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brightgnosis · 11 months

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Exegesis On The 'Wiccan Rede'

Everyone, Wiccan or not, at this point, knows (or at least knows of) 'The Wiccan Rede'. The cornerstone of Wiccan ethics is a contentious subject, especially among those who are not Wiccan to begin with ... But do they really? They surely know the Rhyme, at least: "An It Harm None, Do As Thy Will". And many think they know the meaning of it ... But in reality the snippet is far more complex- and yet far more simple- than it's often given credit for being. Exegesis is one of many ways through which we can come to understand its depth.

Starting at the very beginning, the ethical standards of “Harming None”, to many, often makes it sound as though the hands of the NeoWiccan Witch are tied to an impossible standard that's impossible to fulfil- and that is often the main argument against the Rede, especially by outsiders. Yet they are not tied by it at all; like the rest of the Rede, “And It Harm None” is not a moral precept that can be followed unthinkingly. Especially as it’s quite literally impossible to actually “Harm None” always in the first place.

There are situations in life when action is called for, when a Witch must respond with any "weapons" at their disposal. Likewise, occasionally there is no safe path at all and the best we can do is only minimize harm, not avoid it completely- choosing the least devastating option we can see. Perhaps more importantly, we are always working from the position of incomplete knowledge, occasionally producing disastrous outcomes unintentionally. And sometimes we will outright make mistakes of our own, and choose the wrong things altogether simply because we are Human Beings; even a refusal to act or decide out of fear of causing harm is in and of itself an action often with its own harmful consequences.

“And It Harm None” is merely a circle which is drawn around individual will and desire, and places it within the context of the greater Human interconnectedness with the universe. This directs us to first be aware that our actions project across both time and space. It then commands us to consider how those actions may affect our families, our coworkers, our communities, and life on Earth as a whole- and to take those projections into account whenever making decisions (whether those decisions are magical or mundane in nature).

Life also demands the assumption of ethical adulthood- and life affirming religions such as the Wiccan denominations are no different in this regard. Thus, any well-trained and conscientious NeoWiccan knows that they must take full responsibility for the decisions they make, and live with the consequences of making them; that we must learn from our past, be guided by it and our moral and ethical frameworks of reference, make a decicive decision on which to act- and then ultimately accept the results and / or consequences of those actions, and live with them for the rest of our lives.

Or, as Dana Corby said, speaking on the Mohsian Tradition specifically in 2006: "We cherish the Rede and follow the Law of Threefold Return. However, we also say that 'No one keeps a Witch's conscience'. In other words: If an initiate comes to believe that the Greater Good is best served by personal violation of the Law, they are free to do so and take whatever karmic lumps they deserve, so long as it’s performed with full knowledge of the possible repercussions to the ritualists".

It becomes clear, then, that “Harm None” is an ideal goal, not an inviolable rule to beat people with. But what about the rest of the Rede? "Do As Thy Will" ultimately has several meanings.

⤞Do As Thy Will, or: The challenge of action. In other words, don’t blame your mother, or your ex, or "the system", or wait around for Prince Charming to come and save you ... Get out there and do; create a plan for yourself and commit to action- not thoughtlessly, but with insight and wisdom.

⤞Do As Thy Will, or: The challenge to self direction. In other words, to actually take the time and initiative to self reflect, and figure out what we want for ourselves- not what others want for us; it’s easy to be molded by others, or to reflexively rebel without any thought ... It’s not as easy, however, to turn the mirror inward and determine our own desires, then consciously make the choice to conform, confront, or evade (etc).

⤞Do As Thy Will, or: The challenge to introspection. In other words, to know what we truly want beyond just the whims of the current moment ... To really listen to the voices within ourselves about what our deeper, more thoughtful and meaningful wants and needs actually are; this does not mean to blindly eschew all else in pursuit of those desires, however. Balance is still needed.

As the Lycian Transitional Wiccan Tradition rightfully points, out, however, the classic "An It Harm None, Do As Thy Will" is essentially an unfinished thought as it stands on its own; yes, in theory, through proper exegesis, it acknowledges the need for occasional harm. But in practice, this occasional need is not actually codified as it should be.

As they note, if we acknowledge the unsaid statement; that space of emptiness that lays there in the afterward … "An It Cause Harm" … Well … Then what? What if it does cause harm- which is arguably much more common, much to Human dismay and misfortune? We obviously cannot simply do whatever we will or want in these situations- especially as we are compelled to harm none in the first place. So where is the advice within the Craft for those actions?

Logically, then, a rede to cover all possibilities should be finished thus, as believed by the Lycian Tradition: "An It Cause Harm, Do As You Must".

In other words: You are free to commit any action with freedom within reason, if it is not harmful to another. But harm is justified when the situation compels you to commit it without any other option. However, if it causes harm you are obligated to do only what you must in order to defend or protect as necessary, and no more than that; to commit to true justice "the punishment must fit the crime", and so on and so forth.

Main Source: ‘Exegesis on the Rede” from Judy Harrow and the Proteus Coven; ‘A Witches’ Bible: The Complete Witches’ Handbook’ by the Farrars; The Lycian Sanctuary - or, the official web page for the Lycian Wiccan Tradition (LycianWicca.info); heavy personal extrapolation

This is my own compiled research on the topic from a multitude of sources, from my own Book of Shadows. I am always more than happy to share my sources, but if you found this helpful or interesting, please consider Tipping or Leaving a Ko-Fi (being Disabled, even $1 helps); you can see my other "Original Content" here.

This account is run by a Dual Faith «(Converting) Masorti Jew + Traditional NeoWiccan» & «Ancestral Folk Magic Practitioner» with 20+ years of experience as a practicing Pagan and Witch. If that bothers you, don't interact.

#Original Content #Original Witchy Content #2023 #Wicca #NeoWicca #Religion and Magic #Wiccan Ethics

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victorianpining · 11 months

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How do you reconcile Christianity with queerness? Really struggling 😑

(Putting this under a read more because this is obviously a triggering topic for a lot of people)

First, you are really, really not alone, and for me that "reconciliation" process started there. Like not only have I been there, so so many people have. You are not the only queer Christian, even if you feel like it, even if everyone around you is telling you that you can't actually be Christian if you are queer, even if you think you've never met someone in the same boat as you (you probably have). Obviously the specifics of what your worries are and how someone comes to accept their queerness as not contradictory to their faith are very personal. So before I give my answer, I want to direct you to some of the thing that helped me. It's bad timing with Reddit in crisis right now, but the Open Christian subreddit has been an extremely helpful place for me, everyone is so kind and loving, and being in a place where people have discussion about parts of theology that I was not aware of in my formative evangelical upbringing just really broadened my horizons and helped me really get into my head that the people shouting that you have to listen to them specifically to be a Christian are just plain wrong.

Obviously another option is finding an affirming church. I haven't had much success finding a church I feel 100% comfortable in for other reasons, but affirming churches are out there. United Church of Christ/First Congregational Church, Episcopalians, and now some United Methodists are all safe bets. If you want to find a "non-denominational" church *read their website!* I have found that if a church is affirming, they will clearly tell you that up front. If they something more vague about "all are welcome" that almost always means they aren't. And some queer people are okay in those environments, but in my experience, especially when you're trying to find peace with your identity, getting regularly told you're choosing to identify with sin or whatever is not helpful.

Lastly, making other queer Christian friends, in a forum, online, in real life, has been the most helpful thing to me. If I being a fallible person can meet these bright, kind, earnest people and think they are deserving of love, how much more is God able to love them just as they are?

So to the specifics. Again, that Open Christian subreddit has lots of resources pinned, so if you want to deal with the "clobber passages," (verses that get used to tell queer people they are irredeemable sinners, for people out of the know) and learn about the ambiguity of the original Hebrew and Greek, or alternate interpretations, or even ways to approach the Bible outside of a literal reading, that's all there.

However, in my experience when I was dealing with this, feeling so bone deep afraid that there was something fundamentally wrong with me that God was angry about me over, that anything that was reassuring to me was just me seeking out what I wanted to hear, that anything that didn't scratch that anxiety itch was just a pleasant lie, I found about 0% of that convincing. What helped was a combination of meeting other queer Christians and getting reassurance that none of us were evil people looking for any excuse to sin or whatever else people say, and focusing on what I fundamentally believe to be true about God.

And the God I know is a God of love and forgiveness, who saw humanity and decided to come and live among us, to give Himself for us (like think of that, God Himself suffering for ordinary people, knowing everything about us, even the worst, and He still thought we were worth it). And so it helped me in my anxiety to settle it that even if the shouting people are right that being gay or trans is a sin (the more time goes on the more convinced I am that it's not, but I wasn't there yet) then it is like all other sins in that it didn't stop God from loving us and dying to redeem humanity. It doesn't stop God from loving me and it doesn't stop God from loving you. Jesus' ministry showed that none of us are without shortcomings, that people so focused on other people's sins are ignoring their own, and that ultimately if we are commanded to do anything, we are commanded to love. (And unlike what conservatives say, we do know that God's love is kind and gentle, Jesus compared God to an earthly father, saying if someone had a hungry child, would one of them give a stone instead of bread? Presumably the answer was no because he went on to say "if you being evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in Heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him?" (Matthew 7:7-11). And going a step beyond that, we are only able to truly love God and love our fellows when we are assured that God loves us. (I think I'll leave off with that verse, since it's one of the most comforting passages in the Bible to me)

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us, and his love is perfected in us. By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. And we have seen and do testify that the Father has sent his Son as the Savior of the world. 15 God abides in those who confess that Jesus is the Son of God, and they abide in God. So we have known and believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us. Those who say, “I love God,” and hate a brother or sister are liars, for those who do not love a brother or sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also.

I pray that God will reassure you of His steadfast love for you, it's so much stronger than any voice that would try to contain it. Please feel free to reach out again if you're feeling anxious.

#asks #Christianity

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rpbetter · 3 years

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PTSD or C-PTSD?

Hopefully, you’re not one of the muns out there who has slapped a “PTSD” label on your muse(s) for drama only. You are, instead, treating this topic with respect and the realism that comes with that, not only having it accurately impact your muse when it’s convenient and “fun” for you. Well, that respect and realism includes actually knowing and applying the correct diagnosis and symptoms as well.

In your defense, if you have misdiagnosed your muse, common terminology in media and even among trauma sufferers is often just the blanket-statement of PTSD. Also, as the abbreviations imply, they do have things in common.

To help, I’m going to break down their differences and similarities, then provide some research links including personal accounts to help you get started.

PTSD

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder most often comes from a single traumatic event.

What can be a traumatic event can differ widely, and reasonably so; we’re not all the same person, processing events and emotions the same way, or with the same formative life experiences. What might cause PTSD to develop in one person might be processed by another as a frightening or painful incident, but not one that has left them with PTSD. The symptoms, individual, and incident have to all be taken into account.

That being said, some examples would include:

having a severe accident

being mugged or in a store that is robbed

physical or sexual assault

being involved in a shooting, in any way

death of a loved one

an unexpected explosion or sudden, natural event like a mudslide or tornado

a severe natural or man-made disaster (building collapse, mass flooding)

events outside of oneself like witnessing a violent assault, murder, deadly car accidents, terminal illness or injury

Again, it is important to remember that individuals react in individual ways, and as such, their symptoms can express with some variation. Don’t just mimic the same presentations you’ve seen in media, research a variety of real experiences.

However they manifest, key symptoms of PTSD include:

Re experiencing the event by way of nightmares, flashbacks, and repetitive, intrusive, and intensely upsetting images, thoughts, and sensations. This is the most common symptom of PTSD, in which the person involuntarily and vividly relives the trauma.

Avoidance and emotional numbing, going to extremes to avoid not just potential triggers, but also finding any way possible to push memories of the event out of their minds. When the latter occurs and is extreme, the person is trying to feel nothing at all, seeking a path to emotional numbness. That can include substance use and abuse, self-harming, and other harmful behaviors.

Feeling on edge (”Hyperarousal”) is the ultimate inability to relax, constantly looking for threats, perceiving threats that are not to be found, and being easily startled. Some of the common issues with being locked into this state include difficulty sleeping or even insomnia, severe irritability and irrational seeming aggression, angry or aggressive outbursts, and finding concentration difficult to impossible.

Some other things that might develop with PTSD are:

Other mental health concerns like anxiety, depression, and/or phobias

as said above, harmful behaviors like self-harming and substance abuse

physical symptoms like headaches, stomach and digestive upsets, dizziness, and generalized pain

Like all disorders, PTSD is complex. I, again, implore you to research not only information put out by psychiatric professionals but also the experiences of real people.

C-PTSD

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder occurs when a person experiences repeated, consistent trauma, especially at an early age.

That doesn’t mean that adults cannot and do not develop C-PTSD, they do, and for a variety of reasons; adult sufferers have the same points of origin in the diagnosis as children do. Additionally, it may take years for someone to seek help, feel their symptoms are severe enough to need to, or be able to extricate themselves from the situation in order to receive help of any kind. They may be an adult by the time this happens.

The important thing to remember about C-PTSD is that it isn’t a single traumatic incident, and you are more likely to have this form of PTSD if the trauma occurred early in life, it was inflicted by someone close to you, and/or was inflicted by someone you still see on a regular basis.

Some good examples to give you the idea include:

ongoing domestic violence

child abuse and/or neglect

being raised by a parent with a severe disorder like Narcissistic Personality Disorder

repeatedly witnessing violence or abuse

torture

kidnapping

being a part of a cult

being a victim of human trafficking or slavery

It isn’t “complex” because it is always across the board “more severe.” This isn’t simply “even worse PTSD,” and shouldn’t be treated like that. Its source is more complex, the development and embedded varieties of its impact are, and the ongoing treatment is.

Particularly when C-PTSD occurs in childhood, there are lasting effects on a person’s development. They have developed in an environment that constantly has them highly stressed both physically and psychologically, and in which they learn many ways of coping, lessening or negating harm, and so on, that leave them less than optimally functional and integrated in life outside the situation.

While the person has the symptoms of PTSD, they will additionally exhibit:

difficulty developing and/or maintaining relationships of any sort

intense, consistent feelings of worthlessness, shame, and guilt

problems managing and even understanding their own emotions

suicidal thoughts

dissociation

increased risk-taking behaviors

Those who have had their actual development rerouted to deal with the situations that generate C-PTSD have a higher incidence of physical symptoms, suicide, self-harm, substance abuse, and are at higher risk of repeat victimization.

They might go for some time without realizing that their daily experiences are neither the norm nor something sustainable, or how atypical their traumatic experiences were compared to those around them. It can sometimes take a serious life-event (suicide attempt, drug rehab, losing too many jobs, homelessness, or finding themselves in a genuine, loving relationship) for them to fully recognize something is wrong, and even then, their feelings of worthlessness, ingrained lack of self-confidence, and belief that they don’t deserve any better can prevent them from seeking help outside of themselves.

They may also believe that something is just “wrong” with them, that they are innately messed up, or that they have a different mental illness. And the unwillingness to open up to people, relieve events, etc. can additionally leave them unwilling to seek or continue care when they believe they have a different, underlying problem. Again, choosing to deal with this themselves through self-isolating, self-medicating, and seeking only relationships and jobs that will work within the framework of the disorder as it effects them.

Additionally, many sufferers of both C-PTSD and PTSD experience the same sense of societal shaming surrounding mental illness. They may struggle with denial, and refuse to seek assistance due to the stigma and all it entails.

Shared aspects of PTSD and C-PTSD

They’re both, obviously, severe, life-altering trauma experiences and resultant disorders. They both easily make the sufferer feel like the trauma and disorder is impossible or undesirable for others to deal with, that they are not worthy of being in close relationships, among many other similarities in experience living with either disorder regardless of widely varying traumas.

They share psychological and physical impacts, and there is a lot of overlap.

The core symptoms of PTSD are shared with C-PTSD:

relieving the trauma(s)

avoiding and emotional numbing

hyperarousal

The shared physical symptoms can include:

headaches

nausea, stomach ache, and digestive upsets

difficulty sleeping and insomnia

sweating, clamminess

chest pain and difficulty breathing

manifestations of low-grade to severe pain

dizziness

Shared behaviors can include:

difficulty concentrating to outright dissociating

self-harm

substance abuse

being hyper-vigilant, easily startled

may seem to be over-reactive to/in situations that others are perceiving as normal or not that big of a deal due to lower perception of personal emotions and lower emotional regulation

including explosive anger or defensiveness

development of anxiety and depression disorders, the symptoms thereof

Again, both PTSD and C-PTSD are serious disorders caused by trauma, and they both need to be treated with respect and accuracy when written into a character - be that an OC or a canon character. It is unfortunate, but these symptoms and the realities of life with either disorder are often portrayed badly in wider media, and the RPC often imitates what it sees.

PTSD and C-PTSD, like the incidents of trauma that created them (rape, child abuse, domestic violence, miscarriage, etc.), are not a plot-point, other point of interest, or a character trait, let alone a “character flaw.” They’re not something you only bring up for attention, to get your muse out of a bad spot, or to add dramatics when you’re bored in a thread. Neither are they something you need to attach to your muse simply to give them A Label. These are, I cannot stress this enough, serious topics, and they deserve to be treated that way.

