when Achilles killed Tecton. If then he doubted the course to take, he got reminded there were only two grim possibilities to pick and he knew which one he despised over anything. 

“ Could this be the last war we will be fighting for ourselves? The end of trojan history? It will be,for sure, if we don’t try it.” 

He seemed more determined than before, as if your opinion would have help him accommodate the contradicting thoughts in his mind.

“ Do you now wish you would have married the Hatti princess?” 

Hector answered wordlessly, by giving you a passionate kiss that neither of you stopped tasting until the need for air became unbearable. 

“ I will dedicate all my efforts into making sure you will get to rule Troy as my Queen.” He concluded, whispering near your lips. “ … To my last breath, you will see Paris is not the only stubborn man of the family.” 

You caressed his hair as you delivered your reply.

“ I don’t need a throne, all I ever wanted is to be your wife.” You reassured him, taking care that he won’t be putting too much pressure on himself. “ … but how I would love to kick that emperor away from our land and see all the slaves rise …  ‘If Troy could resist him, so can we’, they will say, and I bet you will hear Achilles has started the rebellion with the discontented soldiers. “

He stared at you in wonder of your clever guesses, wishing he could find the way of making you introduce those to his father and see if something would stick with him. 

“ That is, without doubt, an excellent theory. It’s precisely why Agamemnon can’t give up, unless we make him.” 

You showed him a prideful smile that was followed by more kisses. 

“ Our fight doesn’t look so hopeless after all. “ You commented later, regarding a brief change in your own mood. “ There is a lot at risk, but we are not the lost case Agamemnon wants us to feel. He is more doomed if he loses, and he commands a bunch of demoralized men with nothing of their own to fight for.” 

“ This is why I don't make my final choices before our late night talks.” Hector replied. squeezing the embrace a little tighter. “ My mind is more clear when I’m with you, even at the darkest hours of my life.” 

#troy 2004 #troy #hector of troy #eric bana #hector of troy x reader #eric bana x reader #hector x reader

[yallemagne]

I want to write a Lucy-Jonathan parallels post but have no gothlit followers, hope someone makes one hint hint

jipoawgrji ARE YOU COMMISSIONING ME TO MAKE A POST??

Also, never be scared to make a post that's sort of out of your usual wheelhouse. But I'm guessing you're simply baiting me but by god, I love talking about my girlies, so I'm taking the bait.

So, Lucy and Jonathan :))). This is fun because I don't really see people comparing them by themselves, always throwing Mina in and/or excluding Jonathan for being male.

Spoilers for like the entire beginning of the book.

Let's go over differences first, right?

So, Jonathan is poor and an orphan with a father figure who gave everything to him in death. Lucy is upper class and has her mother who (if Lucy ever changed her mind) effectively wrote Lucy out of her will. Jonathan is sent away for work alone. Lucy is on vacation with her mother and best friend. Jonathan and Mina have been together since before the start of the book. Lucy and Arthur seem to, at most, only been going steady before Arthur proposes during the events of the book. Jonathan is completely alone in a castle bereft of human life yet still lives, but Lucy is surrounded by life and still dies. There are probably more, but I would be here all day.

And then the similarities.

They had such bright futures ahead of them. Jonathan finally had a career that would allow him to marry Mina, and Lucy had found a man who could not only provide for her but who she loved and who loved her back with all his heart. But they were both in the wrong places at the wrong time. Factors outside of their control led to their victimization, and they were powerless to take action to prevent their abuse or call attention to it for fear of repercussions.

They are both victimized because they went somewhere that was meant to be welcoming (for Jonathan, the Weird Sisters' room and for Lucy, the churchyard). They are both assaulted in their sleep and an outside force is there to interfere. Jonathan could write about the women, but not what happened with the Count afterwards (whether nothing actually happened or he had forgotten/blocked it out, we can't be certain). Lucy could speak about her "strange dream" but only in the context of it being a dream, and only to Mina. Both of them can only truly confide in Mina, and even then, they keep pertinent information to themselves so as to not burden her and so they can continue living in denial, because facing the abuse head-on is terrifying, especially since their reputations could be destroyed if anyone ever even suspected. But when Jonathan's trauma is validated by Van Helsing, he gets better. Meanwhile, Van Helsing suspects the cause of Lucy's trauma but chooses to keep quiet, and she dies.

Jonathan's only protector for two months was his abuser. He had to comply with his wishes or else be thrown to the wolves. And even then, when the Count was done with him, he decided to throw him to the wolves anyway, and it was only by Jonathan's tenacity that he wasn't killed and turned. Jonathan leaves the castle having left a permanent scar on the Count's forehead. Then, his protectors are the nuns and then Mina herself. Lucy's protector was Mina until she was called away to save Jonathan. Then Lucy's protectors are Dr. Seward and Dr. Van Helsing. One is completely ignorant of vampires but willing to call for help, and one knows of them but is unwilling to share life-saving information (yes, I am still mad). Lucy leaves this world having written a diary entry confirming the Professor's suspicions.

They both do what they can for themselves and for others, but they are both placed at a disadvantage. They both love and are loved by Mina. They both have a trio vying for their attention, but while Lucy's suitors respect her choice, and she happily chooses to marry Arthur, the Weird Sisters see Jonathan as nothing but a meal, and they pick who gets to have him first. There's also the fuckign wolves. The Count uses wolves to torment them both, killing the grieving mother and Lucy's mother right in front of them, breaking them down further.

These babies got me fucked up. They're both conditioned to be submissive, Jonathan being poor and forced to depend on the goodwill of richer people like his boss and his client, and Lucy being of a higher class but being a woman and having no property of her own, forced to depend on men and even her friend who is a career woman. And, this is personal headcanon, but I headcanon them both to be the youngest in the cast, Lucy at 19 and Jonathan at 21 (EDIT: lol, Lucy being 19 is literally just book canon).

I could say so much about them. Honestly, next time, say something specific to target, because there's just so much you could compare between the two.

LIKE JONATHAN COMPARES HIMSELF TO HAMLET AND LUCY COMPARES HERSELF TO OPHELIA. THEY LITERALLY?? THEY HAVE THE SAME FAVOURITE PLAY??!!

#update #people ask me things #dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #lucy westenra #also if *you* write your own post I'd like to see

[softer-ua]

✨Kami and Baku friendship appreciation post✨

I demand we start giving their friendship the attention it deserves! I fully believe Katsuki wouldn’t have gotten as far in his development as swiftly as he did without Denkis influence

Denki is such a good person for Katsuki to have in his life because Denki is not overly impressed by Katsuki’s skills, as impressive as they are his foul attitude left a much greater impression on Denki

And Denki isn’t hesitant to point it out like ever, no matter how amazing his performance Denkis first concern is his behavior.

During the hero licensing exam Denki note only takes notice of Katsukis unspoken desire to be a protector and team player but explains and defends this fact to an outsider and the audience.

During the A vs B class Katsuki steps in to protect Jiro and Denki is focused on how Katsuki went about the save while everyone else is just happily surprised Katsuki bothered at all

Kiri often over values Katsukis skills and strength to the point that while he calls Katsuki out it doesn’t really change how he acts towards Katsuki and he’s more inclined to try to interpret what Katsuki meant and move one

Deku does this too to an extent, more so it’s built off a life time of knowing each other so he just auto translates Kacchan and his behavior is very normalized to him

Deku also in the early days of UA/Middle School had a more pessimistic view that this is just who Kacchan is and he can’t change but his over all potential for heroism and to be a societal asset out weighs it all

That said how Kacchan acts has always influenced Dekus attitude and behavior towards him, outside a very bad day in middle school Deku really only ever gives Kacchan one chance at a time to accept being placated and if he pushes it Deku shoves back and if he’s good then their good

Denki however doesn’t care to interpret Katsuki’s actions if he thinks the behavior out weighs Katsukis intent

Katsuki often shows he cares in confusingly agressive ways, and while it’s super cute and wonderfully sweet that he has people who are willing and able to read between the lines & understand him and more gently encourage better from him it’s also beneficial for him that Denki won’t

Denki absolutely knows what Kacchan wants to mean and the care he’s trying to show but Denki doesn’t indulge him, if he’s being an ass than that’s what Denki focuses on

Because of that Katsuki trusts him, real recognizes real, he knew he could get Denki to make the class laugh and that Denki would understand his motive

Unlike Deku or Kiri or anyone else who might also get it Denki will focus on Katsukis rude actions and that in a way protects his rough reputation, Denki is safe to “ask” for help because he cares more about how Katsuki crudely demands it than he does the altruistic motives

They also have a shared love of being annoying little shits to each other, each poking at the other’s boundaries and provoking each other, an odd little dance that proves to the other that they’re equals in the others eyes.

Not equal in greatness but they equally regarded the other as failing losers.

A truly novel experience for Katsuki

One that keeps him seeking Denki out as a safe person to exist near, Denki will ensure Katsuki is included in social activities without the burden of outward vulnerability

While Denki at first probably enjoys Katsukis company mostly because it’s a reliable source of dopamine, there’s always a guaranteed reaction that keeps things interesting and fun, but later truly values how much Katsuki cars about others even if he pretends not to

In regards to social capital Denki is about even with Katsuki

Denki for all his power and general skills/smarts(he is going to the top school in the country) is not the sharpest tool in the shed by most peoples standards but he has a powerful quirk and is going to an elite school and that gives him a high social standing amongst the wider populace

And unlike Katsuki he has a fun sociable quality that draws people to him and keeps them there

Denki knows what many neurodivergent kids know, there’s a much greater value in one’s interpersonal/soft skills than any hard skill

Interpersonal skills help you get things like having more lenient expectations(deadlines,or grades) because bosses/teachers like you, help you gain friends that laugh with your mistakes(late or lost or forgotten time & things) rather than getting mad

Neurodivergent kids learn quick how valuable having those skills are not only in ourselves but we learn to value it in others even more, I have a vastly greater opinion of people who are empathetic, forgiving, communicative, and kind than I do of those who are well skilled.