You can do that by defining which variety of PTSD your muse may actually have, then adding research of both the disorder and how it impacts a variety of real people. Making your muse more realistic and being dedicated to sticking with it.

Below are some links to get you started on research! Please note, the real stories, as well as some information, may be graphic or triggering. Read responsibly.

C-PTSD

Out of the Storm - Personal Stories of C-PTSD

-Contains real stories from those with Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Their experiences have a huge range; bullying, childhood neglect and abuse, and sexual abuse and assault.

I Have Post-Traumatic Stress and Didn’t Know It - and You Might, Too

-Personal story of living, unknowingly, with C-PTSD. An especially great read for writers who have muses who hold a lot of responsibility in their daily lives, who may not realize their experiences are C-PTSD related, etc. Contains discussion of parental emotional abuse, mental illness and childhood trauma, and rape.

What is C-PTSD?

-Excellent resource for detailed breakdowns of C-PTSD giving without a clinical, impersonal tone. The definitions of the disorder itself, symptoms and how it manifests and impacts daily life, and much more. A highly recommended source, and one with further resources on-site.

11 “Habits” of People Living with C-PTSD

-Short breakdown of C-PTSD, followed by snippets of specific experiences in the words of those living with the disorder, a relatively short article.

PTSD

Rebecca’s Story: Living with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

-Personal story of a woman living with PTSD from, in short, being stalked by a co-worker. It’s an excellent article, particularly for how mental illnesses sufferers are treated and portrayed, and how that adds another layer of difficulty to their lives. Obviously, this may be triggering to those who have been stalked, and includes mentions of graphic threats.

My experience of PTSD

-A personal story of medical trauma resulting in PTSD. Many of the PTSD stories you’ll find are from women and involve sexual trauma or harassment, in trying to find a variety of stories, I’ve found this one. By this point, you should be noticing many similarities in these stories, regardless of specific trauma.

Leaving the Battlefield: Soldier Shares Story of PTSD

-So many muses experience PTSD through battle-related incidents, and those depictions are not always accurate in media. This is a personal story about one soldier’s experiences. His perception of PTSD, denial, and shame at having the disorder is something that echoes throughout the previous accounts. So do the similarities of daily struggles to maintain to regular life. Before anyone wants to get Tumblr Nasty about it: there isn’t any “war propaganda” present in this story, the location of it is irrelevant to what you’re supposed to be learning here. It’s literally this man’s experience, don’t.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

-Breakdown of symptoms and causes from Mayo Clinic, so obviously, this is more clinical-minded. Particularly useful for its lists of things like “symptoms of negative changes in thinking and mood” and increased risk-factor for other disorders.

I hope this helps you to assess and write more accurately your muses with C-PTSD or PTSD, and to consider these things more fully when having your muse experience a traumatic event in your plots.

-------

Please, remember when you are reading these accounts, and anywhere you might encounter PTSD sufferers; these are REAL PEOPLE. Treat them and their stories with respect. You’ll note that, unlike other posts on this blog, I didn’t advise you to approach the source. Many trauma sufferers won’t be comfortable sharing their experiences for the sake of your creative hobby. You may, at your respectful discretion, discuss this with close friends you know to be impacted by PTSD, just keep in mind that respect, discretion, and only bringing the topic up when they are comfortable with it, with specific questions, is necessary here. These are not fictional characters! Do not write someone’s real experiences into your character, thread, etc. verbatim, that’s...fucked up. Thanks in advance for being responsible, respectful adults, from a real life PTSD sufferer. -Vespertine

#rp help #rp advice #muse development #character development #writing advice #muses with ptsd #muses with cptsd #cptsd and ptsd post #muse inspiration #diverse muses #neurodiverse characters #rp better

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soundsfaebutokay · 3 years

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youtube

So I've recc'd this video before, but it deserves its own post because it's one of my favorite things on youtube. It's a Tedx Talk by comics writer, editor, and journalist Jay Edidin, and I really think that it will connect with a lot of people here.

If you live and breathe stories of all kinds, you might like this.

If you care about media representation, you might like this.

If you're neurodivergent, you might like this.

If you're interested in a gender transition story that veers from the norm, you might like this.

If you love the original Leverage and especially Parker, and understand how important it is that a character like her exists, you will definitely like this.

Transcript below the cut:

You Are Here: The Cartography of Stories

by Jay Edidin

I am autistic. And what this means in practice is that there are some things that are easier for me than they are for most people, and a great many things that are somewhat harder, and these affect my life in more or less overt ways. As it goes, I'm pretty lucky. I've been able to build a career around special interests and granular obsession. My main gig at the moment is explaining superhero comics continuity and publishing history for which work I am somehow paid in actual legal currency—which is both a triumph of the frivolous in an era of the frantically pragmatic, and a job that's really singularly suited to my strengths and also to my idiosyncrasies.

I like comics. I like stories in general, because they make sense to me in ways that the rest of the world and my own mind often don't. Self-knowledge is not an intuitive thing for me. What sense of self I have, I've built gradually and laboriously and mostly through long-term pattern recognition. For decades, I didn't even really have a self-image. If you'd asked me to draw myself, I would eventually have given you a pair of glasses and maybe a very messy scribble of hair, and that would've been about it. But what I do know—backwards, forwards, and in pretty much every way that matters—are stories. I know how they work. I understand their language, their complex inner clockwork, and I can use those things to extrapolate a sort of external compass that picks up where my internal one falls short. Stories—their forms, their structure, the sense of order inherent to them—give me the means to navigate what otherwise, at least for me, would be an impassable storm of unparsable data. Or stories are a periscope, angled to access the parts of myself I can't intuitively see. Or stories are a series of mirrors by which I can assemble a composite sketch of an identity I rarely recognize whole...which is how I worked out that I was transgender, in my early thirties, by way of a television show.

This is my story. And it's about narrative cartography, and representation, and why those things matter. It's about autism and it's about gender and it's about how they intersect. And it's about the kinds of people we know how to see, and the kinds of people we don't. It's not the kind of story that gets told a lot, you might hear a lot, because the narrative around gender transition and dysphoria in our culture is really, really prescriptive. It's basically the story of the kid who has known for their whole life that they're this and not that, and that story demands the kind of intuitive self-knowledge that I can't really do, and a kind of relationship to gender that I don't really have—which is part of why it took me so long to figure my own stuff out.

So, to what extent this story, my story has a beginning, it begins early in 2014 when I published an essay titled, "I See Your Value Now: Asperger's and the Art of Allegory." And it explored, among other things, the ways that I use narrative and narrative structures to navigate real life. And it got picked up in a number of fairly prominent places that got linked, and I casually followed the ensuing discussion. And I was surprised to discover that readers were fairly consistently assuming I was a man. Now, that in itself wasn't a new experience for me, even though at the time I was writing under a very unambiguously female byline. It had happened in the letter columns of comics I'd edited. It had happened when a parody Twitter account I'd created went viral. When I was on staff at Wired, I budgeted for fancy scotch by putting a dollar in a box every time a reader responded in a way that made it clear they were assuming I was a man in response to an article where my name was clearly visible, and then I had to stop doing that because it happened so often I couldn't afford to keep it up. But in all of those cases, the context, you know, the reasons were pretty obvious. The fields I'd worked in, the beats I covered, they were places where women had had to fight disproportionally hard for visibility and recognition. We live in a culture that assumes a male default, so given a neutral voice and a character limit, most readers will assume a male author.

But this was different, because this wasn't just a book I'd edited, it wasn't a story I'd reported—it was me, it was my story. And it made me uncomfortable, got under my skin in ways that the other stuff really hadn't. And so I did what I do when that happens, and I tried to sort of reverse-engineer it to look at the conclusions and peel them back to see the narratives behind them and the stories that made them tick. And I started this, I started this by going back to the text of the essay, and you know, examining it every way I could think of: looking at craft, looking at content. And in doing so, I was surprised to realize that while I had written about a number of characters with whom I identified closely, that every single one of those characters I'd written about was male. And that surprised me even more than the responses to the essay had, because I've spent my career writing and talking and thinking about gender and representation in popular media. In 2014, I'd been the feminist gadfly of an editorial department and multiple mastheads. I'd been a founding board member of an organization that existed to advocate for more and better representation of women and girls in comics characters and creators. And most of my favorite characters, the ones I'd actively seek out and follow, were women. Just not, apparently, the characters I saw myself in.

Now I still didn't realize it was me at this point. Remember: self-knowledge, not very intuitive for me. And while I had spent a lot of time thinking about gender, I'd never really bothered to think much about my own. I knew academically that the way other people read and interpreted my gender affected and had influenced a lifetime of social and professional interactions, and that those in turn had informed the person I'd grown up into during that time. But I really believed, like I just sort of had in the back of my head, that if you peeled away all of that social conditioning, you'd basically end up with what I got when I tried to draw a self-portrait. So: a pair of glasses, messy scribble of hair, and in this case, maybe also some very strong opinions about the X-Men. I mean, I knew something was off. I'd always known something was off, that my relationship to gender was messy and uncomfortable, but gender itself struck me as messy and uncomfortable, and it had never been a large enough part of how I defined myself to really feel like something that merited further study, and I had deadlines, and...so it was always on the back burner. So, I looked, I looked at what I had, at this improbable group of exclusively male characters. And I looked and I figured that if this wasn't me, then it had to be a result of the stories I had access to, to choose from, and the entertainment landscape I was looking at. And the funny thing is, I wasn't wrong, exactly. I just wasn't right either.

See, the characters I'd written about had one other significant trait in common aside from their gender, which is that they were all more or less explicitly, more or less heavily coded as autistic. And I thought, "Ah, yes. This explains it. This is under representation in fiction echoing under representation in life and vice versa." Because the characteristics that I'd honed in on, that I particularly identified with in these guys, were things like emotional unavailability and social awkwardness and granular obsession, and all of those are characteristics that are seen as unsympathetic and therefore unmarketable in female characters. Which is also why readers were assuming that I was a man.

Because, you see, here's the thing. I'm not the only one who uses stories to navigate the world. I'm just a little more deliberate about it. For humans, stories formed the bridge between data and understanding. They're where we look when we need to contextualize something new, or to recognize something we're pretty sure we've seen before. They're how we identify ourselves; they're how we locate ourselves and each other in the larger world. There were no fictional women like me; there weren't representations of women like me in media, and so readers were primed not to recognize women like me in real life either.

Now by this point, I had started writing a follow-up essay, and this one was also about autism and narratives, but specifically focused on how they intersected with gender and representation in media. And in context of this essay, I went about looking to see if I could find even one female character who had that cluster of traits I'd been looking for, and I was asking around in autistic communities. And I got a few more or less useful one-off suggestions, and some really, really splendid arguments about semantics and standards, and um...then I got one answer over and over and over in community after community after community. "Leverage," people told me. "You have to watch Leverage."

So I watched Leverage. Leverage is five seasons of ensemble heist drama. It's about a team of very skilled con artists who take down corrupt and powerful plutocrats and the like, and it's a lot of fun, and it's very clever, and it's clever enough that it doesn't really matter that it's pretty formulaic, and I enjoyed it a lot. But what's most important, what Leverage has is Parker.

Parker is a master thief, and she is the best of the best of the best in ways that all of Leverage's characters are the best of the best. And superficially, she looks like the kind of woman you see on TV. So she's young, and she's slender, and she's blonde, and she's attractive but in a sort of approachable way. And all of that familiarity is brilliant misdirection, because the thing is, there are no other women like Parker on TV. Because Parker—even if it's never explicitly stated in the show—Parker is coded incredibly clearly as autistic. Parker is socially awkward. Her speech tends to have limited inflection; what inflection it does have is repetitive and sounds rehearsed a lot of the time. She's not emotionally literate; she struggles with it, and the social skills she develops over the series, she learns by rote, like they're just another grift. When she's not scaling skyscrapers or cartwheeling through laser grids, she wears her body like an ill-fitting suit. Parker moves like me. And Parker, Parker was a revelation—she was a revolution unto herself. In a media landscape where unempathetic women usually exist to either be punished or "loved whole," Parker got to play the crabby savant. And she wasn't emotionally intuitive but it was never ever played as the product of abuse or trauma even though she had survived both of those—it was just part of her, as much as were her hands or her eyes. And she had a genuine character arc. My god, she had a genuine romantic arc, even. And none of that required her to turn into anything other than what she was. And in Parker I recognized a thousand tics and details of my life and my personality...but. I didn't recognize myself.

Why? What difference was there in Parker, you know, between Parker and the other characters I'd written about? Those characters, they'd spanned ethnicities and backgrounds and different media and appearances and the only other characteristic they all had in common was their gender. So that was where I started to look next, and I thought, "Well, okay, maybe, maybe it's masculinity. Maybe if Parker were less feminine, she'd click with me the way those other characters had." So then I tried to imagine a Parker with short hair, who's explicitly butch, and...nothing. So okay, I extended it in what seems like the only logical direction to extend it. I said, "Well, if it's not masculinity, what if it's actual maleness? What if Parker were a man?" Ah. Yeah.

In the end, everything changed, and nothing changed, which is often the way that it goes for me. Add a landmark, no matter how slight, and the map is irrevocably altered. Add a landmark, and paths that were invisible before open wide. Add a landmark, and you may not have moved, but suddenly you know where you are and where you can go.

I wasn't going to tell this story when I started planning this talk. I was gonna tell a similar story, it was about stories, like this is, about narratives and the ways that they influence our culture and vice versa. And it centered around a group of women at NASA who had basically rewritten the narrative around space exploration, and it was a lot more fun, and I still think it was more interesting. But it's also a story you can probably work out for yourselves. In fact it's a story some of you probably have, if you follow that kind of thing, which you probably do given that you're here. And this is a story, my story is not a story that I like to tell. It's not a fun story to talk about because it's very personal and I am a very private person. And it's not universal. And it's not always relatable, and it's definitely not aspirational. And it's not the kind of story that you tend to encounter unless you're already part of it...which is why I'm telling it now. Because the thing is, I'm not the only person who uses stories to parse the world and navigate it. I'm just a little more deliberate. Because I'm tired of having to rely on composite sketches.

Open your maps. Add a landmark. Reroute accordingly.

#Jay Edidin #LGBTQ #autism #mind and body #gender norms #why humans need stories #Leverage #Parker #Abby posts Leverage #my faves #Youtube #I did my best with the transcript #sorry for any mistakes

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inuyashaha · 3 years

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Yashahime Episode 15

I think so many of my feelings and observations have been stated by others at this point, but here go my rambling thoughts anyway.

First the negative: It was an oddly structured episode. The introduction threw us straight into the past, very, very briefly framed by Riku as the narrator. Did Riku break the fourth wall or were we to assume a listener we did not see? I’m still not sure. So much information was thrown at the audience that it did not feel like there was enough times to savor the emotions of the moments ... very very important moments that showed us Inuyasha and Kagome’s home and married dynamic, pregnant Kagome, RIN HAVING HER BABIES with Kaede, Sango and Kagome being there (I LOVED that), Sesshomaru taking his babies...I’m willing to wait and assume this rushed narrative is on purpose, but it was a little jarring.

Now the good:

Rin is the mommy! I knew that. I was convinced on August 1st during the livestream, but it was a sweet (if all too brief) moment. Mamiko Noto’s voice as Rin was so perfect. It was sweet, but it was subdued. It was the voice of a someone who had just birthed twins and knows something awful is about to go down. To hear her name the babies was a beautiful moment, and how sweet were baby Towa and Setsuna. Towa looked a little grumpy/sleepy, but baby Setsuna was already smiling :). I do think they will show that Setsuna, deep down, is a smiling sweet girl like her mother and that circumstances made her like she is. It also makes me think that we have only seen one side of Towa -- we haven’t really seen what she has inherited from Sesshomaru -- yet.

I loved that all of Rin’s friends surrounded her and helped her have her babies. The twins hurrying to get Kaede, Sango going for Kagome...it was a community event! But seriously, to know that if only for a short while, Rin got to be surrounded by love and peace with her babies by her side makes the bitterness of Sesshomaru taking the babies so quickly afterwards a little easier to bear. Just a little. Sango the experienced mom. Kaede the midwife. Rin the new mom. Kagome the expectant mom. Imagine the conversations and bonding. Their kids should have grown up together :(.

And I am going to speculate, until the show proves me wrong, that Rin probably had her own hut and continued to live in the village after she married Sesshomaru, or at least after she got pregnant. The fact that the twins came to get Kaede at night makes me think that she was not in Kaede’s hut. Wouldn’t Kaede be at her own place at night?

Like Inuyasha and Kagome, I think Rin and Sesshomaru had their own place:

This looks different from Kaede’s hut. I don’t remember the little pathway on the left, but it’s impossible to tell if they are next to the gate here. Again, I’m choosing to believe they had their own place.

So, this makes me consider how much Sesshomaru really did settle down for Rin. He gave up his titles. He did not take her to a castle in the air. He let her stay among her friends and start a family WITH HIM but still within the village. He gave her the best of both worlds. He MARRIED her. How many times was she called his wife or bride? She’s no concubine or human piece on the side. He MARRIED her. Since he had not seen his mother in a while, I’m assuming he married her in her village, letting everyone know she wasn’t just some poor village girl taken advantage of by the powerful yokai. And it clearly wasn’t just a human marriage. All the big bad demons called Rin Sesshomaru’s wife. What honor, respect and love he showed to her, a mere human peasant (though of course we all know she is so much more than that, especially to Sesshomaru).

Was he like many lords and installed her in her own home, visiting and staying with her when he did not have business to attend to? Or did he tell Inuyasha that he better get used to having another demon hanging out in his forest by the village? Like...for all intents and purpose, Sesshomaru may have been living in the same village as Inuyasha, both intending to raise their families together. I love that. Please Yashahime, don’t dissuade me of this.

Poor Sesshomaru...sigh...I know it doesn’t look great for him right now...but that will change. The story is not going to make him the villain. It’s just not. But yes, poor Sesshomaru. He got to be happy about his babies being born for all of about two seconds before Zero interrupted him. Look at his little smile while he listens to his daughters’ first cries:

He had his worried face on, and then he smiled. He’s a dad in the waiting room. And the TONE of Jaken’s voice when he declared that they had been born. The WARMTH, the LOVE. Grandpa Jaken I love you so much.

This bitch, though, I don’t love at all:

Does she have some kind of magic yokai ultrasound that lets her know Sesshomaru had twin daughters and predicted Kagome would have a daughter? I look forward to seeing how this all unravels, but the fact that she showed up IMMEDIATELY after the girls were born is frightening, and maybe that was why Sesshomaru was at the outskirts of the village instead of closer by? Clearly, they were expecting some kind of attack, but dang...that happened fast.

Who is this lady anyway? I’ve seen it speculated that it may be Riku’s mother...and yes? I could see that. Did she have a hanyou she was not allowed to keep, poor Riku tossed overboard, and now she seeks revenge? Or was she rejected by Toga? Those tears of hers. Who was she crying for?

As many others noticed, this was a little odd:

What about Sesshomaru’s mother? He hasn’t seen her in years (such a bad son), and when they go to her castle, she’s missing. Was she just off doing flying dog stuff in the sky? Was she shopping for expensive jewelry and designer silks? I’m assuming she was not at Sesshomaru’s wedding. Or did Zero do something to her and Sesshomaru just wasn’t aware? I’m dying to see more of Sesshomaru’s mom. I want her to meet the twins and just throw out her arms all, “Come to Grandma! Let me buy you things and tell you stories about your dad.” But that remains to be seen.

Speaking of grandparents, can I say yet again that I love the honorary grandparents Kaede and Jaken, both trying to protect Rin in their own way. Kaede doesn’t hold back and calls Sesshomaru a fool (imagine what she was like when Sesshomaru was truly courting Rin) while Jaken comforts Rin when her babies are taken away. Again, the voice acting by Jaken’s VA is EVERYTHING in this episode. The LOVE he conveys. He’s perfect. I love him. I do.

And Rin knew the plan. She knew what was going to happen, but poor thing...I wish it could have been different for her. Look how much she loves and trusts Sesshomaru. That expression clearly says “Look what I made! Look what WE made!” I wish we could have seen them react to the babies together.

Also, look at how Sango is about THISCLOSE to putting on her slayer clothes and kicking Sesshomaru’s ass when he scooped up those babies and turned away:

The rest of the episode was such a jumble of events. Sesshomaru AND Jaken were with Inuyasha and Kagome when the comet arrived, which was after the twins’ birth but before Moroha’s. Even if they are hanyo, I don’t think Jaken and Sesshomaru would have left newborn babies alone. Rin was with them. Jaken even said he was bringing Rin to them (I assume after she recovered from birthing twins). Further supporting this would be the dream gazing spell business -- Like others have said, I’m pretty sure Rin sacrificed herself to keep her remaining daughter safe after Towa was pulled into the future.

Miscellaneous observations:

1. What the hell is going on with the comet? Every 500 years? So, the Higurashis might be in for a surprise pretty soon? Comet remnants are still in the sky though...

2. Why in the hell did Inuyasha bring his pregnant wife along for the comet destruction? Why exactly was she there? Unless he was too worried about her safety to leave her behind?

3. Riku is one shady fellow. HE found the compact? How did he know where to look? I know, I know. Don’t be hasty, but c’mon. We don’t have that many episodes left.

4. I like how they portrayed a pregnant Kagome. I like this little side view where you can see she’s chunky, but it’s not an exaggerated thing:

5. Sesshomaru and Rin had babies before Inuyasha and Kagome! On one level, it is very sweet. Of anyone, Rin and Sesshomaru are very aware of the fragility of life and how fleeting time is. Look at the names of their daughters. It makes sense that they wanted a family quickly. On the other hand, I cannot shake the idea that the brothers did get competitive with each other. I can imagine Inuyasha knocking up Kagome as quickly as possible after finding out that Rin was pregnant. Then Sesshomaru has TWO daughters to Inuyasha’s one. I am longing for some brotherly interactions. Let Inuyasha call him a hypocrite at least once. Let Sesshomaru gloat that he has TWO super awesome daughters. Let the daughters watch their ridiculous fathers fist fight while their mothers pour water on them and tell them to SIT. Please.

6. Besides emphasizing the fact that Rin is Sesshomaru’s WIFE, the episode also emphasized the fact that Rin actually birthed the girls. Rin is in labor, it will be soon, you did well, Rin, Rin resting in bed with her daugthers, her voice weak and tired, the tub used to wash the babies in the background. There was no magic switcheroo. The twins were not found beneath a tree. Sesshomaru did not sprout them from a forgotten limb. They came out of Rin’s body. She’s the mom. She made them with her husband. End of.

6. Finally, this is the best part of the episode.

You sure did, Rin.

Now where are A-Un and Shippo?

#yashahime #yashahime episode 15 #yashahime spoilers #sessrin #rin #sesshomaru #towa #setsuna #jaken

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 4 years

Text

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 15 of 27: Fireworks

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHOOSE ME INSTEAD MASTERLIST

A/N: I was feeling sick for the past few days that’s why this chapter is a little late. Love you all so much for your amazing feedback and support! I hope you’ll like the chapter! <33

Words: 4.1k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader, post-war Warnings: none

Whispers in a dark room, soft touches, kisses all over your bodies; a laugh so bright and full of life, it made his heart ache. Clothes on the floor, candles lit on the nightstand, your perfume lingering in the air. The way, he ran his fingers through your air; the sound of your heartbeat underneath your skin.

Draco’s mind kept wandering back to the moments in the hotel room. Every fiber of his body wanted to go back, wanted to feel close to you again. He hadn’t realized how starved he was for human connection until your lips found his.

“Draco!”

Draco flinched and almost dropped his knife, when his mother called his name sharply. Narzissa Malfoy sat across the table, sending him a warning look.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” he mumbled. “I was …”

“Dreaming,” she finished his sentence. “You’ve been distracted all day, Draco. It’s impolite to our guests.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Narzissa,” Mrs. Greengrass chirped. “Astoria is just as quiet today. Who can blame them, really? They don’t care about our gossip.” When she laughed, Draco noticed that her eyes grew so small, they were hardly visible anymore. It made him wonder where her daughters got their beauty from. It certainly didn’t come from their mother.

He looked to his side where Astoria absently stared at her table. She had barely touched the food yet. Something seemed to bother her.

Narzissa had invited Mrs. Greengrass and Astoria for lunch today. “Just to catch up,” she had said to her son. However, he knew that wasn’t the full truth. His mother was worried. Very worried.

In the beginning, she had believed dating a Gryffindor was just an excuse for Draco. A way to postpone the engagement a little longer. Those games happened more often than anyone would like to admit but she knew quite a few similar stories. However, after the holidays and after seeing him for the first time since the school year started – she had noticed something. A change in him. Small and tiny, like a daisy trying to grow in the cracks of old pavement, but it was there. And it kept on growing.

Draco had smiled when he came home – and when Narzissa asked him about you, there was a spark in his eyes and happiness in his voice. It left her wondering if the whole relationship thing wasn’t an excuse after all.

Narzissa wanted Draco to be happy, of course. He was her only son, her pride and joy, the love of her life. He had to endure so much pain and suffering in his young life and a lot of it was undoubtedly caused by her husband and herself. A fact that broke her heart and filled her with guilt, every time she looked at Draco. So what kind of mother would she be if she didn’t wish for Draco to find his way back to life and for him to be with someone who offered him the peace and stability he so desperately craved?

However … she was still a Malfoy – and a Black. And your family? Despite being Purebloods and also quite comfortable in their ways of living, they were different. She had experienced this first hand when they came to the Manor two years ago, demanding to know the whereabouts of their other daughter. No, after the scene that unfolded that afternoon, Narzissa highly doubted that a union of their families would bring anything other than chaos. It would be as if Draco tried to marry into the Weasley family. Not at all suitable for a man from his background.

But a marriage with a Greengrass? In Narzissas mind, it would be truly perfect. They had so many similarities – growing up in the same circles, living in the same Hogwarts house, sharing friends and values. Perfect, Narzissa had thought when Mrs. Greengrass asked her about a potential engagement between their children. And in a very self-centered way, she also realized that this would get her family back their former reputation. It would mean money and status and another chance at the life she had lost after the war. Draco just needed to marry Astoria. It wasn’t too much to ask. After all, Narzissa didn’t love Lucius when they got engaged – the feelings grew over time. Surely, it would be the same for Draco and she was certain that he would be happy with Astoria. There was nothing wrong with arranged marriages – they were practiced among pureblood families for centuries. So why break that tradition now, in a moment, where the Malfoys needed it the most?

When Draco came home after Christmas and spoke about you, Narzissa knew instantly that it was time to act. He didn’t realize it yet, but Narzissa saw it – if she didn’t put a stop to it now, Draco would soon know that his feelings succeeded the ones of a teenage crush. Under no circumstances could he find out, that what he felt – under all the confusion – was love. Luckily (at least for her in this exact moment), her son was an expert at swallowing down his true feelings and pushing others away. So there was still hope for Narzissa. He simply needed to spend more time with Astoria to realize that the future of his family was more important than you.

As a start, she had invited Mrs. Greengrass and Astoria over for lunch. Afterwards, Narzissa planned on going on a long walk with Mrs. Greengrass, leaving their children alone together. Now, she looked at the faces of the two of them, bored and distracted, and decided that maybe sooner would be better than later.

“How about,” she turned to Mrs. Greengrass, “we go for a walk and let these two catch up.”

Draco frowned. “We’re not done eating yet. Isn’t there des –”

„It’s alright, I’m not that hungry,” Mrs. Greengrass interrupted him. She had picked up on Narzissas undertone. The two women stood up, gracefully as always, and smiled at their children.

“You spent the whole morning talking about how you looked forward to this lunch, mum,” Astoria pointed out, barely hiding her annoyance.

Her mother laughed. “Nonsense, honey.” She put her hand to her daughter’s cheek. “Have fun, you two.”

When the door fell shut behind their mothers, Draco snorted and shook his head. Astoria stayed quiet. Her eyes were back on the plate. She still hadn’t touched the food.

“You don’t like it?”, Draco asked.

“Would you be offended if I said no?”, she asked dryly.

“Slighty,” he raised an eyebrow, “mainly because I know from first-hand experience that our house elves cook better than yours.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “Because for everything the Greengrasses have to offer, you find something better.”

Draco stopped his fork right in front of his mouth. Lowering it, he turned to look at her. “That took a conversational left turn.”

The black-haired woman simply stared at her plate, clenching her teeth.

Draco sighed. He sensed where this was going. “Just say it, Astoria.”

Finally, she reacted. With a little too much force, she slammed her fork down. “I said it,” she tried to keep her voice calm and steady. “Time and time again. Quite frankly, I’m tired of repeating myself.”

“Is this about Y/N again?”

“No!”, she spat. All gone was the attempt of acting calm. “Not everything is about that –”

“Careful,” Draco warned her and leaned back against the chair.

She raised her hand but then took a deep breath. “Not everything is about her.”

He waited for Astoria to keep talking – but she didn’t. Oh, how tired he was of having the same discussions with her all over again. “Then what’s your problem today?”

“You’re an asshole,” she snarled.

He shrugged. It was probably true.

Astoria shifted in her seat and for the first time, since they had sat down to eat, did she look at him. He saw the anger and frustration in her eyes.

“Why don’t you want to marry me?”, she asked.

The question – and the confidence she asked it with – took him off guard. Draco frowned. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s clear that you don’t. I’m asking you why.”

Because I don’t want to end up like my parents, was the first thought that popped in his head. It surprised him. He loved his parents and had spent most of his life looking up to them – but the thought of entering the same lives as they did over twenty years ago … It scared him. A young marriage to someone he didn’t love, being surrounded by people like them, raising kids in an environment as hateful and strict as the one he grew up in … He didn’t want that.

It wouldn’t be that way with you.

He swallowed at the new thought, wondering where it came from. Well, obviously, spending so much time with you in a literal “What if?”-scenario, would give him all sorts of ideas. Yet, he couldn’t help but think that whoever you chose to spend a life with – you’d be different. The family you started would be different. Your house would be filled with love and laughter and you’d adore and support your family no matter what. He just knew.

As if Astoria had read his mind, she suddenly asked: “What can she offer you that I can’t?”

Everything. And nothing at all.

Draco was irritated at the wording. “Offer me?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “What can she and her family offer you –”

“She doesn’t offer me anything,” he clarified. “Neither does her family. She or you are not something I can buy.”

Astoria groaned and threw her head back. “Oh, Merlin, don’t go all Gryffindor-feminist on me. You know what I mean.”

He did. But he wasn’t keen on explaining to the young Greengrass why he preferred to spend his time with a Gryffindor over her. “I’m not planning on marrying her anytime soon, Astoria,” he said instead, a lot softer now.

“Great,” the sarcasm was dripping from Astorias voice. “Then we can get engaged.”

Draco let out a long breath. “No.”

She crossed her hands in front of her chest. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he burst out. Merlin, why couldn’t she just leave him alone?!

“Why not?”

He wiped his hand over his eyes, suddenly feeling tired and exhausted. “Because I don’t have feelings for you.”

There was a brief moment of silence in which Astoria simply looked at him. Then suddenly the corners of her mouth began to twitch. Before he knew what was happening, she started laughing. It was loud and shrill. “Oh, Draco, that’s adorable,” she managed to get out. “Do you think I have feelings for you?”

Confused, he blinked.

The smile on her face vanished. “You know damn well that marriages in our circles are rarely about feelings.”

Draco shrugged. “Well, they should be.”

“What happened to you, Malfoy? Seriously.”

Again, there was this awkward pause between the two Slytherins. Resentment and frustration hung in the air and Draco wished for his mother to come back right this moment. Looking at Astoria however, a girl so proud and ambitious most of the time, another thought entered his mind. He had wondered about this a few times already.

“I don’t get it,” Draco began. “There are probably dozens of men who would love to marry you. Hell, even Blaise or Theo would say yes to an engagement. Why are you so set on marrying me? Especially if there are no feelings involved?”

Her eyes flickered away. She shifted uncomfortably. “We grew up together, I think you’d be a good fit.”

Draco scoffed. “Yeah, right, and Jesus was a muggle.” He didn’t believe her one bit. “Spill it, Astoria. All I have done for the past months is embarrassing you. Why do you want to marry me so badly?”

She pressed her lips together.

“Are your parents forcing you?”, he continued. “I honestly doubt that your father is thrilled about having me as his son-in-law.”

Astoria rolled her eyes at him. “They’re not.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence. She wouldn’t look at him but this behavior only sparked his curiosity even more.

When she spoke again, her voice was unusually quiet. Almost timid. “I just don’t know what you see in her. She’s not like us.”

That’s exactly it, Draco thought. He didn’t say it though. Instead, he leaned forward and reached for her hand. He stroked over it in a calming manner with his thumb. “Astoria, we’ve been friends for so long now. Just tell me –”

Quickly, she pulled away. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

***

New Year’s Eve …

Draco stood in front of the huge windows, overlooking the dark gardens of the Greengrass estate. It smelled heavily of flowers from all over the world in the greenhouse. The scent would have probably given him a headache if he hadn’t already finished a glass of firewhiskey. In the distance, he could see the lights coming from the big mansion. He saw silhouettes of the guests and wondered if they were really having a good time or if they were just pretending. Like he was.

After returning from the walk, Mrs. Greengrass had announced that Narzissa and Draco needed to join them for the night to celebrate the New Year together. He saw how it hurt his mothers pride to be invited so last minute, however, she accepted with a smile. And now they were here. It wasn’t a big party, just a few of their closest friends. Still, too many people for Dracos taste and so he hid in here.