A mechanic who might take longer but is personable and has a shop that feels safe will have my business for life as well as my friends and families vs the speediest mechanic who’s a condescending asshole to me

Katsuki who is hella sharp as well as powerful and going to an elite school also draws people to him but he has all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile so he is left at a distance from others as he often unpalatable and leaves a bad taste in the air

Katsuki is an outlier of social rules, he is so good at a largely valued skill that he is by and large excused from having manners, not many people can be that good at something nor are they lucky enough for that skill to be universally valuable

But from natural cause & effect and Denkis direct actions Katsuki is finally being held to standard by someone society deems his equal(even if the inner hero group doesn’t always, which was a benefit to their relationship by making him less of a threat to Katsukis greatness)

Denki(and the class at large) opinion of him holds value in a way he’s not used to at first, but he actually learns to embrace it and befriends Denki which once again gives him a novel level of accountability because he has a personal investment in Denkis opinion

This has the added benefit of helping him repair his relationship with Deku

Deku as awkward as he is has great interpersonal skills. But he was also an outlier, he actually had such little social credit that his interpersonal skills lost value to the point Katsuki was offended by them as well as scared.

Because as hard as Katsuki pushed Deku and his kindness away he couldn’t complete ignore that there was value in it and it was a value he sorely lacked in

By witnessing this value in a new light and no longer being exempt from striving towards it he was better able to see Deku for who he is as well as himself

Deku having this strength doesn’t immediately make Deku better than him nor does him struggling to achieve this kind of strength make him lesser

#my hero academia #mha #boku no hero #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #kacchan #deku #izuku midoriya #kaminari denki #dekubaku

[hx4x4enthusiast]

Two sparks and a drumming heart

Part 1 (3233 words)

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/jorico/721903257373605888/chapter-2-1560-words-warmth-covered-my-sore-body?source=share

Ship: Optimus x gender-neutral reader x Ratchet 

Fic category: hurt/comfort 

Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Depression, mention of past suicide attempt,

“Speech”

-Commlink conversation-

kursiv=thought

It was a calm Friday at the base, the kids finally got the permission from their parents, Fowler and Optimus to have a sleepover all weekend long. Difference all the kids sleep with their guardians, and I will sleep n the main area.

 You see everyone has a guardian, a protector of sorts, they pick you up from school protect you from the Decepticons spent time with you while you teach them about earth and humans. For example, Arcee is Jacks Guardian, Bulkhead protects Miko meanwhile Raf has Bumblebee as his Guardian and I well, I can take care of myself, always has always will and that is fine. Believe me I can understand Optimus is the leader of the Autobots he already knows all about Earth and humans a top of that he has the burden of an entire planet and war on his shoulder, meanwhile Ratchet constantly works from trying to help with scientific advancements to give constant medical services.

 Ratchet is a medic to be more precise the medical officer of the Autobots, and probably the person that loathes me the most. And I tried to befriend him, or at least be on civil speaking terms (like June), with him but every time I try, it seems the opposite happens. Some people just don’t get along with others. And I would stay out his way believe me I can take a hint. My other half guardian would be Optimus he is the leader. He is civil with everyone, and kind of the only bot Ratchet is willing to listen to. He is nice we, on the rare occasion he has time, talk about books. But well Optimus is the Autobot leader and a Prime he doesn’t have time for a small human like me, which is absolutely understandable, I mean he carries the weight of the fate of our planet and the future of his planet on his shoulder. While simultaneously being a strong leader for his team and fighting in a war. Problem they are my guardians, well half guardians, they sometimes just drive me home or well bridges me there. But seeing the other kids with their guardians does make me miss something I wish I had, but that’s just me being silly. And I have my ways to deal with these thoughts and feelings.

 Shaking myself out of those thoughts I look at the time and realize the kids are not going to be back soon. Jack and Arcee were on Patrol, Raf and Bumblebee were out as well probably racing and finally, Miko and Bulkhead are out dune bashing. Realizing I have the bathroom to myself I grab my bag and move into the direction of the shower.

 We all had bags in the base with back up clothes, sleeping bags and basic hygiene products after one-to-many incidence that ended in us needing a change of clothes or having a spontaneously sleepover. And I was in desperate need of a shower.

 Infront of the bathroom we put an old locker where we could put our stuff, the locks were Jacks idea to make the locker Miko-proof. After I took my clothes and shower out of my locker, I checked the floor to check for anyone in the hallway. Knowing it was empty I rummaged through my bag to get to a small cardboard box buried under my clothes. Having the little box in my hands I pull out one of the wrapped articles an put the box back into its hiding spot. Having the utensil concealed underneath my clothes I give one last look into the hallway before stepping into the the room with the showers and putting my clothes into the designated spot. I start to strip out of my clothes, and leave them on the floor, they are a problem for future me. Taking my shampoo, bodywash, towel and the still wrapped object I proceed into the actual shower. The warm water on my skin feels like heaven and I release a shaky breath.

 There are several reasons in my opinion why showers are great. But the biggest is probably that a shower washes everything away like stress, exhaustion, tears, and blood. Though I suppose for most people they are just a way to get clean. In the background of my brain my thoughts are continuing their philosophy about humans and shower time. While I watch fascinated, with the occasional sharp sting on my lower arm, as red mixes with the clear water and goes down the drain. I glance to my arm and see my dominate hand holding the now unwrapped blade while continuously slitting red lines into my skin. The little red drops don’t even have time to form as they are immediately washed away. It has been some time since I last did this. When did I last cut myself, it was probably a few weeks before I met the Autobots. Right, I wanted to kill myself on the day I met the Autobots but couldn’t go through with it because The Decepticons attacked me before I could begin. And since then, I didn’t find the time. Oh, right I should go back before someone tries to find me. No one should see me this way.

 Quickly washing my hair and body, while being careful around my wound, I turned off the shower and dried myself up, carefully dipping around the wound, it was a good decision to buy black towels.  After throwing on a hoodie and a pair of short sweatpants I clean up after me and leave the shower, stuffing the wrapping paper and blade into my hoodie, to dispose of them later. After gripping my bag and putting it back into my locker, I slowly start to trot back to the others.

 The main room came into view, mentally preparing myself for the social flood I take a deep breath and step into the room. Only to find nothing, or more like no one, the room is empty. The human area is missing Jack, Miko as well as Raph and even Arcee, Bumblebee along with Bulkhead are missing. Only Ratchet and Optimus are on the computers no doubt calculating and strategizing the future of the Autobots. Having just taken a few steps into the room both of them suddenly freeze which is concerning. After they scan the room for whatever it is that unsettles both their optics land nearly contemporaneous on me.

 “Uhm are you okay should, should I leave, I can go no Problem I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Do you know where the menaces are I wou-.”

“You are injured.”

“What?”

“You are injured.”

  I blinked my mind trying to process onto what is happening. While Ratchets observation is not wrong, how did he know? Does Optimus know? He looks just as shocked as Ratchet. Wait do they know? Know what I did? No, they can’t that’s not possible. But they are aliens, with high tech and Ratchet is essential a doctor. My body erupts into goosebumps, and I have a full body shiver. Which tears me out of my thoughts. Just in time to see Ratchets green arm scanner disappearing and him looking at the apparent scan results. Looking up it’s like some turned a switch around and he is in doctor mode.

 “You have multiple incisions on your underarm. The next steps are to clean the wound and wrap it up to keep the wounds from getting infected and help with the healing process. Now follow me to the med bay so that I can ensure the appropriate treatment of the wounds and check if there are incisions that need stitching.”

 I look shell shocked between Optimus and Rachet. Unable to react.

 “Well, what are you waiting for the faster you receive medical treatment the lesser the chance of infection.”

 One thought crosses my thought. -If Ratchet takes me to the med bay he will see the wound, if he sees the wounds, he wants to know how they came to be. Then I must explain, then they will now that I am a useless wreck, and they should abandon me. - Scared of the reaction that will follow the reveal of the reasons behind my scars I do the only thing, sensible to me at that moment. I turn tail and bolt out of the room into maze which are the corridors of the old missile silo. Followed by an angry shout.

 “You better come back here right this nanocycle, or so help you, Primus!”

 The floor feels like it is vibrating and the muffled sound of something solid hitting the ground repeatedly, changes to fast approaching vehicles. A Blur of red and white speeds past me, I collied with solid metal. A Ambulance is parked right in front of me. The ambulance belongs to a medic, a medic which patient just went AWOL and not only tried to escape treatment but also him. Doing a 180 is met with yet another collision, this time though the metal adorns a red-blue colour scheme and the vehicle changes from an ambulance to a semi-truck. Both ways blocked by vehicles and surrounded by thick concrete walls that are enclosing rapidly.

 “What is wrong with you? What happened back there?”

 “Little Archivist?”

 A high-pitched tone goes through my ears and my hands instinctively cover them, only for my chest to feel like someone laid multiple rocks on my lungs. Rapidly trying to take deep breath to get oxygen in my lungs doesn’t seem to work and my vision starts to blur. The feeling of a calm deep baritone voice starts to slowly blend the high-pitched noise out. while the feeling of warmth and something smooth encircles me. Drawing small patterns onto the metallic looking appendage start to pacify the wind whirl in my thoughts.