Looking out at the window, he wondered what you were doing tonight. Since getting back, neither of you had sent a letter. Two nights in the hotel, memories that caused shivers to run down his spine, and a promise that it would mean nothing. It left him unsure of what to do next. How were you spending the night? Were you at a party? Getting drunk with friends, maybe even sharing a kiss with someone when the clock turned twelve?

He gritted his teeth at the though. Stop it, Draco reminded himself. Stop getting attached. You’re not dating, she’s free to do as she pleases.

“We used to play Hide and Seek here,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. “With Daphne. Remember?”

Astoria. He didn’t need to turn around to recognize her voice. “I do,” he nodded, still looking out in the gardens. “You were so bad at it.”

She chuckled. “I know.”

Draco glanced at her. They hadn’t spoken since the lunch earlier today and he had suspected her to still be upset. When she smiled at him however, the smell of wine hit him. Well, this explained her mood.

“I loved this place,” Draco said, knowing it was best not to address her drunken state. He raised the glass of firewhiskey to his lips.

“I know. You fucked Daphne in here.”

The words caused him to choke on his drink. He coughed heavily when he felt the burning liquid running down his throat. With red cheeks and tears in his eyes from the sudden reaction of his body, he turned to face her.

Astoria wasn’t fazed at all. “Didn’t you?”, her voice cheery.

Draco stared at her.

“She told me,” Astoria continued. “Summer before your sixth year.”

“Why are we talking about this?”, he finally asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

She shrugged. “Just popped into my head when I saw you standing here.”

She said it so nonchalantly and looked out of the window – it confused Draco even more. Truthfully, he was also a little shocked by her choice of words. He never heard her talk like that. Never. Draco shook his head and took another sip of his drink.

“What did you see in her?”, she asked innocently.

“In your sister?”

“Yes,” Astoria nodded.

He shook his head again. “Astoria, you’re drunk.”

“No, tell me,” she demanded with more force now and looked at him. Her cheeks were rosy and the hair messy as if she had spent the last hour dancing.

“Nothing, I –,” Draco groaned. “It was a summer fling. We barely dated.”

“But what did you see in her?”, Astoria repeated herself. “You choose everyone but me.”

Oh.

Here we go again. She looked at Draco and for the first time, he noticed something. Maybe it was a product of the alcohol or maybe it was truly because of him: she was hurt. Gone was all the pride and anger. Only sadness and a hint of desperation was left in those jade-green eyes, as she stared up at him.

Because of me?, Draco wondered. Was he the reason for her pain?

Astoria blinked and again, something changed. As if she tried to put on a mask, a smile appeared on her face. “Maybe you could see something in me if we just …” She made a step towards him. Draco backed away. Behind him were only the windows though.

“You’re drunk,” he stated again.

She giggled. “I’m just a little tipsy. It’s okay though …” Another step forward and suddenly she stumbled. Out of instinct, Draco put his arm around her waist to keep her from falling to the ground. She leaned against him now, pressing her petite body against his. He crinkled his nose when the smell of wine hit him again.

“Astoria … don’t,” he said softly.

She reached for the button on his shirt, clumsily trying to open it. Draco tensed up and she stopped. “Why not?”, she asked, tilting her head. In a sick way, it reminded him of the way you would look at him. The difference was, however, that he liked it when you did it.

He released his grip from her and carefully tried to get free of her fumbling hands. “Don’t, no, I can’t deal with this,” he mumbled and successfully took a step to the side.

Seeing her like this, it was a picture of misery. She cleared her throat, her hands shaking slightly. Draco wondered if she suppressed tears and the thought filled him with guilt. It made him choke up. So much guilt for so many things … he didn’t have room in his heart for anymore. He needed to get out of the greenhouse, he wanted to go home. No, not home. To Hogwarts. To you.

He reached for his tie. It was hard for him to breathe all of the sudden. Those fucking flowers, there was no air left for him. When he stumbled backwards, trying to get to the door, Astoria laughed. “Right because you can fuck everyone but me.”

“I ...”, Draco swallowed and right in this moment fireworks went off. Midnight. Outside, the sky was filled with bright colors. Red, orange, yellow, green. It was too much, too loud.

“Happy fucking New Year, Malfoy.”

***

“How much can you possibly fit in this book?”, Blaise asked.

Draco looked up at his question. “It’s not my first one.”

“Oh,” his friend made. “I thought it was a magic book or something.”

Draco shook his head before turning his attention back to the pages, filling them with what happened over the holidays. All the little details, he didn’t want to forget a single day. Well, except for the 31st of December maybe.

Draco, Blaise and Theo were currently sitting in a small section in the Hogwarts Express. They would reach Hogsmeade any minute now. It was snowing heavily outside, making Scotlands landscape resemble the one of a fairytale.

Draco was looking forward to returning to school. At home, he felt like he couldn’t breathe most of the time. Too many memories were left in the walls of the Mansion and seemed to haunt him whenever he wandered the now empty halls. If he were honest with himself, there was one more reason though. You. He’d see you again. For the first time since Christmas.

“I thought about starting one of those,” Theo suddenly admitted.

Draco looked up again, only slightly annoyed at the disturbance. He raised his eyebrows. “You were.”

His friend nodded.

“Why?”, Blaise asked.

Theo shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea. Besides, maybe it helps me get out of the therapy sessions.” He looked at Draco and added with a lot of sarcasm: “Thank your girlfriend for that, by the way.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

Blaise chuckled. “So, they’ve gotten to you.”

Theo nodded.

“It’s not that bad,” Draco said and added when he was met with doubting glances: “Just talk about what she wants and it’ll be over sooner than later.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Theo replied. “What does she want to talk about with me?! I’m fine.”

“Are you?”, Draco asked but it was overheard when Blaise loudly announced: “Maybe she wants to talk about your messed up father.”

“Huh,” Theo made at that statement. He looked out of the window. Draco watched him and just before he could say something else, the train arrived in Hogsmeade. Theo got up abruptly, before they even stopped. “Well, anyways. Let’s go.”

“Hit a nerve there,” Blaise said quietly when Theo stepped out of their section.

Draco shrugged. He truly couldn’t tell how his friend felt. It wasn’t something they talked about, thanks to their Death Eater upbringing. Feelings were something you dealt with yourself and didn’t burden others with. However, he guessed that Theo wasn’t as happy as he pretended to be.

It was freezing cold outside. Thick snowflakes and an icy wind hit his face and Draco was mad at himself for forgetting to get out his scarf from his suitcase. They could hardly see anything and when someone hit them with a snowball, Blaise lost it and hexed a first grader.

“Missed detention so much?”, Draco snarled.

“He deserved it,” his friend replied and ignored the angry shouts of the first graders friends.

They arrived the carriages after what felt like an eternity. Did they magically lengthen the way to them? When Draco climbed inside, he sighed in relief. They were warm and cozy.

“Thank Merlin,” he mumbled and got out his wand to dry off the snow.

Theo and Blaise followed inside. Their eyes flickered only briefly to the Thestrals in front of the carriage. It had been quite a surprise for most of the students to come back in the beginning of the school year and see that the carriages weren’t driving by themselves after all.

Just when Draco made himself a little more comfortable and waited for the Thestrals to start making their way towards the castle, the door opened another time.

“Can I ride with you?”

You. Draco froze when he saw you, smiling at him nervously. You looked adorable in your Gryffindor attire – the hat pulled down over your ears, the red scarf tightly thrown around your neck. Adorable?!, he asked himself. What the hell, Draco.

“Sure,” Theo answered when Draco didn’t reply and changed his seat so that you could sit next to him.

“Thanks!” You climbed inside, lips trembling slightly from the cold outside. Just like he did, moments earlier, you sighed when you realized it was warm inside. You got rid of your hat and gloves, before looking at Draco again. “Hi.”

When Draco saw the smile on your face, it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It wasn’t awkward between the two of you. Nothing had changed. It would just be like the night never happened. “Hi,” he said.

“Nah, come on, Draco, don’t be shy,” Blaise rolled his eyes and Theo grinned. “Is that how you greet your girlfriend after a week apart?”

“Shut up,” he shot at them.

Looking back at you, there was a challenging look on your face. You had raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to act. He hadn’t expected it. However, he knew what you were thinking. He should probably kiss you. Just for the sake of keeping this charade alive.

Carefully, Draco leaned forward. Just a quick kiss, he thought. He closed his eyes and then his lips met yours.

Fireworks.

The only description, he thought was fitting. Your lips touched only for a few seconds and yet something happened. A wave of memories hit him when he breathed in the smell of your shampoo. Suddenly, he was back in that hotel room and it was only the two of you. Almost out of instinct, he raised his hand to your cheeks and the once innocent kiss changed. He felt your hand gripping his shoulder tightly as you leaned in, desperate to get more.

It was Blaise who ended the kiss – with a click of his tongue, followed by a disgusted: “Okay, by Merlin, get a room, you two.”

***

A/N: My looooves, please bare with me. I know this is such a slow burn :D I Hope you still like it! I promise you, the pretending will end some day! <33

CHAPTER 16

Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701, @youareinllve, @sjmahoney, @detroitobsessed, @takura-rin, @jadam268, @wynterwind, @mina672, @renaissance-confiance, @harpoon999, @doitforthevine67, @rinasrights, @flowerpowerpixie, @gold-flowing, @starkssnarks, @bookcornerkins, @harpersmariano, @markedsweetly, @iraniq, @pointlesscoconut, @hvrcruxes, @pillowjj, @idkatee, @jungjxxhyun, @magicwithaknife, @graystherapy, @sophia-gwendolyn, @nxstalgicnxbxdy, @sunsetsofanemoia, @s4dthrills, @tommy-holland, @lordfxxker, @streetfighterrichie, @awaken-the-sirens, @destiels-assbutt13, @pockitparks, @just-addicted-to-bangtan, @cuddlykoala101, @zpandaqueen, @marvelpeters, @natsiboo, @jjjmaybank, @justmesadgirl, @books-and-tings, @slytherinprincedracom, @katiaw2, @saintkore, @nctnight, @lifestragedy, @obxmxybxnk, @spideydobik , @ladylizzieofdarbyshire, @aspiring-ginger, @dracomalfoyswifey, @jpow345, @realistic-breadstick, @h-annahayy, @abbs-is-tired, @alwaysbeanunknownfan, @niallsarmveinstho, @is-this-a-febreze-commercial, @acciowilltolive, @spideysmcu, @sexytholland, @faangirl101, @donttellany1iusetumbler, @mendesmuffinsss, @lilxnvm, @kill-the-teen-memories, @darkusangelus, @p0gue420, @itsbebeyyy, @hesaidimcrazy, @jenniweaslee, @hpxpjo, @brisbubble, @xomaymay, @shitnstuffillregret, @serialkillme, @angel-tears15, @panicattheeverywherekid, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @africana , @disgraceisonfire, @nobleking, @tashii-blr, @ddaeing, @randogirlo-fando-main, @sadgirlnumber92899, @captivateing, @bitchyegirl, @smiithys, @ninipoo1, @intheawks, @cherrylita, @nothanksnyla, @calpal-4ever, @dracosathenaeum, @belsandthings, @lifeasdreamgirl , @kiwi-sloan, @xdmx, @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy, @kvyenxay, @live-awkward, @babebenhardy, @bitchysweets-blog, @cravingmusic, @frau-moon, @ohissandhalasta, @noravirginia1994, @broken-but-beautiful-cassie, @lil-black-heart, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @vminenthusiastt, @dracos-slut, @ohbabycal, @saucysuazo, @fuzzzwald, @matsuno-nadeshiko, @amber-arsenault , @virtuallawyergardenbailiff, @loveableasshole, @thehippyprepster, @spideycures, @echpr, @shiningstar-byulxx, @profoundmoneyprofessoralmond, @twinklebug2282, @bloodiedroses, @klthmef, @ostorian , @bi-chai-tea, @maddieisnotok, @amandaluvssupernatural, @makeoutwithstiles, @kelly182001, @holyranchgoopjudge, @i-am-addicted-to-tea, @tenclouds, @lovingdracomalfoy, @lannaax, @dr-bitch-bby, @lunardragon616, @fallinallinmendes, @suckerforparker, @runninglownad, @piercinghorizons, @dosicas, @sarashuu, @yanaaaaaaa, @desertdwellerwitch, @bittersweetthoughts–ofinsanity, @akzer300500, @bbeautyybbx, @hoseokslily, @dracofeltonmalfoy, @emilianamason, @tothemoonwithclifford, @gcldreinhart , @piercinghorizons, @angelofthorr, @k-k0129, @musicalmuffindog1410, @andydre4m, @mxl-foyrecs, @seeinorange, @vlgsqd , @strivingforelegance

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 3 years

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On Family

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

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One question that I see asked in the news a lot is why there are still any ghouls left. We have a distinctive, high-impact feeding habit that requires us to stay within human society, where we are both outnumbered and outgunned. This has essentially been the case since the development of automatic firearms, and you’ve continued to develop more and more effective methods of killing us since then. How are we not extinct?

The talking heads always have lurid theories to propose. My personal favorite one, which comes up every couple of years or so, is that the government is secretly breeding us so that they have an excuse to send secret police out into the general populace for nefarious purposes pretending to be exterminators. As if they’d need the excuse {Editing Note: I’ve gotta keep my political views out of this except where they directly pertain to ghouls. No unnecessarily alienating people}. The most commonly accepted one seems to be that we just have a lot of children to compensate for our high mortality rate. Spatha calls that an R strategy, I think. Scarlet calls it the Rabbit Theory. Whatever you call it, it’s wrong. Our species has survived off the strength and compassion of our families.

Contrary to popular impressions, our “nuclear” families are pretty small. My understanding is that 1-4 children is the typical range. I’m the only confirmed only child in my friend group. Scarlet’s the youngest of three, Scorpio’s a middle child, Spatha avoids talking about her home life, and Kestrel doesn’t know her biological parents. There’s a couple of pressures that keep our family sizes small. First, it’s challenging to feed too many ghouls at once, especially ghoul children, who we don’t want worrying about where they’re going to get their meals. Second, the majority of ghoul parents are going to end up as single parents before their kids are fully grown. Either one of them is going to get killed, or they’re going to have to separate to go on the run from the exterminators; and, of course, we do still break up and get divorced sometimes.

These pressures are exaggerated by our general lack of an extended family. It’s not that all of our aunts and uncles get hunted down - even if they did, we’d still have cousins - but it’s not safe for us to have traceable extended families. When exterminators identify a ghoul, the first thing they do is put out a bulletin for all known blood relatives. The most common tactic to avoid this is, when multiple siblings make it to adulthood, at least one of them changes their identity and moves away. This isn’t always done, but it’s done often enough that document forging is a widespread and well-respected profession in the Society. It’s useful for dodging exterminators in other circumstances too. My mom and I changed our names and moved cities after exterminators killed my dad when I was 4.

Between that and the sheer number of out-and-out orphans in our Society, it should come as no surprise that we’ve developed a new family structure to fill in the gaps. The terminology we use for this structure is variable, but the term I’ve always used is “household”. A household is a sort of adopted extended family, typically formed by and centered around one particularly resourceful ghoul called a patron. The patron takes whichever ghouls they choose under their wing, introduces them to each other, and helps them coordinate their talents and resources so that they all have everything they need. Most obviously, this means making sure they all have a supply of flesh, but there are numerous other kinds of support a household can provide. I doubt I need to emphasize again how valuable a reliable source of companionship and safety is, but patrons typically have access to connections and contacts that can help the other members of the household accomplish their goals.

My household, for example, was founded by our patron Yaga. It consists of her, her adopted daughter Kestrel, my mom and I, my friends Scarlet and Scorpio and their immediate families, and four other older ghouls. There’s also Spatha, who has been reluctant to fully join the household but acts like a member in most contexts. Three of our members have reliable flesh sources, and Yaga coordinates with other ghouls to find supplementary sources to ensure that she always has a surplus on hand. This keeps all of us well-fed and lets her distribute the rest to those in need in exchange for favors and cachet that the rest of us can use for our own advancement. In turn, the rest of us pitch in for odd jobs here and there, mostly on flesh-gathering jobs of one kind or another, and we look out for each other. I’ve done a bit of babysitting with Kestrel, for example, and Yaga was able to get me and Scarlet summer jobs to save up for college.

Babysitting, by the way, is one of the most valuable services a household can provide to a ghoul parent. Given our mortality rate, it probably isn’t a surprise that there’s a good bit of cultural pressure to have children, and have them quick. Ghoul children are… a lot. When we’re newborn, we’re pretty much like human babies. Ghoul babies can nurse from ghoul mothers for awhile, which is a relief. They need to switch to flesh before their teeth come in, though, so that means flesh slurry, which is more complicated to make than you might think. For best results, you want a mix of blood, muscle tissue, organ tissue, and bone, especially marrow. We get better at pulling all our nutrients from just flesh as we mature, but babies aren’t as developed. Getting those varied tissues is a little more complicated than just getting flesh. Bone especially is challenging - more mature ghouls have no need for it, and it’s honestly kinda gross. You just have to hope that whoever you’re getting flesh from can start holding some bones for you. Not every source has easy access to bones.