 “You are safe our little archivist, everything’s going to be alright, we are here.”

“Can I come closer? Is it okay if I touch you?”

 Looking up I am met with the concerned optics of Ratchet. I nod and slowly the feeling of something warm and smooth encircles me. And I find myself sitting in a metal servo with a cybertronian equivalent of a thumb gently draped over my legs Drawing small patterns onto the metal appendage furthers the process to pacify the wind whirl in my thoughts. And I feel a light draft from being slowly lifted, as Ratchet starts to slowly right himself to his full hight. Optimus slowly makes his way over to us with careful steps, like one would do when faced with a scared animal.

 “Little Archivist, are you back with us?”

 Looking up to Optimus I nod, his faceplate shows the same feelings as Ratchet. Confusion, Concern and behind the two one could see fear.

 “We won’t discuss or ask about what transpired if you don’t feel ready for that conversation.”

“But I do need to take of your wounds. I won’t ask any question related to how you got them, in exchange you will go with us to the med bay and let me take care of the injury.”

“And after the medbay you will stay within both see and hearing distance of either me or Ratchet, which includes recharge which we will do once Ratchet has checked you, over. Do you agree to our condition?”

 I nod unsure and confused on what else I could do. Ratchet carefully curls his servo around me and we move into the direction of the medbay. No one saying a thing.

  As Ratchet walks through the doors of the medbay Optimus directly behind us closes the doors and moves to the side of the berth Ratchet carefully put me on. A series of clicks later two mass-displaced cybertronians are sitting next to me. As Ratchet makes a move to inspect my arm, I get startled out of my vegetive state and recoil back. Right into Optimus. Gently he lifts me up like I weigh nothing and deposit me into his lap. One servo circles around my midsection and remains there light enough to not make me feel trapped but still secure enough to give comfort and be grounding. All the while laying his other servo on my head and tenderly guiding my head to his chest plate right above his spark.  The sound of his spark giving me something to focus on, as I lean against him.

 “Your safe little archivist, we are here, we want to help you.”

The deep rumble of Optimus voice and the warmth of his chassis made me snuggle closer to him.  

 “He is right little spark, would it be ok if I touch you? I want to take a closer look at your wounds.”

 Looking up at Ratchet I saw the gentle look upon his faceplate, being reassured by his words and voice.  I slowly uncurled my arm and hold it out for Ratchet, my scars on full display for both cybertronians to see. Both silent as Ratchet inspects the scars and starts getting the supplies, he needs to clean the incisions, from his human med bag that I only notice now.

 “I am going to disinfect the wound now, little spark. This may sting a little.”

 Hissing as the alcohol-soaked cotton ball hit my wounds was the only thing I could really do, with the firm grip Optimus and Ratchet had. I couldn’t escape or really move my limbs, though I weirdly didn’t feel trapped, it felt comfortable, it felt safe. After cleaning up the wounds, Ratchet put some ointment onto aid in the healing process and started wrapping up the arm, while continuing to hold my arm in the strong hold. Ratchet took a deep vent, a human custom he adopted. And raised his helm util his optics met my eyes.

 “These incisions are very clean, like they were created with a sharp object under the intension to cause harm.”

“A sharp object like a knife or a razor blade.”

 That sentenced from Optimus made me look up, only to see his gaze on a small metal object in his left servo that had previously held my head. I paled and try to escape only to realize Optimus had tighten his grip around my mid-section and Ratchet held my arm the same way Optimus held my mid-riff. Atop my legs were trapped between Ratchets thigh guards. It was clear that they both did this before and had no intension of letting me run away again.

 “No no, let me go. Please I won’t do it again I swear. Just please.”

 In hindsight I also could have tried to move a brick wall and would have been more successful. But in that moment my flight reflex complex was in full motion. Ratchet took that moment to ask the dreaded question.

 “Little Spark did you do it? We are not mad or disappointed, we won’t scream or judge you.”

“But we need to know if you hurt yourself, little archivist. We want to help but we can only do so if you let us.”

“You are important to us, we don’t…can’t lose you. Please talk to us.”

 Hearing their concern, I hesitantly looked up to see their optics on me. Fear and sadness edged onto both of their faceplates. Seeing the always confident leader of the Autobots and the consistently guarded medic be this vulnerable for me. They cared for me, the one always over, the third wheel made, the back-up friend, made me break. For the first time in a long time, I opened up to someone, let someone see my heart, see me. Not the carefully crafted persona made to please everyone. No, I showed them the real me the shattered person that fixed themselves with all-purpose glues and duct-tape. I always was pretty ugly when I cried.

 ­

As my crying ebbed down into silent little sobs and I realize my surroundings. I find myself in a hug, surrounded by warmth and seeing parts of an orange-white shoulder pad. Slowly the shoulder pad moved back to reveal a chassis with a helm and a face plate with a look of love, care and relief.

 “Now little spark, I say you need a good recharge, doctors’ orders.”

 I heard Optimus chuckle, at Ratchets attempt to hide his as he calls it “soft side”, as he lifts me up and into his arms. Causing me to yelp and latch onto Optimus due to the sudden movement. Causing another chuckle from Optimus and a small smirk from Ratchet.

 “I agree with him you need rest, little archivist. Besides I don’t think it is wise to go against a medic’s orders. Especially Ratchets”

“Can I get that in writing.”

 I couldn’t help myself and smiled, it was small and a little shaky, but it was real, the first one in a long time, that wasn’t forced. Turning back to his original size ratchet took Optimus with me in his arms into his servo and moved out of the medbay.

 “Where are we headed?”

“To our hab suite little spark. Because besides you there is another bot that hasn’t recharged in a few decacycles and desperately needs to shut down.

 Said bot kept quiet and didn’t acknowledge the hint Ratchet gave. Continuing the journey to the bot’s quarters while surrounded by Optimus warmth and with the gentle movement of Ratchet, my eyes felt heavy, and I couldn’t contain my yawning. The Adrenalin is probably leaving my body. Fighting against the exhaustion seemed useless as I grew more tired from minute to minute. Until sleep claimed me and I fell asleep in the arms of Optimus.

Feeling a sudden weigh on his shoulder the Prime carefully moved his helm to see their little human deep in recharge on in his arms. Feeling a small smile make his way onto his faceplate as he carefully readjusted his grip on the small human.

 -Ratchet it seems our little sparkmate, didn’t make it to our berth to fall into recharge. -

Ratchets gaze fell upon his Counjux to see the little human, in his arms, indeed had felt into recharge.

 -Well, are you surprised, after everything that happened today. I am just disappointed we didn’t notice it earlier. Then they wouldn’t have to suffer today. Who knows how long they already had to deal with this on their own. –

 Feeling the blame Ratchet put on himself through their spark bond. Optimus looked up to his Conjux.

 -Not you or I are to blame for not this. Though the situation my be dire it is good we have found out now before worse could happen. Now we are able to help, able to stand beside them to fight of their inner demons. –

-Always the poet, Optimus. But enough of the sentimental their will be more than enough time for that in the future. For now it’s time for recharge, both of you desperately need it. –

 Seeing they arrived at their shared hab suite. They end their commlink conversation, as Ratchet carefully deposits them on the berth. Optimus carefully lays the sleeping human in his arms down, before changing back to his original size and laying himself next to his conjux. Taking their little human between them. They share a little kiss before powering down to the sound of two sparks and a drumming heart.

#transformers #transformers prime #macaddam #ratchet x reader #optimus x reader #optimus x ratchet #optimus prime #transformers angst #transformers comfort #ratchet #gender neutral reader

[cowboyjen68]

howdy jen!

I’m a younger butch, 22, and i only recently came into this label in the past year or so. i cut my hair and started embracing myself and am so much better for it, but it’s also brought a lot of struggle. primarily, i have a really hard time feeling desirable. i don’t know if it’s something to do with where i am or just my age, but i feel like it’s so much harder to meet people who are into people who look like me. it’s hard to look visibly queer, and it’s hard to be masculine. a lot of the time i feel pride in my roll as a protector and safe person, but it becomes so exhausting when i never feel safe myself. when i never feel desirable. i wonder if this is a common thing amongst butches, and if so, how do i get past it?

You could be me talking when I was 23 and just coming out. My first thought, once I really realized that I was a bit different from many of my female friends, was “What lesbian is going to be attracted to me? Lesbians like other women and I kind of look like a boy”. I truly thought that my stature, the way I walked, whatever energy or movement got me consistently mistaken for a boy (or man) was the very reason why I would never find love or passion with whom I most desired, another woman. 

In college I toned it down, I kept my hair long with a sort of short in the front mullet. I wore generic jeans and a sweatshirt to try to be somewhat comfortable but also unremarkable in my clothing choices. Looking back it made no difference. I was clockable as a lesbian, and butch, long before I fully admitted who I was to myself. 

I felt unattractive. I refused makeup and more feminine clothing and convinced myself it was because I was a “feminist” or didn’t want to invite the gaze of men because I wanted to focus on college and not date. I just knew I would be alone forever (which sounded better than being with a man in any case) and no woman would look at me as anything more than a goofy friend. 

Years later, after talking to my old friends and nights chatting with my older lesbian friends in my early 20’s I realized we all shared very similar experiences. Very few women think of themselves as desirable to others. It was the rare one, usually traditionally attractive and outgoing, who had some idea that she was interesting to the opposite sex even if she had no desire for that. Most of us had this idea that we were just plain, or ugly or just not attractive, especially to the demographic we most wanted to desire us as a romantic partner. 

The fact is, many women have a similar feeling to what you are going through regardless of her sexual orientation. 

On to the good news. The greater Western culture tends to portray butches in the media either ugly and rude or stoic or as some perfectly physically fit woman who wears a sports bra to show off her muscles and is brimming with a snarky confidence. That is show biz and not real life. 

I hear young butch4butches and young femmes and garden variety lesbians lament all the time that they can’t find butches today. “Where have all butches that love being butches gone?”  they ponder. So as a butch there are plenty of women out there seeking you and wanting to see and meet you. 

We are quite visible and it is hard to hide our lesbianism when we are in public. And most of us don’t want to. We want to be comfortable as ourselves so we put on a stiff upper lip and go into the world looking as confident and sometimes as tough looking as we can muster. Once you meet the right friends and date a woman with whom you connect you will find a feeling of safety if you let it. Allow your friends to carry some of the burden. Listen to them when they say they have your back. Let the woman you are dating stand up for you and talk about how wonderful you are. 

Take a look at my tiktoks or posts here on tumblr and you will see that butches are loved and appreciated but a vast majority of the LGBT Community. 

Wear what makes you feel confident. Get out to events at the gay bar, concerts, even non profit fundraising events. Take the time to go to places that require you to dress up and put some effort into picking an outfit that suits you. Looking good can truly lead you to feeling good. You can boost your own confidence by getting a good haircut that you love, shining your boots and putting on some light cologne. The best way to get past the feeling of being inadequate as a dating partner is to get out and meet more women to befriend.  The more women you meet the more you can see you are not alone 

As you meet more people,  and form more community connections, you become more comfortable as yourself and you feel much less endangered in public. You learn that much or your fear is thinking others are watching you when in reality most people are just trying to get through their day. This is not to say it is not important to read your surroundings, it certainly is, but you will feel much more at ease if you feel confident in yourself.

#butch #lesbian #confidence #dating #love

[bibibbon]

JJK hot take and analysis

One of the biggest hot takes I have is that higumara should of been a female character.

As well all know higumara is supposed to be a parallel to nanami and this goes in multiple ways from the way they interact with yuji to the way they view the non Jujutsu world.

Both sorcerers are regarded as the working class sorcerers.

Their Parallels range from both of them wanting to save people. With higurama this was one of his reasons as to why he was a lawyer and it's the reason as to why his cursed technique centers around the judgement system because he seeks justice no matter how harsh ot hard it may be to achieve it. By his strong sense of justice is where his care/relationship with yuji comes in to play. higumara as a sorcerer and person met his match he saw someone so broken down by the system that, that person believed that he was the problem rather than him being a victim. To higumara, yuji is everything that he failed to protect in that harsh society.

This all parallels with nanami and his ideology of "being a child isn't a sin". Nanami is known as the protector of the youth and he died being that to yuji however, nanami also had his own fair share of guilts and as much as he tried to protect yuji from the curse of his last words by encouraging him to finish the job he only makes yuji bare another burden of carrying nanami's pain with him (an accidental yet ironic thing).

Both characters last words and death include passing their will down onto yuji and trusting him to finish the job and continue living.

Both characters are well known for overworking themselves and both of this overwork could of been seen in a selfish way. Nanami took this job to escape from the cruelty of Jujutsu society and only wanted to gain enough to move away and live somewhere like Malaysia but higumara wanted to protect others with all he can and shed lights on the corruption/harshness of the system.

Both characters turning points end up because they went back to their roots. Even though they thought that they changed and escaped from their pasts that catches up to them and drags them down a heavily familiar route all over again. With higurama it's in his fight with yuji that he remembers why he even took said lawyer path and denied the path of a judge and with nanami it's how he came back into Jujutsu society to then meet someone so similar to haibara that he chose to dedicate his life into helping protect the youth.

Both are also classified as grade 1 sorcerers.

Both ended up dying in shibuya but higurama seemed fulfilled he accepted that he did what he could and it was enough for him, however nanami wanted more it was his death that made him value living and made him look towards the future towards a brighter path than he will never live.

Both feel heavily guilty about the things they have done especially when it comes to looking at the injured or killed. Both of them describe it as awful or are disgusted by this. We can see it with nanami in shibuya with ijichi and with higurama with the two people he killed.

Both deeply care for their mentoes and have a good relationship with them. Nanami and ino. Higurama and his mentee.

Higuramas death makes yuji Futher solidify his beliefs allowing him to state," Iam a Jujutsu sorcerer" whereas nanami's is what destroyes yujis resolve and leads to his breakdown in shibuya and then later on gives him strength to continue.

I think that higurama should of been a female character with this development as I think yuji lacks dynamic with older female characters and considering that character in the culling games arc directly are there to critique something about Japan I think that higurama could of been used to show the inequality between men and woman in Japan and any female problems that Japan itself faces. Also Iam a sucker for yuji having some maternal figure

#jjk spoilers #jjk manga #jjk analysis #jjk critical #jjk ramblings #jjk rant #jjk #nanami kento #higuruma hiromi #hot take #higurama should of been a female character #i dont think him being a female character would change much but improve story #yuji and nanami are precious to me so are yuji and higurama

[learning-islam-together]

Gaza is suffocating now.

We received a message from the scholar Sheikh Dr. Muhammad Ratib al-Nabulsi. It is a supplication, and he asked to publish it today, and here we are publishing it, and we ask everyone to publish it.

Read aloud, sensing the situation while being certain of our worthiness for Allah to hear our cry for help💔 and say Aameen🤲 Share this supplication.

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

O Allah, O pillar of the One who has no pillar.

O Protector of the weak, and Savior of the perishing.

O Great Hope, O Mighty, O Mighty, O Mighty Allah, we complain to You of our weakness and lack of resourcefulness.

O Allah, we ask you, O Allah give relief to those calling for help, and safety to those who are afraid.

Help the people of Gaza, O Allah, help the people of Gaza, O Allah, help the people of Gaza, O Allah, remove their distress, O Allah, hasten their relief.

O Allah, bring peace between their hearts.

And unite the word to the truth, O Lord of the worlds.

O Allah, O Possessor of Majesty and Honour, O Ever-Living, O Sustaining, O Most Friendly, O Most Kind, O Possessor of the Glorious Throne, O Originator, O Restorer, O Effective of what He wants.

O Allah, we ask You to have mercy on the people of Gaza

O Allah, grant them Your support.

O Allah, shade them with clouds and shade them with Your angels

and Your mercy.

O Allah, and shade them with Your forgiveness

And Your compassion.

O Allah, relieve their burdens and strengthen their hearts.

O Allah, grant them warmth, peace, security and safety.

O Allah, send patience to them, make their feet firm, and bestow upon them the blessings of safety, security, and faith.

O Allah, put light in their hearts, light in their hearing, light above them, and light below them, and light on their right, and light on their left.

O Allah!

O Allah!

O Allah!

O Strong, O Kind,

O Supporter of the oppressed and O Guardian of the Believers.

We ask You for Your mercy and forgiveness.

Your Generous Presence and Benevolence.

To accept our martyrs and heal their wounded.

May Allah have mercy on the bereaved mothers, the widowed wives, the kneeling elderly, and the orphaned children.

Who is their Protector but You, who is their supporter but You, who is merciful to them but You, and who is their representative but You.

O Allah, strike the oppressors with Your Might.

Expelled from Gaza, the infidels and enemies of religion.

O Allah, disperse the oppressors and divide them from uniting.

O Allah, whoever wants division and hostility towards Gaza and Palestine, O Allah, tear them all apart.

O Allah, bring them to account in numbers, destroy their plots, and do not leave any of them behind.

May Allah’s blessings and peace be upon our Prophet Muhammad ‎ﷺ and his family and companions.

Please post as much as possible.

A request from the people of Gaza to please publish it today. We do not want a number. Just try to publish it for everyone on your list. May Allah accept your prayers reward you with all the best.

*Dr. Muhammad Ratib Al-Nabulsi*

Ameen

#learningislamtogether #muslim #hadith #islam #quran #hijab #muslimah #qur’an #allahisone #mashallah #dawah #ramadhan #ramazan #rasulullah #islamicpost #welcome to islam #islamicreminders #islam help #revert islam #islamdaily #islamic #convert to islam

[ravencromwell]

Ros Vortalis trans headcanons

There are some remarkable trans Holland fics and headcanons, but can we talk about Ros Vortalis, whom all of his friends simply call Vor? Who, even when he’s _dying Holland calls Vor, to be expected, but also Vortalis which’s so much longer than Ros.

A bit of googling informs me Ros is “protector” in German, which’s chef’s kiss one hundred/ten no notes V.E. But it’s also, more frequently, a diminutive of Rosalind. Disclaimer before I start these that I respect and love! the headcanons of Makt as fairly gender nonrestrictive, with power being more of a defining factor of treatment. My Makt, however, is more complicated, with gender and gender transitions being imperfect but still a site where joy can be created, much like the rest of White London existence. Putting the rest of these beneath a cut with that in mind because as a trans person, I know some days I can’t handle transness as careful complication to be navigated and don’t want to inflict it on anyone unprepared. (Though, I promise! there’re fluffy as fuck nsfw Vor/Holland and Vor/friends headcanons in here to cut the angst.)