{Editing Note: I think I wrote bone too many times - it looks fake now. Bone. Bone.}

We get our ghoul teeth at the same time as our baby teeth. Our ghoul teeth fall out and are replaced too, but we keep growing new ones our whole lives, kinda like sharks. Funnily enough, I don’t think we grow extra human teeth, which seems like a strange way for evolution to take us, but what do I know, I’m not a biologist. At that point we can start eating regular flesh, and parents have the unenviable task of explaining to toddlers that they can’t just slide their teeth out whenever they want. Our other features come in a bit later - claws between 4 and 6, eyes with puberty. Let me tell you, the claws hurt coming in. I couldn’t hold a pencil for a month. My mom told the elementary school that I was deathly sick so she could keep me home, but I think Scarlet just pretended he’d broken both his hands and went in splints. I don’t envy him - stretching my claws did a lot to relieve the pain.

I’ll admit freely that, by our standards, I had a pretty charmed childhood. I fit into human society pretty easily, I had a mom who loved me and could provide for me, a patron and household to help pick up the slack, and ghoul friends my own age. I had the discipline to keep my true nature hidden from my human peers, and I don’t think I was even particularly traumatized by the pressure of performing humanity that much. I can safely attribute that to the fact that I had safe spaces throughout my life to let the charade drop. Most ghouls at least have that. Most, but not all.

Our integration into human society also means that we inevitably become entangled in human society. We become invested in the lives of our human peers, we befriend them, care about them. Sometimes we fall in love with them. Eating people seems like kind of a big secret to keep from a potential romantic partner - I certainly couldn’t manage it - but some ghouls form romantic relationships with humans nonetheless. Maybe some of these human partners eventually discover the truth and are willing to overlook it for the person they love, but I doubt it happens often. I’ve certainly never heard of it. I’ve heard of it going the other way, though, a human partner discovering the truth and reacting poorly. Someone always dies when that happens. I personally know a few ghouls who’ve dated humans, or are seriously involved with them. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. I get that the heart wants what it wants, but some wants aren’t worth the risk.

{Editing Note: That last line feels… tense. Emotionally charged. Why? And should I change it?}

In my opinion, the gravest of these risks is what happens when a human and a ghoul decide they want to build a life together, but kids are already in the equation. The human-ghoul mixed family is probably the most toxic environment that a ghoul child could be raised in and conceivably survive. All that pressure of hiding your true nature from your peers as you grow up? That feeling of isolation that follows you everywhere you go among humans? All of the most crushing emotional turmoil I’ve described in this book so far? Imagine if there was no relief for that even at home with your family. I frankly have no idea how ghoul parents manage to feed themselves and their children without being caught, or how they manage to perform humanity so flawlessly and constantly that their literal immediate family never catches on. I don’t know how those children manage to survive to adulthood, but I imagine they have some seriously fucked up mental health problems by the time they do. Factor in the suspicion that they would inevitably face from our Society when they finally are able to join it properly - after all, who more likely to become a Judas or be Lost than a ghoul raised by humans? - and I’d be willing to bet most of them don’t make it out of their twenties.

Before we move on entirely from families in general and mixed families in particular, I’d like to take a quick aside to talk about “half-ghouls”. You hear about them in horror media fairly often, the biological child of a human and a ghoul. Authors love to ascribe all sorts of traits to these hypothetical creatures - greater and more monstrous than the sum of their parts, supernaturally strong and vicious, impossible to detect within human society, sometimes with traits that are blatantly impossible, like telepathy or mind control or just plain magic. All of that is obviously untrue, but it’s something of a point of contention as to whether or not a “half-ghoul” is even possible. None of the ghouls I’ve talked to seem to agree about whether it can happen, and a search of human medical literature was similarly inconclusive. Humans, at least, seem to think that it might be theoretically possible, but have never been able to verify it by observation or by medical experiment. Of the ghouls I know that have been romantically involved with humans, none of them have ever gotten a kid out of it. It’s one of those things where we just don’t know. If it were possible, I’m not even sure what the implications would be.

#my writing #memoirs of a flesh eater #original fiction #not tlt

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supercantaloupe · 3 years

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okay yeah actually, i’ll bite. i’ve got some of my own thoughts about the unsleeping city and cultural representation and i’m gonna make a post about them now, i guess. i’ll put it under a cut though because this post is gonna be long.

i wanna start by saying i love dimension 20 and i really really enjoy the unsleeping city. i look forward to watching new episodes every week, and getting hooked on d20 as a whole last summer really helped pull me out of a pandemic depression, and i’m grateful to have this cool show to be excited about and interested in and to have met so many cool people to talk about it with.

that being said, however, i think there is a risk run in representing any group of people/their culture when you have the kind of setting that tuc has. by which i mean, tuc is set in a real world with real people and real human cultures in it. unlike fantasy high or a crown of candy where everything is made up (even if rooted in real-world cultures), tuc is explicitly rooted in reality, and all of its diversity -- both the ups and downs that go with it. and especially set in new york of all places, one of the most densely, diversely populated cities on earth. the cast is 7 people; it’s great that those 7 people come from a variety of backgrounds and identities and all bring their own unique perspectives to the table, and it’s great that those people and the entire crew are generally conscious of themselves and desire to tell stories/represent perspectives ethically. but you simply cannot authentically represent every culture or every perspective in the world (or even just in a city) when your cast is 7 people. it’s an impossible task. this is inherent to the setting, and acknowledged by the cast, and by brennan especially, who has been on record saying how one of the exciting aspects of doing a campaign set in nyc is its diversity, the fact that no two new yorkers have the same perspective of new york. i think that’s a good thing -- but it does have its challenges too, clearly.

i’m not going to go into detail on the question of whether or not tuc’s presentation of asian and asian american culture is appropriative/offensive or not. first of all, i don’t feel like it’s 100% fair to judge the show completely yet, since it’s a prerecorded season and currently airing midseason, so i don’t yet know how things wrap up. secondly, i’m not asian or asian american. i can have my own opinions on that content in the show, but i think it’s worth more to hear actual asian and asian american voices on this specific aspect of the show. having an asian american cast member doesn’t automatically absolve the show of any criticisms with regard to asian american cultural representation/appropriation, whether those criticisms are made by dozens of viewers or only a handful of them. regardless, i don’t think it’s my place as someone who is not asian to speak with any authority on that issue, and i know for a fact that there are asian american viewers sharing their own opinions. their thoughts in this instance hold more water than mine, i think.

what i will comment on in more depth, though, is a personal frustration with tuc. i’m jewish; i’ve never really been shy about that fact on my page here. i’m not from new york, but i visit a few times a year (or i did before covid anyway, lol), and i have some family from nyc. nyc, to me, is a jewish city. and for good reason, since it’s home to one of the largest jewish populations of the country, and even the world, and aspects of jewish culture (including culinary, like bagels and pastrami, and linguistic, like the common use of yiddish words and phrases in english colloquial speech) are prevalent and celebrated among jews and goyim alike. when i think of nyc, i think of a jewish city; that’s not everybody’s new york, but that’s my new york, and thats plenty of other people’s new york too. so i do find myself slightly disappointed or frustrated in tuc for its, in my opinion, rather stark lack of jewish representation.

now, i’m not saying that one of the PCs should have been jewish, full stop. i love to headcanon iga as jewish even though canon does not support that interpretation, and i’m fine with that. she’s not my character. it’s possible that simply no one thought of playing a jewish character, i dunno. but also, and i can’t be sure about this, i’m willing to bet that none of the players really wanted to play a jewish character because they didn’t want to play a character of a marginalized culture they dont belong to in the interest of avoiding stereotyping or offensive representation/cultural appropriation. (i don’t know if any of the cast members are jewish, but i’m assuming not.) and the concern there is certainly appreciated; there’s not a ton of mainstream jewish rep out there, and often what we get is either “unlikeable overly conservative hassidic jew” or “jokes about their bar mitzvah/one-off joke about hanukkah and then their jewishness is never mentioned ever again,” which sucks. it would be really cool to see some more good casual jewish rep in a well-rounded, three-dimensional character in the main cast of a show! even if there are a couple of stumbles along the way -- nobody is perfect and no two jews have the same level of knowledge, dedication, and adherence to their culture.

but at the same time, i look at characters like iga and i really do long for a jewish character to be there. siobhan isn’t polish, yet she’s playing a characters whose identity as a polish immigrant to new york is very central to her story and arc. and part of me wonders why we can’t have the same for a jewish character. if not a PC, then why not an NPC? again, i’m jewish, and i am not native, but in my opinion i think the inclusion of jj is wonderful -- i think there are even fewer native main characters in mainstream media than there are jewish ones, and it’s great to see a native character who is both in touch with their culture as well as not being defined solely by their native-ness. to what extent does it count as ‘appropriative’ because brennan is a white dude? i dunno, but i’m like 99% sure they talked to sensitivity consultants to make sure the representation was as ethical as they could get it, and anyway, i can’t personally see and glaring missteps so far. but again, i’m not native, and if there are native viewers with their own opinions on jj, i’d be really interested in hearing them.

but getting back to the relative lack of jewish representation. it just...disappoints me that jewishness in new york is hardly ever even really mentioned? again, i know we’re only just over halfway through season 2, but also, we had a whole first season too. and it’s definitely not all bad. for example: willy! gd, i love willy so much. him being a golem of williamsburg makes me really really happy -- a jewish mythological creature animated from clay/mud (in this case bricks) to protect a jewish community (like that of williamsburg, a center for many of nyc’s jews) from threat. golem have so often been taken out of their original context and turned into evil monsters in fantasy settings, especially including dnd. (even within other seasons of d20! crush in fh being referred to as a “pavement golem” always rubbed me the wrong way, and i had hoped they’d learned better after tuc but in acoc they refer to another monster as a “corn golem” which just disappointed me all over again.) so the fact that tuc gets golems right makes my jewish heart very happy.

and yet...he doesn’t show up that much? sure, in s1, he’s very helpful when he does, but in s2 so far he shows up once and really does not say or do much of anything. he speaks with a lot more yiddish-influenced language than other characters, but if you didn’t know those words were specifically yiddish/jewish, you might not be able to otherwise clock the fact that willy is jewish. and while willy is a jewish mythological creature who is jewish in canon, he isn’t human. there are no other direct references to judaism, jewish characters, or jewish culture in the unsleeping city beyond him.

there are, in fact, two other canon jewish characters in tuc. but...here’s where i feel the most frustration, i think. the two canon jewish humans in tuc are stephen sondheim and robert moses. both of whom are real actual people, so it’s not like we can just pick and choose what their cultural backgrounds are. as much as i love stephen sondheim, i think there are inherent issues with including real world people as characters in a fictional setting, especially if they are from living/recent memory (sondheim is literally still alive), but anyway, sondheim and moses are both actual jewish people. from watching tuc alone you probably would not be able to guess that sondheim is jewish -- nothing from his character except name suggests it, and i wouldn’t even fault you for not thinking ‘sondheim’ is a jewish-sounding surname (and i dislike the idea/attitude/belief that you can tell who is or isn’t jewish by the sound of their name). and yeah, i’m not going to sit here and be like “brennan should have made sondheim more visibly jewish in canon!” because, like, he’s a real human being and it’s fucking weird to portray him in a way that isn’t as close to how he publicly presents himself, which is not in fact very identifiably jewish? i don’t know, this is what i mean by it’s inherently weird and arguably problematic to portray real living people as characters in a fictional setting, but i digress. sondheim’s jewish, even if you wouldn’t know it; not exactly a representation win.

and then there’s bob moses. you might be able to guess that he’s jewish from canon, actually. there’s the name, of course. but more insidious to me are the specifics of his villainy. greedy and powerhungry, a moneyman, a lich whose power is stored in a phylactery...it does kind of all add up to a Yikes from me. (in the stock market fight there’s a one-off line asking if he has green skin; it’s never really directly acknowledged or answered, but it made me really uncomfortable to hear at first and it’s stuck with me since viewing for the first time.) the issue for me here is that the most obviously jewish human character is the season’s bbeg, and his villainy is rooted in very antisemitic tropes and stereotypes.

i know this isn’t all brennan’s fault -- robert moses was a real ass person and he was in fact jewish, a powerhungry and greedy moneyman, a big giant racist asshole, etc. i’m not saying that jewish characters can’t be evil, and i’m not saying brennan should have tried to be like “this is my NPC robert christian he’s just like bob moses but instead he’s a goy so it’s okay” because...that would be fuckin weird bro. and bob moses was a real person who was jewish and really did do some heinous shit with his municipal power. i’m not necessarily saying brennan should have picked/created a different character to be the villain. i’m not even saying that he shouldn’t have made bob moses a lich (although, again, it doesn’t 100% sit right with me). but my point here is that bob moses is one of a grand total of three canon jewish characters in tuc, of which only two humans, of whom he is the one you’d most easily guess would be jewish and is the most influenced by antisemitic stereotypes/tropes. had there been more jewish representation in the show at all, even just some neutral jewish NPCs, this would not be as much of a problem as it is to me. but halfway through season 2, so far, this is literally all we get. and that bums me out.

listen, i really like tuc. i love d20. but the fact that it is set in a real world place with real world people does inherently raise challenges when it comes to ethical cultural representation. especially when the medium of the show is a game whose creatures, lore, and mechanics have been historically rooted in some questionable racial/cultural views. and dnd is making progress to correct some of those misguided views of older sourcebooks by updating them to more equitably reflect real world racial/cultural sensitivities; that’s a good thing! but these seasons, of course, were recorded before that. the game itself has some questionable cultural stuff baked into it, and that is (almost necessarily) going to be brought to the table in a campaign set in a real-world place filled with real-world people of diverse real-world cultures. the cast can have sensitivity consultants and empathy and the best intentions in the world, and they’ll still fuck up from time to time, that’s okay. your mileage may vary on whether or not it’s still worth sticking around with the show (or the fandom) through that. for me, it does not yet outweigh all the things i like about the show, and i’m gonna continue watching it. but it’s still very worth acknowledging that the cast is 7 people who cannot possibly hope to authentically or gracefully represent every culture in nyc. it’s an unfortunate limitation of the medium. yet it’s also still worthwhile to acknowledge and discuss the cultural representation as it is in the show -- both the goods and the bads, the ethically solid and the questionably appropriative -- and even to hold the creators accountable. (decently, though. i’m definitely not advocating anybody cyberbully brennan on twitter or whatever.) the show and its representation is far from perfect, but i also don’t think it ever could be. still, though, it could always be better, and there’s a worthwhile discussion to be had in the wheres, hows, and whys of that.

#sasha reviews #sasha speaks #the unsleeping city #unsleeping city #long post #dimension 20 #gd i stayed up way too late to write this #tuc #the unsleeping city chapter 2 #the unsleeping city 2 #tuc2 #antisemitism

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dovakhiindrabbles · 3 years

Note

For the prompt 43 with Brynjolf please?

Of course! I’d be more than happy to write the prompt for you! I only hope you have an amazing day and enjoy! <3

43. “Come with me.”

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Nocturnal was a god among mortals -- a daedric prince who oversaw the murky shadows and all who hid among them. Whispers heard throughout the world told of how she could even be found lingering in those shadows, an inky blackness clinging to her as if the very sun itself couldn’t reveal her.

She was above the follies of mortals and yet couldn’t help herself from meddling. Especially those of her most loyal followers -- the Nightingales.

She’d noticed from her times looming within the darkness how you and Brynjolf interacted. How hands briefly brushed and fingers just barely interlocked. How passing glances held just a second too long to be unimportant. How no matter where you went, you went together.

Your feelings for one another were so painfully obvious an infant could see it -- so apparently the two of you had even less awareness.

It was an opportunity Nocturnal couldn’t pass up.

Between the two of you, she first sought out Brynjolf. The man fancied himself as clever, often to such a degree that a snippy remark had slipped out in some of their conversations.

It was during the night when she caught him, just outside the Blue Palace where he’d managed to escape from. Guards spilled out and yells could be heard from each and every corner -- even those caught in shadow. Brynjolf had slipped between two manors where the moonlight missed just so. An ornate, extravagant jewelry box clamped between his grip with more gemstones and gold decorating it than most would see in their entire life.

From there, Nocturnal revealed herself in the darkest crevice space could offer. The darkness extended her outwards and still clung to her despite her physical form. She was a void, and the shape she created only split itself apart in the pure absence of light -- not even the brightest lantern would be able to paint her figure.

“My Nightingale.”

Brynjolf nearly jumped into the open road in shock, smacking his back up against the wall in frustration upon realizing. “Fucking fuck are you-”

He looked up at Nocturnal’s imposing figure and thought better of himself. He spoke softly, his gaze alternating between her and the streets cluttering further and further of curious onlookers and furious guards. “My lady, what can I do for you?”

She made a motion with her hand that brought strings of the void trailing after her fingertips. “On the contrary, I am here to offer you my assistance.”

Brynjolf gave a cheeky grin. “Could you get me out of this mess?”

“You are one of my most trusted followers with an agent of my own creation. There should be no situation beyond your skills.”

“I know.” Brynjolf groaned. “Worth a shot. Meet me outside the gates, my lady?”

She vanished without a word and Brynjolf proceeded to lift himself up onto the rim of one of the manor’s roof. He hoisted himself up and pressed his body close to the tiles, only lifting himself up to leap from home to home. In that time he truly was a shadow, beyond any light and any eyes that would make the foolish attempt to seek him out.

Minutes later he was beyond Solitude’s walls and any outrage that still remained was drowned out by the falling and crashing of the waves below. Still hidden away safely in his coat was the jewelry box -- not so much as a scuff on it. Brynjolf impressed himself every time.

As he began walking along the carved out path, Nocturnal reemerged. Her form freer beyond Solitude’s constant desire for warmth. She carried herself freely, and she took on a shape almost human, but not quite. There was always an unknowable aspect to Nocturnal that could never be described. Many daedra carried themselves in such a way, so that they could nearly blend in, but never be forgotten by anything lesser than a fool.

“That was commendable.” Nocturnal hummed. Both a lightness and a deepness coexisted in her voice.

Brynjolf interlocked his fingers and stretched them out; a popping could be heard. He sighed dramatically. “All in a day’s work.”

“I hope you are able to hide that treasure as well as you hide your feelings.”

Brynjolf knew Daedric princes were meant to be incapable of understanding; downright incomprehensible sometimes. But this? It bewildered him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You and the other Nightingale?”

Brynjolf cracked a grin. “Karliah?” He tested Nocturnal’s kindness.

“The other one.” She swatted a bit of darkness at him and like a tight band flung outward, it stung him.

“Ah, that one.” Brynjolf rubbed at his little red mark where Nocturnal smacked him like a petulant child. “What of them?”

Nocturnal stepped in front of him, a swirling blackness keeping her from ever truly touching the ground. “You both have feelings for one another?”

Brynjolf did what he knew best, and dodged the question. “What like hate? Friendliness? Perhaps a bit of irritation?”

“Do not attempt to evade me, Nightingale.” Nocturnal raised her voice and the night became that much more invasive. She settled herself quickly. “You are my servant, there is nothing I do not know. The darkest, most secretive parts of yourself are the ones I know best. Fortunately for you, I only wish to help.”

Brynjolf wrinkled his nose and cracked beneath the pressure. It was a touchy subject, apparently. “Oh yeah? And how’s that?”

“I need only open your eyes,” Nocturnal answered. “I think you’ll find it’s clear the feelings are mutual.”

“I don’t want to be disrespectful my lady but-”

Nocturnal cut him off. “Then don’t be.”

Brynjolf scoffed. “But I don’t see how that’s possible.”

She tipped her head to the side curiously. “How is that?”

“Because there are a million other better people knocking on their door!” Brynjolf exclaimed it like it were obvious. “I mean why would someone like that choose someone like me?”

“Someone like you? Their equal?”

Brynjolf scowled and huffed. “Like a thief could ever be on par with the Dragonborn.”

Nocturnal simpered. “The Dragonborn themself also is a thief. Last I recall you two work closely together.”

“Even still-”

“The only one creating rifts in this relationship is you, my Nightingale. What are you afraid of?”

He hesitated and in an instant Nocturnal knew.

“Rejection.”

Brynjolf’s hands tightened into tight, uneasy fists at the revelation. Nocturnal raised those hands and unfurled them, tracing lines of shadow along his palm. In the most peculiar way, it was soothing, and Brynjolf supposed it was her own... unique way of comforting him.

“If I believed there was a chance the Dragonborn wouldn’t share those feelings I would not be here, speaking to you. I only want what is best for my followers.”

“Besides,” Nocturnal mused. “if it goes poorly, you can simply submerge yourself within the shadows for eternity.”

Brynjolf chuckled. “I might take you up on that offer.”

“You won’t.” Nocturnal looked up at him with an emptiness one could consider her eyes. Her ‘windows to the soul’ only unveiled further darkness, but only in the way one shrouds themself beneath the shade of a blanket to escape what frightens them -- it was a relief, protection. “Because you won’t have to.”

A moment later, Nocturnal disappeared within the void beneath her. She sank into the night that had soaked into the very deepest layers of the earth, leaving Brynjolf to himself and her words.

By the time he’d made it to the Nightingale Hall, he’d made up his mind.

You were sitting in the living quarters with Karliah, seated across one another and leaned both in the old, weary chairs. You’d been laughing, and Brynjolf could tell by the edges of your lips lifted up. The moment you saw him, you lit up.

“Bryn! There you are! Karliah was starting to think you got lost along the way!”

He snorted. “I could’ve. What a bitch of a walk.”

Karliah furrowed her brow, amused. “You could’ve stolen a horse like a sane person.”

“Maybe I like the quiet. You can hardly get any of it here.”

She rolled her eyes at the very idea. “You wouldn’t know what to do without us.”

Brynjolf laughed. “Absolutely lass.”

He turned to you and his heart began to thump heavy and hard against his chest. Of all the things to bring him nerves in life, it was you bringing knots and tangles in his stomach. He took a deep breath and grasped your shoulder, gesturing. “Come with me.”

Your eyes widened like saucers, but you stood up. To say the least, your curiosity was piqued. “Alright... what is it?”

“I just wanted to talk to you, in private.”

You ducked your head away to hide the red that burst onto your face. You folded your lips to hide a growing smile, but you were still clearly nervous, shuffling your feet and fidgeting with your hands. “Okay.”

He led you outside where the evening had overtaken the sky overhead in a mix of blues, pinks, and the slightest tinge of purple. It was a beautiful sight, and one of the rare gifts that came with living in Skyrim.

Brynjolf leaned against the stone cavern of the hall and ran his fingers through his hair. This felt so much easier in his head. “I ah -- I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an idiot.”

“Bryn-”

“No! I just -- I want to say this, but be patient with me, please. I’m not good with... emotions.” Brynjolf laughed. “You don’t get to be a man like me by being open.”

You nodded and stayed, you were far too patient than he deserved.

“I-” Brynjolf swallowed hard and took a few steps forward. A part of him wanted to reach for your hand but that’d be too much, too soon. If he -- if Nocturnal was wrong he didn’t want to dig his grave any further than necessary.

“I love you.”

There was a period of silence where Brynjolf considered Nocturnal’s offer to hide in the shadows forever. It was a horrible few seconds where Brynjolf’s vision was stagnant and the entire world was frozen in time.

He only came back to reality when you took his hand. You enveloped it in your own and squeezed his palm fondly. You were warm, and your grip was steadfast.

“I love you too.”

Brynjolf rarely smiled from ear to ear, but he did then. He took you in his arms and spun you like one only saw in fairy tales. It was something he only just now realized he’d wanted to do for the longest time. There were so many things he wanted to do -- with you -- and now, he could.

He would have to thank Nocturnal the next time they crossed paths.

#Brynjolf #Skyrim #tes #Skyrim tes #brynjolf skyrim #Brynjolf x Reader #Brynjolf x You #You x Brynjolf #Skyrim Fanfic #Skyrim Fanfiction #x Reader #brynjolf fanfiction #Brynjolf Fanfic #Forgot how much I LOVE nocturnal #also thieves guild might be my favorite questline

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nozomijoestar · 3 years

Text

Some words on KumiRei since I’m in another Hibike renaissance and can give time to how I feel I don’t agree 100% with any major camps on how its perceived in the anime though I do consider it romantic

First off I believe KumiRei is not only romantic as a WLW, but both characters are aware of this romantic nature they don’t show anyone else, they are not in full denial nor are they just friends- instead its a complex weave of the two, and they act accordingly

Neither do I believe either is heterosexual but rather Bisexual (Reina) and questioning Lesbian (Kumiko)

I’m drawing from deeply personal experience on it which is part of why I think this way regarding them so in saying that I think the issue is people are too used to formulas when viewing media, if A is seen as true then it must lead to B then C and maybe D and so on, but while I’ve been guilty of the same I think that’s a limiting way to view/engage with art, love doesn’t have to follow the old They confess, Everything is fine in the end, They get married, They have babies etc. path

There’s nothing wrong with liking that concept but when you fixate on holding something to a rigid standard of expectations, then you’re missing other perspectives and bigger pictures, you’re kinda locking yourself away from accepting life is made of lives not just your own, experiences not just your own, and how you choose to deal with those lives and yours (See only the tree, miss the forest and so on)

Hibike! is a show dedicated to human interpretation and expression in all of its characters and their intricate relationships so applying formulas to it to me is inherently missing the point to paint it as something its not trying to be (and reading it as strictly heterosexual is ignorance of an lgbt perspective)

All of that out the way and being said, every Kumiko and Reina interaction is a progression of romance that has the complication of being between two girls in a contemporary setting; every word, every silence, every touch or look is framed as openness for two people who’s entire foundation is struggling to find a place among humanity and peers and even initially toward each other, they have a defined separation between how they see themselves as together, as one, with a completeness they show others only in shades, so that every gesture they make as people with others has consideration they practiced and established first between each other, they are the genesis for a measure of each other’s overall humanity

Kumiko shoots higher because she sees Reina live it; Reina humbles her pride for empathy because she saw Kumiko try it, the list goes on and has been said by many- Kumiko is Kumiko near Reina and Reina is Reina near Kumiko, no gimmicks no tricks no hung up reservations on trust like there is with others, they simply are together and that is so hard to achieve, to be understood

People get caught up on Reina’s unreciprocated (thank god jsdifsj Edit: i rewatched the scene where Kumiko tells Reina she's rooting for her after learning Taki's wife died and I love the sentiment but that's still fuckin gross and I'd really like the entire Taki crush situation squashed completely in S3 whatever form it takes- I get they're teenagers so they don't know better and that kinda thing does happen (I know from personal experience even) but it's still wrong) feelings for Taki-sensei as they do the Shūichi + Kumiko situation then think that means KyoAni has no concept of homosexuality for not depicting the expected formula cishet couples (and Yuri as an exploitative genre) depict rather than remember that for now and for most including myself lgbt relationships are not part of the accepted normal and so can't be compared nor should they be expected to integrate in the exact same way to be valid- and Kumiko and Reina themselves seem to operate on knowing this which lends them an air of sadness to a degree because they can't (for Kumiko and her CompHet/Side that dislikes upsetting people which I feel lead her to accept then leave Shūichi's romantic interest even more so because in the end being in love with him isn't who she is and walking away there is growth on her part) be their entire selves and act in more intimate ways on their homosexuality than they already are

They know their closeness is special to them, their attraction is special, they know it's not how they treat other friends, and they know by how they keep treating each other that it's a level of romance especially in the way they say This is a confession of love not just in having said such a thing, they're not in denial enough to stop being as they are together but they are struggling to reconcile and build on how they see their other relationships which includes the men in their life and social expectation given their lgbt sides in their identities, not just because the series treats them as people but because they're teenagers (I feel like people forget they're kids all the time), and no teenager ever has all of themselves sorted out at their age even more than most adults, teens should be allowed to safely explore what the hell the world and other people mean for them to discover themselves and that's what I think is happening

When I was their age I didn't consciously realize my best friend was the love of my life since we were 11 in my eyes because of denial and fear to act on it or take a chance on my intensity being reciprocated, instead I loved her more than I loved myself while still having crushes and being in love with other girls all the time- even as she and I had what I felt was the same level of intimacy, love, and openness, we even entertained the idea of growing up to live together and it was only as an adult that I finally looked back and saw what she told me she already knew about me being in love

Reina and Kumiko canonically mull over the idea that they'd be separated as time goes on, and I think the observation shouldn't be When will they be a couple but rather They're too scared of going all the way as a couple for life to pull the rug from under them, they are for now in love and guarding it, preserving it with the last bit of distance they possess in themselves, and the question is when will they be comfortable enough to not need that fear

Human relationships are complicated and multilayered and can never be fully defined by set order and if the show accepts that then it's how I want to see it

#kumirei #hibike! euphonium

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justonecitizenoftheearth · 3 years

Text

Why the ending of Supernatural is problematic - the meaning of storytelling

Originally, I wanted to write a full essay on this and I still might, but since the university libraries are closed and I have three other big writing projects at hand, one of which is my final thesis, this might take a while. I still want to share my thoughts about this. A lot of this has been said before, but not yet by everyone. Trigger warning for mentions of suicide and homophobia.

The thing that bugs me most about the whole discussion about the ending of Supernatural is people saying “why do you care so much? It´s just a story.” Storytelling has been a part of human culture for thousands of years, it is something that everyone does and to think that telling stories doesn´t have a function in society that goes beyond entertainment is just plain wrong. Every part of storytelling, be it the actions shown, the words used, the characters involved or the connotations connected with any of the above, have the power to influence the way that the recipients of the story perceive reality. Now let that sink in for a moment.

To borrow some words from a text about gendered narration: “Narration is understood as a cultural practice that spans genres and media and it is of great significance for gender constructions and gender relations, because stories don´t simply reflect on the perception or imagination of ´gender´, but they create them. From this perspective, storytelling seems to be one of the performative acts that produce and establish identities and gender constructs in the first place.” (Nünning/Nünning (2006): Making gendered selves; translated from german). The important thing to take from this quote is the last bit: Storytelling is an act that produces and establishes identities. And from here, we jump directly into the ending of Supernatural.

I don´t think I have to explain a lot about what happens in the last two episodes of Supernatural. But I want to go into the potential impact. So, in the ending of episode 15x18, we see a male presenting character, Castiel, declare his love to another male presenting character, Dean Winchester. It is made very clear, both by the actual show and the comments of Misha Collins, who plays Castiel, right afterwards, that this is in fact meant to be romantic. Right after that scene, Castiel dies. He not only dies by coincidence, but confessing his love is the thing that makes him happy and therefore, because of a deal he made with the empty, is the thing that kills him. It is not explicitly said if Dean loves him back. In the next episode, this confession is never mentioned, but Dean shows some signs of wanting Castiel back desperately (begging Chuck to bring him back, running up the stairs because he thinks that Cas will be there), but these signs just stop at some point during the episode. In the series finale, Castiel is mentioned twice, but not once by Dean and always in a fleeting manner. It never becomes clear if Dean loves him back and life apparently just went on without him. Not to mention that death has never been a permanent or undefeatable state in the show. But Castiel never comes back, his feelings are never mentioned and neither are Dean´s, although it has been clear in previous seasons that he usually takes it very, very hard to lose Castiel, to a point where he becomes reckless and suicidal (see early season 13).

There are a few things to address here, but the main thing for me is that it seems like Castiel loses his status as a friend who will be dearly missed as soon as he comes out as in love with Dean Winchester, which is perceived by the audience as being gay (angelic gender discourse aside). And this is a bad message. It´s a really bad message both for people who struggle with their sexuality and see all their fears come true, and for people who have prejudices about LGBTQI+ people and get the message that they are less valuable as human beings. Which is not true, but again: Storytelling is an act that produces and establishes identities. The death of Castiel was only one of the problematic messages. Dean Winchester, who has been coded and perceived as bisexual and who has been a beacon of light for many who struggle with mental illnesses, dies too. Worse, he basically chooses death, which completely destroys the hopeful message of never giving up. Eileen Leahy, a deaf character who represents a group of people who are seldomly represented in media in a positive and empowering way, disappeares from the narrative, too, without an explanation and takes that empowerment with her. There are more examples, but the general idea is clear.

And this is, for me, the main problem with the Supernatural finale. The ending of Supernatural helps to establish hurtful tropes and assumptions. It transports messages that can be very harmful both for people who identify with those characters and see their own very real and important hopes and dreams fall to pieces, and for people who could use to see good representation of diverse characters to question their own values and opinions.

I hear you asking: “Okay, so bad media representation is bad in an abstract, cultural context. But how big can the impact of such media representation actually be for individual people? And how do you prove that?” So let me ask back: “Have you ever heard of the Werther effect?”

In 1774, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe published the novel “The sorrows of Young Werther”. In this book the main character kills himself after being rejected by the woman he´s in love with. After the novel had been published, a number of young men committed suicide, following the example of the book character Werther. This is not the only case where the depiction of the suicide of a character inspired people who strongly identify themselves with the character commit suicide: “There have been other such “epidemics” [meaning suicides in imitation], such as the rash of suicides in young Jewish females after the publication of Otto Weininger´s Sex and Character in 1903. However, an earlier recorded epidemic occurred in the early 1700s in Japan.” (Krysinka/Lester (2006): Comment on the Werther effect. S.100).

Long story short, it is a known phenomenon that media has a huge influence on the lives of recipients, especially if they can identify strongly with the characters, all the way to existential decisions like suicide. And in the case of Supernatural, that´s an extraordinarily relevant question.