Ros retains a shortened form of his given namefor business purposes within the Shal—we know Shal means “market” in Red London, and I tend to think it means the same in White, such that when Holland calls him a “thug from the Shal” he’s referring to Vor being in the merchant/smuggling business. When he transitions, he’s relatively young and honestly to flagrantly demand a name change would be seen by too many as blood in the water. His greatest focus, always, is Makt rather than his personal happiness and he’d rather be burdened with the “nickname” Ros and be capable of rising in the Shal in service of becoming king.

There’re two ways of transitioning: the easiest and least painful is utilizing a spell similar to Astrid’s with Lila and stealing a face and voice. But that spell fades with death and though Vor understands that his body is likely destined for desecration once he’s gone as Makt’s people drain its blood and magic, there’s still this stubborn demand that they destroy a body without the face that made him shudder every time his child self caught a glimpse (he is so grateful for a lack of mirrors in Makt for much of his young adulthood.)

So he chooses the harder, excruciating method: finds a bone magician to permanently reshape his body. Session after session, over months traveling abroad on a ship with only the open sea and crew to hear him scream himself hoarse.

The first time they share a bed, Holland strokes along the broadened shoulders, runs fingers along the scars on his chest—eyes fixed on Vor’s all the while— and murmurs: “If they did not believe you would hold the throne, they were fools.”

“I’m flattered.” He’s bright-eyed, with that deep, rolling-sea laugh.

“After this, very little would stop you.” Fools have marveled at the extent of spells across his body, and inwardly he howls in hysterical laughter because there is very little to dull pain in Makt, and the shipboard pain was so vast it made everything else feel like pinpricks by comparison. He’s never bedded someone who would know that as intimately as the man who had done his damndest to use that same magic in stopping Vor’s fist before it connected with his face, and the admiration uncoils something deep in his chest. “Sometimes I’m certain I can’t keep it. One moment it will be there and then not.” He manages a farse of a smile “Foolish, after all these decades, but such is the weakness of your future king, Holland.”

“Lucky you would have an Antari to put it back, then.”

By the time he returned to London, voice rumbling deep from an expanded chest, people understood quickly to use “Ros” with the proper pronouns or see just how effective the runes on his hands were. But well…Ros is an easier shirt than Rosalind to slip into, but it will never sit comfortably. As he develops allies, he finds that Vor and Vortalis fit easier. And it becomes a good gauge for trust. Those who understand implicitly how painful his given name is and respect that, are people worth keeping. It becomes easier, as fewer and fewer people survive who remember Rosalind.

There are far too many moments to count when former friends or lovers try to use “Ros” as a weapon, with a little smirk that says: “You never said we _couldn’t call you that.” And he’s deeply glad he made a relatively small name fuss and provided only a small chink in his armor. (Those sorts of people tend, inevitably, to cause the use of his knives. As though letting them close and showing kindness is an invitation for open season. But such are the risks in Makt, and he is a man who craves touch and closeness. What good to craft the ideal body only to never have it appreciated. The way Holland simply…withdrew from people after Talya is something almost unfathomable. Whether they’re the closest of friends or both king and night and! king and beloved—which’s pretty much always in my head—there’s a deep, profound ache that he could never touch Holland enough to make up for too many years alone.

It’s the dimmest flicker every time he sees the “knight” and “Antari” masks slip, when Holland leans against his shoulder or puts his head in Vor’s lap, eyes half-closing at fingers in his hair. But, simply because the task is nigh on impossible, doesn’t mean he won’t do his best. Vor touches Holland Vosijk a hundred thousand times in those two years of rule—and so, so many more if they both survive—and is so very, very grateful he could take the touches the best of his lovers and allies offered over the last thirty years. (On a slashy front, can we also just talk about how, as a couple, there’s an incomparable way arousal and awe intertwine for Vor _every time Holland reaches out and shows affection: a kiss against his temple as Vor lets their foreheads rest together; a hand moving slow and easy down his back. To be trusted enough for the most guarded man he’s ever met—it took Vor _months to convince him to kill Gorst and he’s never had to work so hard or wanted so desperately for someone to say yes in his life—to touch him is such a valuable thing that he has immense responsibility not to break.)

Also in couple’s verse: If Vor has a small regret, it’s that the bone magicians are far more skilled with outward, above-the-waist presentation—because the best of them have not only done this for trans people, but for criminals etc. seeking a disguise. Thankfully, they had no trouble cutting him open to ensure he would never be with child—he doesn’t have the vocabulary for dysphoria, but the idea of his stomach rounded and heavy is one of the few things that can make him viciously soul-deep terrified. But the below the waist equipment well, it’s not a magic Makt has the luxury of learning.

By the time he meets Holland, it’s the very faintest of regrets: he has a collection of strap-ons for when he and a lover want to indulge in that particular fantasy—and is comfortable enough in his skin it’s an indulgence and not a requirement. It’s beautiful to watch lovers slide to their knees and take them in their hands or mouths or slide inside and watch them arch with pleasure. But oh, oh he wishes he could _feel it. It’s not a complaint worth voicing, and honestly after he becomes king, there’s very little time to indulge.

But one day, Holland comes back, smelling of flowers holding a box, tells the guards to wait at the end of the hall because he has crucial business from “the other London” for the king’s ears alone, which has Vor intrigued and concerned because he hasn’t come close to asking Holand to send a message. But before the concern can swell to anything beyond a flicker, he sees a flush so faint anyone would miss it who wasn’t watching. (Even before the Danes, Holland held his feelings and desires in an iron grip; Vor learned early in sharing a bed that Holland loathed the idea of being heard by those not his lovers when losing control: not merely a discomfort that could add spice to an evening, but viscerally, the way it would take everything Vor had to turn his back on an armed opponent.) This is pleasure, not business and he flicks his fingers in a silent command before they can even turn to look.

"Go get yourselves some dinner,“ he says for good measure, "If there is a foe Holland cannot protect me from, there’s little more bodies can do.”

When he opens the box…there are the usual straps but the cock. The cock feels like _skin. “The Arnesians-” and oh, there’s still so much contempt in those words “With their infinite supply of magic have learned to transmute. From earth to bone, and then something softer. There is an illusion for the Arnesians who want to forget the straps.” There were layers upon layers beneath that statement: neither of them wished, at least then, to go begging for scraps, but to _take a little of the bounty Arnes had hoarded,

“_Yes!”

Neither of them know how the illusion works: it is as mysterious as the fireworks Holland has seen that fool his eyes into certainty dragons fly across the unbearably vivid Arnesian sky. It does not matter; in those moments when Holland’s mouth is hot on skin, Vor is utterly, entirely certain Holland is swallowing down the cock he has always had.

It’s almost too much, leaves him speechless for the first time in decades, has Holland scrambling up and onto the bed even as his eyes are still glassy from watching the king come undone to wrap himself around Vor’s back until the world comes into focus again. “Is it only good once or-” he asks, finally and Holland’s smirk is wicked.

When he’s upending the Ost table and coughing up blood—, so much, too much kajt I hope Holland can take the throne because whoever these bastards are they can’t rule, the thing he clings to: more than “Stay with me"—though he _tries—, more than the raw panic in Holland _swearing—is the name. _Vortalis, he says when the table overturns—though it would be such a forgivable mistake to use Ros. Vor, he says while chanting stay and one of his blood spells. He will die as who he made himself, not as he was born.

The three threads of coherence for Holland are the blood spell. That Vor _has to stay. And that if he cannot be enough to stop this, he _will not let Vor die hearing him use the wrong name.

In verses where Vor lives, they both know the "thank you” when he wakes is not for the healing, though to be alive is a joy.

#Holland Vosijk #Ros Vortalis #Ros Vortalis/Holland Vosijk #[to anyone who saw this before I could add the read more fuck I'm sorry I haven't posted on here for too long and how you do everything wit #screen readers is different now] #queer stuff #my meta #shades of magic #please anyone who would like to incorporate any of these into anything Shades related do so gleefully #seeing any of these floating around in fic would make my fucking year #from the moment! all Vor's friends called him by his surname I wanted to write him as trans #so this is my gleefully self-indulgent Christmas present to myself #I'm taking the anxiety out of fic with an essay/meta and fic hybrid I first saw the brilliant #badassbutterfly1987 #use on a different topic a few days ago *bows to this ship's captain who's supplied a shockingly wonderful amount of content solo #and is watering my crops with current drabble collection* #it lets me not worry about producing a perfect product while indulging my love of dialogue and is kinda glorious #(for the record. askbox/messenger's always open to talk anything in this fandom #especially White London and/or these two whose dynamic has sent me into the hardest hyperfixation since I don't even know when

[therealjordan23]

You know, there are at least one thousand things about the season finale of TOH that I can pick apart and analyze. But no, I just want to talk about the ending. 

Those stances. The way our gang were standing… I mean whoever animated that shot alone deserves a raise. Those stances scream everything. You guys know I'm a sucker for analyzing body language, so let's dive in:

Willow: Her just standing there with a hand on her arm, while her expression has a hint of sadness/shock. Given everything that she and her friends have just gone through, it's understandable. From the framing, it looks like she's standing behind Amity, almost as if she's afraid of what's behind that door. I think she might not trust who's behind that door, as this is her first time venturing into a realm that's normal. I feel like she's in shock, because immediately going from a place where she's fighting for her life, to being invited into a safe place to rest/gather herself is a complete 180⁰. I also see total physical and emotional exhaustion. I mean, this girl just exerted all her strength into fighting. 