The character Dean Winchester has battled depression, trauma and suicidal thoughts and tendencies in his journey. Many people who battled the same issues could identify themselves with this character, which is a known fact in the fandom and has been said multiple times on conventions and on social media. Showing that this character accepts death, even though it is questionable if that was necessary, and implying that the only way that he can find peace is by dying is highly problematic. Combined with the number of people who identify as LGBTQI+ and who have a strong connection to the character Dean Winchester, and considering the high suicide rate among LGBTQ+ individuals, death as the conclusion of his character arc is a dangerous message.

To summarize my point, storytelling is an insanely powerful instrument to shape the collective social memory of a culture and it has direct influence on how we perceive the world and other humans. Bad media representation causes real life issues and can be very harmful, both on a personal level and in society, for those who are affected. It lets hypocrites, homophobes and racists stay in their bubble of righteousness and fails to call them out on their bullshit. It is a lethal threat to some. Bad media representation and thoughtless storytelling is dangerous. And this is why I care so much. Because it´s not just about a story.

So, that´s it for now. I would love to hear your thoughts about it!

And I send love to all of my mutuals, everyone who loves Supernatural and hates the finale because of it, all of my rainbow siblings and everyone who needs it! <3

#the15yearshow #destiel #eileen leahy #media representation #spn season 15 #spn finale #literature textpost #the importance of representation #the sorrows of young werther #meta post #I guess #narratology #storytelling #literature student #supernatural

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jd-arts319 · 3 years

Text

Transformers oc Renegade

Designation: Renegade/Nirenia

(Others):Chromalight/Ultraviolet(Marine),Switchblade

(As a Cyber ninja):Cybeswift,Switchblade Former name: Artemis Enigma Nickname:Renny,Switchy,Switcher Age: 20(past)

26(future) Gender: (Mech, Femme)Femme Status: (Single, Taken)

Single(past)(before orion(optimus)asked her out)

Taken(future)

Appearance:

Current

(former)

Primary:Teal

Secondary:Black

Tertiary:Grey

Accents:Whites

Color of Optics:Turquoise

(Others):she has teal & white lumiscient hair that is 2-tone hair,with one white streak on the leftside of her hair

She sports a well endowed & athletic, voluptuous figure with some busty parts,she also has a angelic face(she felt awkward as she remembers only being busty,not voluptuous nor athletic,& she also remembers she is plainly beautiful not exotic type).

Her holoform

Size: 7ft Alt Mode:triple changer

-sports car(Corvette stingray)

-jet(windblade & slipstream VTOL alt mode) Speed Limits: - at altitude:Mach 2.35(2,500 km/h,1,550 mph)

-at sea level:1,400 km/h,872 mph Weapon(s): - multi-changing staff(an ancient relic of unknown origins,but believe to be forge by solus prime) -Energon fan(special),scythe,daggers

As Cyberninja

-enegron fan

-hidden blades & weapons

Fighting style:-Panzer kunst,Krav Maga,aikido,Brazilian jiu Jitsu,jeet kune do

Universe: (G1, Animated, Prime, Beast wars, Beast Machines, Armada, Energon, Cybertron, Bayverse,RID,Cyberverse)

-All of them

-Main:Transformers Animated

Abilities:

-she use Aura(Mana) as her basic power,her minors but common power are telepathy,telekinesis,teleportation/spatial,divine prediction & recognition,however their is one uncanny power that she used,but is came from the spectral meter pendant given by vector prime,she recognize it as sci twi’s pendant from mlp eg friendship games.

Faction: (Autobot, Deceptcion, Neutral, Own creation)

-Neutral(but is part of N.E.X.U.S team,she can either stay at autobots or decepticon)

-Autobot Neutral

-(alt.universe)decepticon Primary Class Function:Triple changer,Cyberninja (point one percenter) Secondary Class Function:Warrior,scientist

As Cyberninja:Warrior,espionage,scout

Subroutine Function:Mystery Personality: - an enigma,at first she is seen apathetic,impulsive,dumb & is nihillistic,but once she is focused she is very intelligent,cunning,calm,sassy,kind,nice,sweet,& empathetic,her attitude towards things but she is very much like ratchet except,unlike him she results in more passive-agressive way,she is shown to have at least patience,undersganding & consideration,aside that she will be protective to those who wormed their way into her spark,not only that but she deosn’t easily keeps promise because she knows their some promises aren’t eash to keep.

she has a humorous side as she likes bad puns & good jokes,aside from it their are times she comes off arrogant or who doesn't care but deep down she shows she cares,she isn’t fond of attention as she is currently self-aware who she really is,but she is rather uncanny of her unique abilities & talents.

(there times she questions why optimus end up choosing her among the three well-known femmes as she tries not to have his attention but alas is inevitable,but in other universe,she is a bit like pearl from steven universe,despite she done everything for optimus,he ends up choosing someone else & this cause her to feel ignored,she is now comping of moving on from him & their war all together ) Background story: when she was just a human,who likes anime,transformers etc. & many other things,but suddenly she was transmigrated into a cybertronian,it turns out the primes & primus,saw something in her as she understood about the lives of transformers & their each different unique aspects of their lives in the continuity,because of it she is transmigrated in tfa,as she woken up as artemis & unknown to her,she was gonna change everything.

She soon starts her life slowly as she tries not to get attention from others,but after saving bumblebee from wasp & ironhide up to offering a friendship to orion,she soon gain others attention as she slowly curses of herself,she did not realize she had taken the spark of a certain handsome blue & red truck bot.

As time pass she gain more attention from others as she tries to live her life peacefully while having some odd misunderstandings occurs.

Relationship:

Optimus prime

-great friends/lovers(<in another community),met earlier years before the show begins,she & him become really great friends to one another,however at the starts of the show,she enters the autobot boot camp after optimus enter first,she caught every mechs attention including sentinel,she also met elita who once had the reputation of being the most beautiful & intelligent femme in the boot camp,until she came but she stays close to optimus most of the time,however the arch 7 incident begun & because she wasn’t there at the time,despite knowing what happened she couldn’t help,even though she admits to the three she felt something is not right,it happend & she helps him trying to recover while she gave sentinel a visible dent under his chin,fast years go by she is now in 2nd command of ultra magnus.

Optimus really care for her than he thought because she still believes in him more than anyone else.

(in another timeline ren & optimus are together,but mostly i others she just mostly friends with him)

Bumblebee & Bulkhead:

-friends & respect with admiration,,when she was the sergeant in the boot camp,she always help both bumblebee & bulkhead out of trouble everytime both wasp & ironhide(she saw hope in him),including sentinel who in turn cant talk back to her,she once told wasp if he keeps it up with his bullying he will get karma,months later wasp was arrested for something he didn't do,while ren felt she knew something might happen & after this she once talked to bumblebee about this & said ominously”once you saw wasp again,give me a call,kay?”she gave him a special device to call her,bumblebee still clueless as to why but ren did help him & bulkhead out all time so he kinda owe her,years now when he saw wasp remembering her words he called her & she helps the two,bulkhead admire & respect her because she was the only one who believes in him.

The two are grateful to her & they respect her more than ultra & sentinel.

Prowl & ratchet:

-Friends & respect,prowl had once met her as she was training under yoketron,he thought she was one of those snobbish nobles,however he was proven wrong when she shows tactic & precise through training,over time of their training the two gain each other respect,on the endgame with her help she & prowl manage to save the allspark,Ratchet on the other hand it was a different story,while she may asked for a personal training in medical,but im truth it took awhile for the two to grown each other,she was the one who keeps on a tab on arcee’s state,hearing this he decided to to be acquainted with her & soon they become at least good friends.

They are fine with her,especially since she always helps them.

Sentinel prime:

-love-hate relationship,while the two are torn because of sentinel actions,there are a times they end up acting like they used to,still she was still pissed at him.

Elita one/Blackarachnia:

- same with sentinel,she & elita are once close but the arch 7 incident happens & when meet again their friendship torns apart,while blackarachnia snarky tries to still pins the blame on optimus,Ren decided to give her a run down on everything,reminding her that she also the one insisted,experimented on others,nearly trying to kill others & especially others,she told her that its makes her monster not because of her appearance but mostly her actions,she also remind her she almost have to be saved by optimus far too many times,however she have a little faith on elita.

Decepticons:

Megatron:

-Respect,friends-regardless of their factions,he owes her his life,,it was unknown how the two meet or why,but both stayed in touch most of the time,there isn't much of information about it.

Shockwave:

-Friends,Respect-she saved him before she enters the autobot boot camp,she found his bleeding in a planet where he suppsoed to start his mission but in a unfortunate time,he was bitten by a scraplet,while he kiled the scraplet he was bleeding,she found him & fixed his bitten part of his body & the two become acquintained,to its whether or not she knew he was decepticon.

Strengths: - her friends

-her powers

-the people she cares for

-self-awareness Weakness: - her mind

-her friends

-her empathy

-self-awareness Family: - she was forged & was taken care by the Enigma house -she is a Crescente

-her parents in house of Enigma,is Axel Enigma & Copper

Friends: - Orion pax/Optimus prime(friends/lovers(?),bumblebee,bulkhead,thundercracker,skywarp(she questions why),starscream(this one as well),Megatron(back then,she don’t know about now(tfp & idw),shockwave,lugnut,blitzwing(bruh??),

ocs:Novus,remix,ideaboard,

Enemies: -tfa(sentinel,council,blackarachnia(mutual)---0

-tfp(council,sentinel,arachnid,M.E.C.H)

-IDW TF(black block consortia,djd,overlord,sentinel---) Favorite Quotes to say: - “....i still think they are cybertronians regardless of their factions,they are like us in many ways of ones,we aren’t that different to begin with”(about the decepticons,autobots,& humans with aliens) Other: (other things about the character) -she was a Crescente & she doesn’t remember her real name,but her bracelet number code is SW1TCH814D3 she is fond of this name but she doesn’t use it,but she was always called Ren,Switchblade was her secondary name & nickname from her full name she can’t remember

-the “Celestyn”was her middle like all her ancestors starts from her 1st ancestor who had Celests,as their middle name

-”Crescente” was named after the moon,they history of their name & family is still mystery

-she has a counterpart who is a cyber ninja known as Cyberswift,born from enigma house & is the student of dai atlas

-she mostly use the energon fan given by dai atlas,who said it was made for her

-she has kids with optimus prime,their name is ortensia,a girl & artemis,a boy,they only exist in tfp & tfa au,rescue bots & rescue bots academy

-their relationship between ren & optimus,is portrayed as romantic in some transformers community & but their relationship is complete platonic in others

-her main universe is tfa & tfp

-the name “enigma”is special since it was rare to have “enigma”part of your name,it was name of the family she is”born”in

-some other universe,megatron becomes her lover instead,they had a kid named terminus

-her real name is Nirenia but changed into renegade,she still kept her real name though

-her nickname”Ren”is shared with the creator(me)regardless of her creator is sometimes called”rei”,but whenever the creator is referred to their other name”Ren”,renegade can be referred by her other names

-she is a point one precenter

-her cyberninja side has an extra but short bio about them

-she is the only one had two counterparts,her real-self & her cyberninja form

-Switchblade was someone else name.

________________

Her other forms

-g1

-rid2015

-tfp

-rescue bots

-cyberverse

-rescue bots academy

-bayverse! 1&2 vers.

Renegade (c) me

Transformers(all media types) (c) Hasbro,michale Bay

#Ocs #tfa #tfp #g1 #rescue bots #rescue bots academy #transformers #transformers animated #transfomers-oc #transformers prime #tf bayverse #Transformers Cyberverse #transformers rid2015 #renegade #originalverse & stableverse

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bluekaddis · 3 years

Note

How do Rein and Alistair rule their kingdom? Are they strict on laws? Are they lenient rulers? Are they sympathetic to the poor? Do they hate Mages?

Forgive me if this was asked before but I’ve been thinking about this with my own Warden and now I’m curious about others now. Also as always flawless work!

Hi! Thank you for such an interesting ask! I’m sorry that it's taken me so long to answer it. I just have too many thoughts and headcanons on how Ferelden could've changed between events of DA:O and DA:I and I lost track of the time writing them all down. 😶

I would say that Rein and Alistair are strict when it comes to enforcing their reforms for Ferelden. They do not have an easy task - Ferelden had barely started to recover from the years of occupation when the Blight began. When Rein and Alistair took over the crown, the country was under the threat of famine. Many villages were destroyed, their crops tainted. Denerim and a few other major cities were seriously damaged and Ferelden became an easy target for another invasion as half of its army was dead.

It was no time to play nice with the nobles, it was time to act. Ironically, the dire situation that the country was in, was obvious even to those opposing the new king and queen, and the protests were not as widely spread as one could imagine. Still, a few not-so-successful assassins and conspirators lost their lives during the first ten years of Rein and Alistair’s reign.

Here are some more important changes they've introduced:

- a royal decree was announced throughout Ferelden that any volunteer who decides to restore an abandoned farm and after a year manages to achieve a set amount of yield from it will be granted the rights to that farm. Any citizen of Ferelden, regardless of their race and social status, could apply for this task. As, in accordance with the Fereldan law, any freehold chooses the bann to whom it pays allegiance (and a head of every freehold can be elected bann by others) it was a great opportunity for the underrepresented people of Ferelden to gain some independence and political power. After Alistair named Shianni the first Bann of Denerim's Alienage, some city elves started to believe that they may have a chance to follow her example. Many succeeded and in a matter of a few years the influx of elves moving to the Fereldan countryside has lead to the situation in which many Ferelden villages have a larger population of elves than humans. A few small bannors with elven leaders were formed too (though they are not very politically powerful just yet, as human noble houses more often than not were not interested in alliances or trade agreements with elves). Immigration to Ferelden has grown, not only among elves but also surface dwarves and human peasants,

- elves were granted the right to carry weapons. They were also officially allowed to join the military and the city guard. The jurisdiction system was reformed to ensure equal rights of people of all races. It does not work perfectly and elves are still often treated unfairly, especially in places far away from the royal hand of justice. A few years after the Blight, the first elf in Ferelden was accepted to study law at University of Denerim and soon a few others followed,

- the sea trade with Free Marches and the land trade with Orzammar developed, while the land trade with Orlais worsened. The mountain trade routes have only been fully restored by the Inquisition when Skyhold became an important fortress on the border,

- what could be spared from the tight budget was spent on education. The court hired specialists from other countries (including Tevinter) and sent them to travel across Ferelden and share their knowledge to speed up the restoration of the country. Children are now encouraged to attend local schools for at least a few years. Now it is not much, but Rein and Alistair still hope that during their reign there will be new schools and even universities built across Ferelden and that soon Ferelden will no longer fall behind other countries,

- after the Blight, the necessity of having mages work outside the Circle was so clear that not even the Chantry could avert their eyes from the truth. The mage reformation is going slowly (to the monarchs’ frustration), but a few small compromises have been reached. The Chantry now allows small mage units to be transferred from the Circle to the cities. At first this rule applied only to Denerim, with Wynne as the royal enchanter, but with time every major city in Ferelden has began to host mages. The city mage unit consists of a Senior Enchanter and up to five assistant adult mages. Their duties include aiding the hospitals and assisting with restoring the land from the effects of the Blight,

- upon the Chantry’s request, each mage unit in the city is accompanied by a Templar unit of a similar size. The tension is still present as the templars can report any “suspicious” mages and request their transfer back to the Circle,

- after long negotiations with the Chantry, mage children up to age 13 were finally allowed to study in the city under the supervision of a local Senior Enchanter so that they have a better chance to stay connected with their families and learn the basics of magic in a more friendly environment. Unfortunately, the compromise was not perfect - afterwards, teenage mages must still spend at least 5 years in the Circle and go through the Harrowing. The same conditions apply to any mage who wants to work outside the Circle. The Harrowing is still required of every mage, except for those volunteering to be made Tranquil. As the Chantry is still guarding its independence from the country’s jurisdiction, the situation of Circle mages is not much better than it was under Irving and Gregoir’s rule,

- Circle mages working in cities slowly gain access to foreign spell books. While they're technically forbidden, the dangers of being caught with the wrong book - despite the Templars' supervision - are low,

- the Chantry still does not allow the Tranquil to work away from the Circle's control. They do not want to share the profits from the Tranquil's work,

- the fate of the apostates has not improved much, though not for lack of trying. Technically, under the new agreement, they could be hired outside the Circle but only after serving 5 years in Kinloch to “prove that they are worthy of trust”. Almost no one accepts those terms. Apostates still chiefly live in hiding, join the Mages' Collective or try to work as mercenaries,

- Grey Wardens are quite popular in Ferelden. The travelling units of Wardens are a welcome sight as stray darkspawn still appear above the surface. Queen Rein herself is often seen in the field with her most trusted companions,

- the first serious attempts at trade with the Dalish clans travelling through the Brecillian Forest have been made - in the first year after the battle of Denerim Alistair invited Sabrae clan to organize a trade meeting. It was agreed to take place in the outskirts of Brecillian Forest and last three days. King Alistair attended it personally to show his support for the Dalish (and to help prevent humans from assaulting or robbing the Dalish). During the event there were a few incidents where the royal guard had to intervene, but fortunately no one got hurt. Human merchants, at first, were interested more in getting close to the king and gaining his favor than anything else but they soon realized that the quality of Dalish products is simply astounding. The Brecillian Solace Market (as it was named) soon became an annual event,

- unfortunately, there is not much money left to spend on the military and the country's defenses. It is something that bothers Rein very much as even she has to admit that if Orlais wanted to attack again, Ferelden would be too weak to defend itself. It may sound cruel, but she gladly accepted the news of the conflict between Empress Celene and Gaspard...