Amity: Shocked, but composed and postured. She doesn't really know what to feel or expect. She knows this is the first time meeting her girlfriend's mother, and despite being battered and bruised, she needs to make a good first impression. Though, despite all this, her expression is blank. She left behind not only her home, but siblings and father, while not knowing if they survived the Draining Spell or not. Heavy burden to carry, but she knows she's in a position where she can't do much. She can't go back nor can she contact them. So for now, making a good impression on Luz's mother would be sufficient enough. 

Luz: Dejected. Defeated. Almost empty inside. She, firsthand, just witnessed King sacrifice himself to save them, all with the full intention of sacrificing herself too. She doesn't know if Eda, Hooty, Lilith or anyone is okay, and now she left what is essentially her little brother in the hands of The Collector. And looking back on Luz's expressions while being in the presence of The Collector, we know that he absolutely terrifies her. And Luz has had her fair share of scary situations. 

When her mother first opens the door, it takes her a while to register that her mother is standing in front of her. We all know Luz is a sucker for hiding her emotions under fake smiles, and that's exactly what she does. When she looks up to see her mother for the first time in months, she tries putting on a brave face. She dons a weak smile, because she owes it to her. Camilla doesn't know what's been going on, and Luz knows she needs to convince her mother that despite these bruises and injuries… she's home. 

Gus: This one absolutely broke me. The way he's shivering, looking small and innocent. The way he looks at Camila for any hope or answers. It's just very eye opening considering his role in the episode—the entire episode, Gus was acting as a sort of big brother/protector for King. Asking King if he was okay, calling him buddy, and reassuring him that everything was okay when they weren't. Just the little things. Gus had to be strong for King's sake.  

So, to see the literal support system of this episode break down into tears is stunning. We've all been assuming Gus was the strong one, but when he realizes what just happened—the fact that his friends, family, are at home left behind to endure an impossible to predict future—it hits him hard. He does what anyone would do, and cries. Gus was the first one to break down, collapsing onto his knees in anguish. He's the first to begin crying, and letting loose everything pent up inside.

Hunter: I loved his expression. The way he was trying to be strong for Gus' sake, with his arm wrapped around his shoulder, comforting him? It's almost hard to remember all the shit he's just gone through: he just witnessed his "uncle" (yes, he's a dick, but there's definitely still some feelings there) Belos being annihilated by this assumed child with godlike powers, had to walk in his remains to get to safety, and this isn't even taking into consideration Hunter's general trauma. 

So, it's safe to say season 2 ended off with a literal bang. I love the subtle details. Everything about this episode was *chefs kiss*.

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #willow park #gus porter #hunter the golden guard #the owl house hunter #king the king of demons #king clawthorne #TOH #eda clawthorne #hooty #hooty clawthorne #king's tide

[tobiasdrake]

Examining MK1: And the Rest

Earthrealm and Outworld bear the brunt of the characters in this game, but there's a smattering of outsiders running about the twin realms as well.

Ashrah What a surprise it was to see Ashrah here. Between MK1 and Cage Match, they seem to be pushing Ashrah pretty hard right now. That's nice of them; She's a cool character. Netherrealm demon blessed by a sacred sword, allowing her to slay demons to purify her soul. It's a neat concept.

As an ex-member of the Brotherhood of Shadow, she also has potential to examine this particular corner of the MK-verse. One controlled by Quan Chi, occupied also by Noob Saibot and Sareena, but rarely dwelt on.

MK1 doesn't dwell much on it either. Ashrah shows up, explains her backstory, fights Quan Chi, and then leaves the plot. It's not much, and feels like it's only here to justify adding her to the roster. But as a character entirely snubbed from the first reboot, it's more than she's had in many long years.

Geras Geras is a dedicated guardian of time, here to do all the Time Keeper stuff while Liu Kang gets to fart around as Protector. Divorcing Kang from the Time Keeper role and leaving it mostly in Geras's hands was a good choice.

I like Geras, but I also wouldn't mind if he took the Hourglass and left. We need to start bringing down the stakes somehow; This shit is already out of control. Giving the protags limitless omniscience and even a degree of control over all of time and space is a big part of why it's out of control.

The Hourglass makes Liu Kang too powerful, such that the kind of multiversal timeline-hopping threats that drag down the end of the game became necessary. Shifting it over to Geras only shifts that burden. Passing it right back to Kang at the end, even moreso.

If there's a way to scale back from the Hourglass while keeping Geras, I'm all for it. But as it stands, he's the living embodiment of the out-of-control threat escalation bubble that Mortal Kombat currently finds itself in.

Havik Speaking of characters getting a big push recently, we have Havik. Returning in an MKX comic, then making his video game re-debut in MK1.

Chaosrealm's been culled from the lore for the sake of simplicity, turning Havik into a Seidan terrorist revolutionary instead. Which is typically Darrius's role. But he's not Darrius. He's inexplicably Dairou? But he's doing Darrius's shtick, which is why he has Darrius as his Plus One. They consolidated every Seidan character that isn't Hotaru into Havik.

Havik is the villain who most feels like he's along for the ride. He's here for the sake of having Havik in the game. He's rarely focused on, while his non-regenerative but unique fleshy-weird abilities get zero explanation whatsoever.

Like Ashrah, Havik's role in the game seems to be to assure audiences that the 3-D Era characters aren't forgotten, rather than having anything that the story wants him to actively contribute.

Also in that boat is....

Nitara While several characters took a heroic turn with MK1, Nitara took a turn for the wicked. As a vampire, there was always a necessary darkness to her character. But ultimately, her ambition was to free her people from Outworld's enslavement, and to protect them from being slaughtered by Ashrah. In a sense, she was a heroic figure - albeit a hero of vampires. It's complicated.

The new Nitara is still a hero of vampires. She seeks a way to solve a food shortage among her people, which she ultimately does by instituting livestock programs. Horrifying livestock programs. But. Y'know. Vampires.

But she's mainly here as a punching bag for the heroes. She allied with Quan Chi because she thought he could solve her problems. When he doesn't, she goes off and solves them herself.

She shares the problem that plagues Havik and Ashrah: These third-party characters are individually interesting, but are contextually so divorced from the events and characters and places driving the plot that there's not much they can bring to the table.

Quan Chi Quan Chi's problems are two-fold, suffering separately from a problem plaguing the Earthrealmers and one plaguing the Outworlders.

First, the problem of slavish devotion to reference. Quan Chi isn't here for any reasons that pertain to him as a character. He's here because he needs to be here, to fulfill all of the Deadly Alliance references that the game wants to make.

This is especially true of Titan Quan Chi - A character who stands with Titan Shang Tsung at the height of the ultimate conflict but who, and I cannot stress this enough, has not been present in this story until this point.

Titan Tsung went out and got an army of Titans, and decided to keep one of the Quan Chis to himself purely for the sake of Deadly Alliance nostalgia. Titan Quan Chi is Shang Tsung's purse.

The other issue is that Chains of Iconicity thing acting up again. One of the spirits from his Soulnado generator breaks free and, uh, bleaches his skin white. That's it. It wanted his skin to be white, because it's supposed to be white. The ghost wasn't after vengeance or anything; it was just bothered because he didn't look right.

Uh. Okay. Cool? Have a nice afterlife, vengeful spirit of a canon purist.

It's a funny reversal from the way the original series tried to treat Quan Chi as the newer, better, cooler, all-around more awesome Shang Tsung. We've gone from that to Shang Tsung dragging Quan Chi around by the ear for the sake of nostalgic aesthetic.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 12 #ashrah #havik #nitara #quan chi #geras

[dulcewrites]

I was thinking about the day Quinton was sworn to reader. I don’t know if there like an official ceremony or preceding for it. If not, let’s say there is:

- mentioned this before, but criston is the one who thinks Quinton should be the knight sworn to reader. He thinks out of all the others, he’d be the best fit and Alicent heeds his advice

- quinton had seen reader around the castle, quick flashes of dresses and hair but he’s never gotten a good look. Funnily enough, his first encounter with the baby targs was daella tugging on his white cloak to tell him he should fix his hair before a maid whisked her away (we are working on her tact 🙏🏽)

- quinton gets little information. Just that the Queen wants her good daughter protected and who is he to deny his queen

- let’s say he gets sworn in the great hall. It’s just reader, Alicent, criston, quinton, and a high septon (they swear in front of the Faith)

- quinton finally gets a good look at reader, and he knows something more is up. His eyes are focuses in of the bandages peaking from under one of these sleeves and tragically sad eyes.

- after the ceremony, before he can even properly introduce himself, criston pulls him to the side. “Don’t get too attached. Your job is to keep her safe and the kid safe. If you see anything suspicious you tell me.”

- at first quinton wants to be snarky bc criston of all people telling him not to get attached is hilariously ironic. But then he realized criston isn’t chastising him, he’s genuinely warning him. While criston would do anything for Alicent and the kids, he also knows the burden of being too attached.

Fast forward:

- Aemond and him kind butt heads from the beginning. Both of them are sort of that same brand of stoic boderline mean till their walls are down. the first time three of you are in the same room is so awkward.

- the first thing he does on the ~job~ is helping you move out of the room you shared with Aemond so yeah… awkward lol

- he’s not a huge fan Aegon but he at least likes Aegon is nice to you

- he had to try not to cry when you introduced him to alaric and told him what you named him

- you send his mom things and she’s gagged bc like omg it girl of realm is besties with my son???