...and then Dragon Age: Inquisition happens.

#rein cousland #alistair theirin #ferelden #headcanon #ask #thank you for asking!#BUT ALSO #thanks Karolina for proofreading you save my life

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seokiloquy · 3 years

Text

Coffee Diet - Kozume Kenma

AU: Tokyo Ghoul

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, Gore, some angst (Though both aren’t too heavy or graphic I think), probably a poor representation of the manga/anime cause I haven’t actually read/watched it all the way through despite wanting to

Word Count: 3.3k+

Kozume grunted. His kagune, the source of his inhuman power, made strikes at his cannibal attacker, forming a bone-like needle that stabbed down at the unknown ghoul. The concrete shattered like thick glass upon impact as the ghoul continued to dodge.

Tokyo (especially its many outskirt neighbourhoods) had a ghoul problem.

“You’re in the wrong territory if you think you can get away with that.”

The other ghoul only laughed, continuing his fast steps. The laugh itself was painful, scratchy and high pitched. It made Kozume wince.

The people of Kozume’s neighbourhood knew of the danger that lay waiting outside their doors, and thus an unspoken rule had been made among them. Don’t be outside past sunset. Those that did take a nightly venture typically were found mangled and half-eaten by morning. Broken bones peaking through bloodstained flesh, large bites taken out of their thighs, and torsos ripped open; delectable looking meal for a ghoul gone rouge. Kenma wouldn’t agree.

The dark alley that the ghoul had run into was walled off.

His opponent's black greasy hair hung over most of his face like a curtain, only letting a single black and red eye, and a sharp-toothed smirk poke through the strands. His hair swayed as he spun around.

“What does territory matter if there’s food to be had?” The ghoul screeched before his powered ghoul organ seeped out of his body and shot toward Kozume. It scratched his cheekbone, barely missing his eye, thankfully, but would take time to heal unlike any normal would.

Kozume hissed at the cut, willing his own kagune to slash at the ghoul who began climbing up the sides of the brick walls. The sharpened bone just missed the man’s food as he scurried over the ledge.

“See you later!”

The false blond stood there, yawning and rubbing his black and red eyes that were pinned to the building’s top. Heat from the rising sun began to warm his back. With the new light and extra heat, the tired ghoul raised his arms, stretching, as he took in his familiar surroundings. The port, or at least near it. Kozume stepped out of the alley to see the broken concrete that was left in his chase.

Another yawn escaped him before he tucked his hand in his red sweater’s pockets and walked the other way. He needed coffee.

Kuroo’s shop, as lovely of an atmosphere as it created, was in the middle of a garbage dump. It didn’t help that some of that outside aesthetic carried into the cafe itself. The bell pierced into Kozume’s ear canal as he opened the front door to the dingy sight. Stained counters, chipped porcelain, yellow lights that were so off-putting that they stayed off all the time. It’s always been dark and gloomy, until today.

“Welcome! Take a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

That’s new.

Kozume stood in the doorway, watching your form dance and sway behind the bar. He noticed the music playing, soft and completely unnatural for the cafe. Your uniform, definitely not assigned by Kuroo, was crisp and clean, black shirt sitting on your form nicely. It was modest and professional. Maybe not assigned, but definitely Kuroo’s style.

He watched as you placed a small cake at another regular’s table, patting the old man’s signature plaid jacket on the shoulder. Whatever you said made the man laugh and twirl his fork happily.

His golden eyes, now settled after his too-early walk from the destroyed park, were trained on you as he sidestepped over to his usual seat in the corner next to the window. He sat, and took his eyes off your bobbing head as you turned around. His brow furrowed. The table was clean. Kozume looked around the cafe, noticing the lack of dust and stains.

He didn’t see you drop off a cup of coffee at a table, or walk his way until you were right in front of him.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

He jumped in his seat, causing his bobbed hair to billow out for a moment. Oh no, the look in your eyes immediately told him that you could see his rosy cheeks. He coughed. “Black coffee, please.”

Your smile was perfect.

“Hey, Kenma!” An unlikely saviour with black spikey hair appeared from the doorway. Kuroo strode over and waved you down as he slid into the seat across from Kozume. “Ah you got a scratch,” he hissed, immediately putting pieces together in his head. His head turned your way. “Do you mind getting me a coffee too, (L/N)?”

Kozume’s eyes followed you as you placed your pen and notepad back into your pocket and walked toward the counter.

“(L/N)’s new, just started yesterday and all the regulars love the new energy already. So tell me, what happened?”

Kozume sighed, looking down at his hands. “More keep coming. One disappears and another shows up. I’m too tired for this.”

Despite his vague tone, Kuroo knew what Kozume was talking about and sighed immediately. He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be able to help you out soon enough, (L/N) has gotten a good hand on things, but I don’t want to leave them alone in the shop too suddenly. You understand.”

Kozume did understand. You, the human behind the counter, were a breath of fresh air in the musty town. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have. The demeanour of someone in the know in this neighbourhood wasn’t that positive. He knew that he wouldn’t get any help until you knew of the cafe’s main purpose.

“Take your time, I can handle it for how.” Kozume yawned and gestured to his marred cheek. “This guy might be a pain to deal with though.”

Just as he finished speaking the TV that hung above his head began to rattle on about destruction occurring at their neighbourhood’s port.

Kuroo winced. “That’s a pain, all right.”

Two white cups of black coffee hit the table's surface. Kuroo thanked you as you stood straight and reached into your apron’s pocket. Next to Kozume’s mug, you placed a large band-aid as you ripped open a disinfectant wipe. “May I?”

He nodded and let your fingers gently turn his chin in your direction. The wipe glided smoothly over his cheek but stung. He hissed and pulled his head back.

“Sorry, it’ll be over in a second, I’ll be quick. Can I finish?”

Kuroo stayed silent as he watched Kozume get cared for by his employee, only speaking when the barista left the younger ghoul’s side with a kind smile. “You’re blushing.”

“I will kick your ass,” Kozume sneered before lifting his mug up to his lips for a quick sip. “Why’d you hire a human anyway?”

Kuroo mirrored his friend’s actions and drank some of his well-brewed coffee. “They don’t hold any ill will toward Ghouls if that’s what you’re wondering, maybe a bit scared. But (L/N) is very kind.”

Kosume continued to yawn through their conversation, occasionally looking your way, only to immediately turn his head as soon as there was a chance of you catching his stare. He didn’t realize how long it went on until he heard your footsteps heading for the exit.

Kuroo twisted, resting his arm over the back of the chair to face you putting on your coat. “Walk home safe!”

“Will do!” Your smile glittered before you pushed the door open and walked through.

Kozume’s eyes continued to follow you through the glass until you turned out of sight.

“Do they live far from here?” he asked Kuroo, questioning his warning.

Kuroo slapped his hand on the table twice, gathering the energy to rise to his feet. He grabbed the long since empty mugs, whose stray coffee had begun to dry on the sides. “Only a 5-minute walk. But (L/N) has to walk through alleyways to save time, and well, even during the day, you can’t be too concerned for one’s safety.”

“Ah, Kozume! Black coffee again? Would you like some food with that?”

Kozume’s stomach churned at the thought of putting something other than coffee into his system. “I’m alright, just the coffee is fine. Thanks.” Hands stuffed in his pockets, he walked to his corner. “And Kenma is fine.”

“Then, please, call me (Y/N).”

The cafe smelled cleaner than the weeks prior. Cleaning solution seems to sit right under Kozume’s nose and punch him every time he breathed. Taking his seat, he immediately noticed the lack of smudges on the window.

Kozume tried to give you a kind smile as you set his cup of coffee on the freshly cleaned table. He could feel heat crawl up his neck and settle underneath the skin of his cheeks. He gulped, readying himself to separate his lips and speak.

“You seem drained, has work been alright?” You beat him to the punch.

“Ah ya, work.” He didn’t have a job. “It’s been alright, just a bit draining because of the night shift. How has school been?”

Kuroo was quick to get you both well acquainted after your first meeting. He carried conversations until Kozume was willing enough to speak for himself. The blond was thankful for that, knowing that if he had been left alone by your side no familiarity would have been built.

“Oh, the usual. I have a few assignments to finish but nothing too overbearing. I did read an interesting article about social relations and hierarchy of ghouls in society. It was a bit depressing but educational.”

Kozume choked on his coffee, hunching over the table as he lifted a fist to his mouth. Just as the ragged coughs began to subside he felt your hand gently rub his back, sending him into another fit of coughs.

“What’s the assignment about?” he asked, settling down.

He noticed the concerned look on your face as you pulled napkins out of your pocket and set them on the table. “Ah well, I’m studying public health and humanities, and my prof told us to choose a disadvantaged group to write about. Yada yada, so on so forth. I chose ghouls.”

He gestured for you to sit with one hand, waving at Kuroo with the other as he wiped down the main counter. You smiled and took the seat across from him.

“You believe ghouls are disadvantaged?”

Your brow furrowed, pondering. “Well ya, in some ways. Maybe not in strength and power, but ghouls are rather hated in society don’t you think?”

Once again, while preparing to speak, he was cut off by the overhead TV switching audio. Listening to the graphic words coming out of the reporter's mouth, Kozume sighed and raised a hand to push against his temple.

The distressed look on your face made him pause. A pit grew in his stomach as your concerned face turned to Kuroo, who was calling you back to your station. You were quick to bring back your smile. “Enjoy the coffee, and rest when you can.”

Kozume returned your smile meekly but was focused on the grotesque details the reporter listed, unable to stop himself from imagining you, defenceless, in that sort of danger. He couldn’t stomach the coffee.

“(Y/N), I really don’t think I should leave you here alone after dark.”

You sighed, looking to your boss with an unimpressed smirk. Kuroo squinted, lips pursing as he watched your knowing smirk turn humorous.

“Testu, don’t you have work to do at night? My walk home may be a lot safer, if you get to that, no?”

Kuroo cursed, punching the wooden counter with a dull bumping sound. He groaned. “How did you know?”

You laughed, shifting the position of your hands on the wooden poll and continuing to sweep the floor of the empty cafe. “I study! It may not be so obvious but don’t you think I’d pick up on you being a ghoul after a few weeks?”

“I mean maybe, but I was hoping you didn’t know!”

A light scoff shot off your tongue and through your teeth. “I would think you’d be relieved, now you don’t have to be so cautious around me.”

Kuroo picked up the washcloth he had been holding earlier off the counter and began to wipe the wooden surface down again. “No harm in caution. Even if you do know.”

“Ya, ya, just don’t show me a severed limb. I can’t do gore.”

Kuroo laughed and tossed the damp towel onto the edge of the metal sink. His arms shifted to his back to aunty the black apron around his waist. “Are you sure you’re okay here alone?”

The TV’s sound changed to the news’ intro tune as you grabbed the remote and turned it off. You gave the ghoul a warm smile. “I can handle it. Go go.”

The sun was already over the horizon by the time you were ready to leave. You stood on the inside of the door, punching in the pin code to the security lock. It beeped, giving you the warning to leave and lock the door. Once done, you pulled your sweater a little tighter on your shoulders and shoved your hands in the pockets.

You focused on the sound of your rubber souls stepping on the concrete and the occasional tick of a pebble getting kicked. Street lights flickered, or at least the ones that were working did. Walking upon a burnt out light, you took the marker to turn down the neighbouring alleyway.

Two steps in was all it took before you lifted the collar of your weather over your nose. The putrid smell wafted your way from the dumpster. “Ugh, it’s not garbage day tomorrow is it?” Setting closer towards the opposite wall, you help your breath and face forward. Until the burnt-out light flickered on.

You halted, head frozen forward as you looked out of the corner of your eye. Immediately your stomach churned and your throat began to pulse uncomfortably.

First, you noticed the pool of dark red blood that was slowly growing, nearing your shoes. Then it was pieces of loose skin and grey hair, stained as they floated in their puddle. Your heart seized at the sight of a ragged plaid jacket that was recklessly torn. You searched higher.

A single red iris surrounded by a black gloss stared at your profile. The rest was obscured by pin-straight greasy hair except for a large, inhuman smirk that showed off shark-like teeth covered in blood.

You cautiously removed your hands from your pockets, watching the poorly dressed skeletal like figure’s hunch move up and down as he breathed.

One beat.

You saw his claw-like fingers hold the wrinkly hand of the severed arm like a possessed lover. Your foot shifted.

Two beats.

The ghoul’s head tilted, revealing a tube-like pound of pink flesh hanging from his fangs. You gulped.

Three beats.

You ran.

Pulse already off the hertz, you sprinted with all your might to the flickering light at the other end of the alley. A stupid move, but taking the time to turn around wasn’t an option. Each step sent a jolt into your stomach. Your footsteps were much louder than before, but your blood was drowning it out. The lamp was so much slower now.

You froze suddenly. Stopped by a tug on your arm. Vertigo suddenly hit and the lamp was pulled further away. Then you recalled the tug, and noticed the increased pulsing in your arm, then felt your sweater become sticky and heavy. You looked to the side and down.

Were bones supposed to stick out like that?

You hardly registered it’s presence before the spike-like bone was torn from your limb, sending you into another fit of screams.

The light at the end of the alley flickered again, before going completely dark.

His heart raced, blood pumping through his ears like crazy.

“Calm down Kenma! You can’t go crazy like this!”

“I have every right! You heard that scream, didn’t you? It was (Y/N)!”

The blonde’s kagune went wild, thrashing about and nearly knocking Kuroo over in the process. Said ghoul didn’t flinch, only brushing away the agitated organ with a push of his own.

“I know, but you have to—”

He was off, launching into the air and onto the rooftops, following the smell of your spilt blood before Kuroo could finish his sentence. The black-haired man swore, quickly following suit.

The sight was expected, horrifying, but not surprising.

Whoever’s intestines were falling out of the ghoul’s mouth, Kozume couldn’t tell, but he wasn’t gonna let the ghoul he had been hunting get another chance to make a meal out of your body if he could help it.

“GET OFF!”

Something cracked as the long-haired ghoul’s body flew off yours, smashing against the brick wall of the alley. Kozumes sharp-pointed kagune pinned him through the stomach to the cracking brick.

He only gave you a glance. The sight made his stomach churn as if he were trying to eat a regular meal. Torn skin, visible bone, and blood everywhere. He wanted to vomit.

Behind him he could hear Kuroo’s feet land in the massive pool of blood, making it splash slightly. Their clothes would have to be trashed later.

Kozume gritted his teeth. Despite his boiling rage at you being injured, he managed to hold off his brutal assault against the bloodied ghoul until he heard Kuroo zip away with you in his arms.

Even in your current state, you’d be safer away from the scene.

“I don’t think (Y/N) is going to be able to work for a while.”

“Some of the regulars are spooked, but relieved.”

Whatever was holding your arm like a boa constrictor was making sleep really hard. You groaned. Why did your stomach hurt?

“Ah, look who’s up.” Kuroo’s voice was as teasing as always.

Your sight was blurry when you finally came to. The first thing you noticed was the aggressive pulsing in your arm and stomach followed by a warm hand on your shoulder. You tried to shift.

“Ah stupid, don’t do that.” Kozume’s voice, despite a slight rasp, was as gentle as ever.

You sighed and squinted towards Kuroo who stood at the end of — what you were quick to realize— was your hospital bed. His arms were crossed and the smirk he wore was humorous. “Kuroo, if you say a single word, I will gladly risk further injury to fight you.”

Kenma shut his eyes and rubbed your shoulder before reaching for a hot mug from your bedside table. Kuroo walked around to the opposite side to help you sit up. You watch a thick red sweater fall off your shoulders and onto your lap, in front of your bandaged stomach.

Kenma spoke quietly, “Your sweater was torn to pieces.”

“Like my body?” you joked, only to get a sour look from the man in return. “Sorry.”

He sighed again and handed you the steaming mug. “Here, drink this. You need food.”

Kuroo walked back to the end of the bed, letting Kozume take care of you from then on.

“Coffee is considered a food now?”

Kuroo let out a short chuckle, making you tilt your brow in his direction. Kozume coughed, placing the mug down quickly to lift his red sweater off of your lap. He draped it back onto your chest, tucking it between your shoulders and pillow, then slowly guiding your arms through the sleeves.

You rubbed your hands together for warmth as Kozume offered you the hot mug again. You took it, thanking him with a shining smile. You once again failed to notice the rosiness of his cheeks, even if Kuroo didn’t.

“You won’t be able to stomach anything else, sorry.”

Why did this take me so long to write…. Oh well. -Bacon

Posted: 14/02/2021

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