But the moral of the story is I like the three different ways the men in reader’s life deal with their emotions towards her:

Aemond: says and does nothing, always an enigma

Aegon: uses his words. Always one to make declarations, even when it isn’t appropriate

Quinton: thinks declarations are beneath him bc hello… he’s your protector. I would argue that his feelings titer more on devotion than love. Does that make sense? I think there is a love there (he’s attracted to reader) but his type of love (if you can call it that) is different from say how Aegon may feel.

#fmo headcanons

[deathdxnces]

" keep tellin' yourself you're so righteous. ya got blood on your hands, pal. and i also mean that of people who were forced into the war. with no real ya know, just like you. now, call me a clown or non-human if that helps sleep at night. but ya got the mettle of a noxian. see ya on the flip side if ya realise it by then. "

— @axewhirl

He thinks he knows of the blood on her hands, when the little he is aware of is also that which she regrets the least. There are rivers, Irelia is certain, over ten years since her first kill. Countless of his people, slain on the battlefield, then countless more, whenever the noxians sought to establish a foothold, to venture too deeply into the land, to stay regardless of how unwelcome they always were.

Countless of her own, though those are never faceless victims. Old friends turned bitter foes, people she had never met before they raised their blades at her. They always share the same look, the disappointment of realizing something believed to be holy was in truth only human; there is no savior in her, no divine protector, no perfect leader (and what can festering disappointment become, if not resentment?). They meet her with hatred she answers with regret.

But guilt is not enough; it doesn't wash her hands clean. She is responsible, and their blood lingers, clings to her, stains her hands regardless of how many times she scrubs them clean.

He tells her she isn't righteous, as if she believed she had any right to be.

None of that is for a noxian to know of, nevertheless. Her sorrow is hers alone, a secret wound the dancer has no intention of sharing. What aches Irelia carries, rage determines none of the faults he tries to lay at her feet will be added to her burden. She had wondered often whether her defiance had been damaging, if it hurt Ionia as much as the invaders — but she knows that is not the truth of it. There would be no defiance, if not for them. And if she had to do it all over, the only change she would make was to ensure Swain was dead.

"I forced no one into the war. Noxus did. Even your own, who your precious empire would use, and yes, force into a war unprepared then abandon to die — and still you fight for Noxus, knowing what it has done." Incensed reply is followed by a scoff. "Ionia is a land of magic. There are many beings here, non-human creatures more deserving of life than your kind will ever be, demon. We are nothing alike, no matter how you try to twist the situation to make it seem so."

"I need no delusion to sleep peacefully," And if she doesn't, it is not the slaughter of noxians that keeps her awake. A graceful gesture of her hand, pink silk fluidly trailing after the movement — blades immediately accompanying it, not hesitating to strike. "It is enough to rid my homeland of your kin."

#» in character — ⌜the blade dancer.⌟ #axewhirl #i'm sorry she's. aggressive when it comes to noxians #will attack i'm afraid #but ough those asks are so tasty i love me some inner conflict #and i love you rey #mwah mwah

[codenamehazard]

.:Breaking the Shackles:.

.:InFAMOUS: No Man's Land Chapter 1:.

Hey guys! This is the first time I've posted a proper story onto here, so I am both nervous and excited to share it with you!

Since we probably will never get an InFAMOUS game that takes place after the evil ending of InFAMOUS 2, I figured why not throw my hat into the ring and have some fun with it?

Huge thanks to @rogueshadeaux for helping me out. She's a super talented writer and has her own InFAMOUS story, InFAMOUS: Erosion. Check her out, she's awesome and I have been learning a lot from her guidance.

I don't know if this is needed, but I'm putting it here anyways. MAJOR SOILER WARNING!

The story is from Cole's point of view, so be aware of that.

Buckle up and enjoy the read!

The night sky was clear, save for the odd cloud that passed overhead. The wind lazily blew as the fire before me crackled and popped. I warmed my calloused hands and closed my eyes, letting out a sigh. It had been a couple of weeks since I splintered off from the army I once begrudgingly led. A couple of blissful and quiet weeks of pure freedom.

It is in these times of quiet that I am able to think clearly, able to work out and make sense of all that happened over the past god knows how long. It’s hard to keep track of time when the only thing you can look at is the rising and the falling of the sun. I tossed a piece of splintered wood onto the fire as I began to think back. Think back to where it all began.

To when the shackles of the Messiah were forced upon my neck, arms and legs.

—-

I remember the day I became the Beast. After all that happened, all the pain, John just… Gave up and thrust his powers onto me. It was overwhelming, every nerve-fiber alight. The sensation was… Indescribable. It was heaven and hell all at once. It was… Incredible.

It’s a real shame that this buzz had one hell of a hang-over, the responsibility that John now shirked onto me. The task of raising up the next generation of Conduits. A burden I was now forced to bear, an expectation of greatness. Gee, doesn’t that sound fucking familiar?

In the beginning, everything was… Okay, I guess. I didn’t want to lead, never did and never wanted to, but who else would these people turn to? To them, I was their savior. I cured them of the plague that was ravaging their bodies and gave them powers, of course they were gonna look up to me. As much as I didn’t want to, I had to. I had to be provider, protector, teacher, mediator and all the lovely bullshit that comes from being a glorified baby-sitter of grown ass adults. I never sugar-coated anything; if they couldn’t follow me as I am, they won’t follow me at all.

God, and I thought dealing with Kuo and Nix butting heads with each-other was a real headache…

The only thing that made this hell tolerable was the fact that Kuo wasn’t riding my ass all the time, most likely thinking I’ve “turned a new leaf” and I'd suddenly become a changed man. I couldn’t help but scoff at the stupidity of it all, but who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

It wasn’t as bad in the beginning, the small group of fledgling Conduits all indebted to me was easy enough to manage. I could stay on top of everything and make sure they didn’t kill each-other while still having a tiny sliver of time to care for my own needs. Over time, as the numbers grew, so did the headache. It seemed like there was always something that needed my attention and if I ignored it to let them sort it out like adults, Kuo would be oh so helpful and “remind me” to go take care of it. I couldn’t get a moment’s peace, more and more I found myself unable to care for my own needs.

It. Was. Hell.

The responsibility of a savior, the nagging of Kuo, the neglecting of my own needs- God it felt like college all over again. My parents bore down on me when all I wanted was the freedom to do as I wished. A hunger started to grow inside, a need that I sated greatly when I had taken over Empire City and made it my own. A hunger for destruction, a need to take what I wanted. This hunger only grew the more I suppressed it. Every now and again, I would try and sate my hunger: toying with enemies, letting loose with my powers, instilling fear into those who followed me, but every time I tried, that icy bitch would get on my ass. If anything, she seems to be much worse than she was before.

It’s easy for her to say. Easy for her to bark at me from her pedestal and scold me, she’s not the one sacrificing anything and she thinks she has the right to judge me? HA! She abandoned her morality when faced with her own mortality, what high ground does she even have? She doesn’t have a fucking leg to stand on.

While infuriating as it was, as much as I wanted to leave, I felt like I couldn’t. I hated this role I was forced to play. Again and again, I was found in the role of the errand boy. Even with my choice, my choice to go against the “destiny” that Kessler groomed me to have, the greatest act of defiance I have ever committed to finally, finally free myself from this vicious cycle. All I seemed to do was to swap one set of chains for another. The breaker had been tripped and I was done!  I wanted to be free!

Yet, I couldn’t be free, as without me… All of my hard work would go to waste. I was the only one who could awaken these dormants, the only hope that some people come out of this alive. Without me, these people would die. It was a burden I didn’t want, but it was one that must be shouldered, one I was forced to bear. These shackles I must wear until the end. This was fact, whether I liked it or not.

That is… Until one day.

The small army of fledgeling and newly fledged Conduits and I had gone through Lawton, Oklahoma. I had leveled the city down to the ground and awakened the Conduits within, but I had noticed that there were… Less Conduits than I thought would in a population of around 90k or so. This had spooked Kuo a bit, making her frantic. She believed that the reason for the lower numbers was due to the Ray Field Plague picking up steam and starting to kill faster. A reasonable train of thought. I would have believed it to be the why had there not been something else that I had noticed before Lawton. Something that had been starting to gnaw at the back of my head.

While Kuo was too busy harping on about me not keeping every Tom, Dick and Harry in line because… Oh I don’t know, I’m only one person. I had been paying attention to what was around me and I had started to pick up on some interesting… Discrepancies, if you will. The kind of disturbances that only Conduits could make: scorch marks with no true source to be seen, areas that looked damaged by various elements with no cause, a slight echo of energy in certain spots. These oddities reminded me of the damage I caused back in the beginning, those two weeks in Empire when I was trying to figure out my powers on my own. It made me start to wonder. Was there something else going on? It couldn’t be another Beast or someone running around with a third Ray Sphere… Could it?

The thoughts only continued to grow as I traveled westward. More signs of Conduit activity, but no Conduits in sight or any signs of an activation method. I started to ponder heavily, was it possible for a Conduit to activate themselves?

I got my answer as I traveled deeper through the Great Plains.

It was there I saw them, the “missing Conduits.” I stood in shock as I watched as two small gangs of super-powered humans clashed. Powers of all kinds and creeds striking and igniting the area with colors and damage. If that wasn’t enough, these Conduits weren’t rookies either, the way they used their powers reminded me a bit of the gangs back in Empire City. They had experience.

They had been awakened long before I came. Now the pieces were falling into place as I gawked at these… Free-Ranged Conduits as they fought. For what, I didn’t know, but all I knew was it looked like one hell of a party and I wanted in. That feeling, that urge, my hunger, it now burned hotter than before. I was about to rush down before I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

I turned my head and let out a low growl when I saw it was Kuo, stopping me. “Leave them be, Cole. It’s a good thing we figured out the mystery, but we still have a job to do. There are still people who need you.”

We? HAH!! There is no we. The only time she ever lifted a finger was either to bitch at me or when I had to twist her arm to actually get her to be useful and actually help for once. I pull my shoulder away from her touch. “Don’t touch me, Kuo.” I had hissed out at her before continuing onto the next city.

That day, that moment… It never left me.

I continued to see these Wild Conduits as I traveled on. Seeing how free they were. Able to live their lives however they saw fit as they roamed in roving gangs, taking what they wanted, doing as they pleased. Having the freedom that for years I have been starved of. How they turned the Great Plains into a post-apocalyptic playground. Absolutely lawless. Seeing them made my blood boil. They got to be free while I was stuck in a cage. Such thoughts made me grow bitter and even more resentful than I already was. Even nature was reflecting the mounting rage. The clouds darkening and rumbling with thunder as the storm in my heart builds.

I slipped into my old Empire City habits, no mercy, no care. Why should I? It’s not like the world ever gave a damn about me, the only people who ever did are dead. Kuo only cared when I was doing the things she wanted me to do and the people I commanded didn't give a shit either. The hatred burning and gnawing away at my chest like a rabid animal, demanding I do something, anything, to let it free. To sate my long suppressed needs, to take care of myself for once, just as I had done before. I started to do just that, little by little. My attacks on cities became more brutal, my training and sparring more harsh and unforgiving, my temper growing shorter. The relief I felt was welcomed, but short-lived as soon afterwards; the screeching icy harpy would be at it again. Bitching at me, screaming at me, interrogating me, undoing all of the progress I made. One step forward and ten steps back. It doesn’t take a genius to see the obvious, I was a ticking time-bomb. All Kuo was doing was adding more gunpowder to the mix and shortening the fuse.

It was only a matter of time before I blew a gasket, and that day came sooner than anyone thought.

It was only two short weeks after that moment, I remember it well.  A pained scream rang out as I had thrown a pair of Fledged Conduits onto the ground, having beaten them senseless. They were getting into an argument about something; what it was, I didn’t give a shit. If they wanted to fight so much, I'd give it to ‘em. Now the two lay in the dirt, battered, bruised and pleading for mercy. I was about to knock them out when I heard the ear-piercing screech of that ice bitch. I felt the temp drop as she teleported over.

“What in the HELL do you think you’re doing??” She screamed indignantly at me. I turn my head to look at her, my eyes glowing with fury.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Dweedle Dee and Dweedle Dumbass wanted to have a scrap, I just gave them what they wanted. Is that a problem, Kuo?” My voice dripped with venom as I said her last name.

“What in God’s name has gotten into you? I shouldn’t have to tell you not to take your anger out on these people!” Her voice was like a fork on glass, piercing and painful. “You're a leader to these people! You can't just beat the shit out of them just because they piss you off!”

My face curled into a snarl as I walked up to her, I could feel the electricity in my arms building up as I got closer to her. “I can’t fucking win with you, can I?” I growl at her as I loom over her. “If I do something, you’re bitching and if I don't do something, you’re bitching! So which is it, huh? Do you want me to do something when these idiots act up or do you want me to let them sort out their shit on their own?” 

“What I want you to do is to be responsible for once in your life!” Kuo screeches out. “These people rely on you, Cole! You can't just do whatever you want! You saved them, you must protect them! It's your duty!” Those words. Those fucking words. It felt like my blood was replaced with hot plasma hearing the pure and utter audacity she has. She was a hypocrite.

A crash of red lightning overhead as I finally snapped. That’s. It.

Before she could speak another word, I raised my hand and unleashed a torrent of electricity dead center in her head. The force of the shock sent her flying backwards as the crimson glow of the bolts changed to a color I haven’t seen, a hue I had missed.

Black and red.

I walked over to Kuo as she laid on the ground, her eyes looking up at me dumbly. I could see it in her face, she was gobsmacked. She tried to get up to shout at me again, her hands forming the tell-tale mist that she was going to fire back a volley of her own ice, but I shocked her again before she got the chance. She writhed in pain on the ground as I stared at her, electricity arcing off of my arms and thundering rumbling above us. She slowly tries to get to her feet as she gets control of her body.

“Cole! Have you lost your mind??” Her voice screams out, full of fear and indignation.I couldn’t help but to scoff. 

“Lost it? No Kuo, if anything. I have found it.” I growl out with a sneer. “I’ve put up with your bitching and hypocrisy for far too long and I’m done.”

Kuo looks at me with that stupid shocked look, like she hadn’t known this had been a long time coming. “Are you giving up?” She gasps. “Wake up, Cole! This isn’t something you can-” I zap her again before she can utter another word. 

“No! You’re the one who needs to wake up, Kuo! It must be real easy barking demands and telling people what to do while you get to sit on your ass. Not even lifting a finger to help unless I force you to help me.” My voice dripped in malice and hatred as I got into her face. “It’s so easy to yap and bitch while not having to do any of the hard work or make any sacrifices.” I can tell she wanted to say something, but she seems to have enough sense to shut up, especially since the Beast is staring her down.

“What? No retort? No backtalk? Good!” I snap. “It’s high time you shut up and truly listen to me for once in your damn life.” I could feel eyes around me as I could feel the others coming around and spectating in fear. “They way you talk and act; you think being a leader, being a messiah, is a walk in the fucking park. You’re not the one sacrificing. You’re not the one bearing the weight of everything on your shoulders, having to neglect your own needs and go against your very nature because there’s always somebody who needs your help.” I could feel the static building on my skin as my mind rushed with thoughts of the past. Of all the moments I had been denied the ability to choose my path. “ You never had to deal with the pain of being forced into a role you never wanted, the feelings of being an animal trapped in a cage.”

“But, Cole…” I hear the harpy’s voice speak up, much meeker than before. “John gave you those powers for a reason, you have a duty to fulfill, a moral obliga-” I hold my hand up and she shuts up again.

“Oh no, don’t you even think about going there with that “moral obligation” bullshit. You don’t have a leg to stand on!” I hiss out, teeth bared. “You’ve always been like this, Kuo. You act all high and mighty but when it came down to the wire, you sold your soul to the devil. You’re no better than me, but at least I’m not a hypocrite like you.” I spat out those words as if they were acid in my mouth. “I know I’m no saint, I never have been and you’re a fucking idiot for even entertaining the thought that I had become a changed man after John shrugged off his responsibility onto me.”

“Look! I get it!” Kuo squeaks out. “You were hesitant to take on this responsibility, but I was trying to help you! Regardless of whether you wanted to be a leader or not, you are now! You have to step up to the plate and be better!”

Was she serious? Was she that dense? Did she not hear anything I said?? “Oh, you don’t like how I do things??” I snarl as I grab her shirt. “You think I’m such a terrible leader! You think being a messiah is so easy, Why don’t you try it!?” Venom dripped off of my words as I growled. “You think you know how to be a better leader, be my fucking guest!” I pushed her back, knocking her onto the ground. “I’ve had it with you, I’ve had it with all of this. I’m done.”

I turned around and began to leave, leaving Kuo in the dirt as terrified onlookers watched me. Hearing Kuo stand up and reach to grab my shoulder, I turned around and unloaded several thousand volts of “fuck you” into her. It wasn’t enough to kill her, but it was enough to hurt like hell. I wanted to make sure my message to her was loud and clear, I was done playing nice.

I stand up on a rock to address the crowd of onlookers. “I’m taking my leave of this hellhole.” I stated, my voice firm and matter-of-fact. I wasn’t going to pussyfoot anymore. “If you want to continue to follow me, I won’t stop you. That’s your choice to make. Just know that if you do, I’m not gonna hold your hand anymore. You sink or swim and you take care of your own shit like adults.” With that, I step down and I walk out into the open plains.

I walked, then I ran, then I sprinted. I could hear Kuo’s voice calling out for me, but I didn’t pay it any mind. My body was filled with adrenaline as I made my mad-dash towards the very thing I have been denied time and time again, like a wild animal broken out of its cage. Freedom.

I ran out into the wildlands and I never looked back.

—-

The fire was starting to dim as I slowly came out of my moment of reminiscing. I had been on my own for a couple of weeks and it was goddamn heaven. I was now doing what I should have been doing from the very beginning; whatever the fuck I wanted. The shackles of the messiah were finally broken and I revel in every second of pure freedom I have. For once in my entire life, I was now truly a free man. I answered to nobody but myself.

I tossed a piece of wood onto the fire to give it a little bit more fuel before I looked out onto the horizon. My lips curled into a genuine smile, the first time in forever. Endless possibilities now at my feet. My eyes catch sight of a small band of roving Wild Conduits and my smile turns to a grin. What lay before me was a lawless world, full of people just as lawless as I.The world before me was a chaotic Eden. Ripe for the picking and now it was time for the Beast to come and play.

I just hope, for their sake, that they’re ready for the storm that is now coming. After all, it wouldn’t be much fun if I broke my new playmates, now would it?

#infamous 2 #infamous #cole macgrath #Xeno Writes #fanfiction #Evil Ending #SPOILERS #tw spoilers #Evil Karma #Lucy Kuo #Also #just a heads up #My dislike for Kuo shows heavily here #So my deepest apologies to any Lucy Kuo fans out there! #Evil Cole #Evil Cole MacGrath #demon of empire city