#and before anyone jumps to any conclusions and assumes my trauma has to do with my parents being deaf just no

[caelestis-composition]

killshot anon! YEAH i totally agree w/ your view on kaeya. it's so weird to me that people will blame him for his role in a situation he was forced into as a child through no choice of his own. that itself had to be traumatic, not to mention everything that happened later. i hate when people say he's untrustworthy - like yeah, he's lied, so has everyone? it's clear he does it mostly to protect himself. not to mention that (& sadism) can be symptoms of trauma. kaeya deserves nothing but happiness

take a seat folks it’s time for a “brynn should’ve been an english major” lesson! today we’re gonna learn some literary theory; specifically, we’re gonna apply psychoanalytical trauma theory to kaeya’s backstory and current character. killshot anon i bet you never thought this would result in a whole ass essay.

disclaimer one! you are allowed to dislike kaeya! i am not saying you need to like him or his character, you’re entitled to your opinion and i’m not here to change your mind.

disclaimer two! i am in no way an expert and this is all for fun! this is just my silly little analysis of one of my favorite characters as someone who’s studied literary theory and rhetoric and can also apply personal experience. seriously analysis is like a hobby to me and this is just an excuse for me to ramble about kaeya.

disclaimer three! this contains lots of spoilers! basically for everything we know in-game, general knowledge as well as stuff from his voicelines and character story. don’t read this if you don’t want spoilers.

since this is going to be filled with spoilers and is about to get really long, everything will be under a cut. for those who wanna read my dumb super informal essay: enjoy!

final note: yeah this is over 2000 words long can you tell i like analysis

⭒

let’s start by getting a quick rundown of trauma theory out of the way. to begin, what is “trauma?” in this case, trauma is going to refer to an experience that greatly affects and changes one’s life; attitudes, memories, behaviors, mental state, etc. while not all changes may be bad, per se, the overall effect of trauma is generally a negative one, which is why it’s so significant. literary trauma theory, then, explores these changes and the impact of trauma in literature. it analyzes the psychological and social effects of trauma, explaining what those effects are and why they happen. in the context of a specific character, trauma theory breaks down said character’s behaviors, feelings, and general mentality in relation to their past experiences; trauma theory hopes to explain to others the reasons for why a character may act or feel the way they do, all based upon the character’s experiences, particularly traumatic ones. our character today is the lovely kaeya alberich, with the “literature” being genshin impact. i’ll be referencing kaeya’s wiki page to ensure i get all details correct for his character story and voicelines.

it would be good to review kaeya’s backstory before delving into the actual analysis. though we don’t know much about his life before living in mondstadt, we’re told he was sent as an agent of khaenri’ah. and by “sent,” i mean his biological father abandoned him in a completely unfamiliar land to serve khaenri’ah’s interests and fullfil his mission—what this entirely entails hasn’t been revealed. mondstadt, however, welcomed kaeya “with open arms when they found him.” crepus ragnvindr took him in as his adopted son, with diluc as his adopted brother. kaeya and diluc were “almost like twins,” so close they “[knew] each other’s thoughts and intentions without a word.” he’d began a new life in mondstadt, one surrounded by friends and family that loved him; one that was completely shattered by crepus’s death. kaeya arrived at the scene of the disaster, and was led to believe diluc was the one who killed their father to “set his father free” from the effects of his delusion. there’d always been one big question in kaeya’s life: if it came down to it, who would he support? the nation that abandoned him, but he still felt loyal to, or the nation and family that took him in and really loved him? overrun with guilt, kaeya confessed his purpose to diluc, sparking a fight between the two brothers. in this fight, kaeya receives his cryo vision. though both brothers stepped away alive, they’ve never been able to make peace with one another. now, kaeya is the eccentric and charming cavalry captain of the knights of favonius; a man who gets his way by using any means necessary, regardless of whether or not it seems right.

kaeya’s not evil; he’s morally ambiguous, and that stems from what appears to be a general distrust of others. his life is one shrouded in secrecy. from the moment he stepped foot into mondstadt, he was surrounded by secrets. even now, he doesn’t talk about a lot of things, namely his past, vision, and feelings. though he’s always willing to get information out of others, kaeya never reveals anything about himself. he repeatedly tells the player they can confide in him, but whenever you try and pry into his life, he deflects your questions with some sort of witty comment or flirty remark. anything he does reveal is vague, or spoken in some sort of “code.” for example, his “interesting things” voiceline. he tells us about the owl of dragonspine, how it “seems to look right through you, while letting go of none of its own secrets,” and then tacks on a “quite fascinating, don’t you think?” it seems like an awfully accurate parallel to himself; kaeya does all he can to get information from others, but never gives anything about himself. now, this whole thing—his relationship with diluc falling apart and his need for secrecy—could have probably been avoided if he had just come clean about his mission years ago. so why didn’t he? to start, kaeya was a literal child. not only are children unable to properly tell the difference between right and wrong, but they’ll also typically follow their parents’ orders blindly. kaeya had just been abandoned, and he wouldn’t want to risk being cast out by mondstadt as well if he came clean right away. you see, there’s this thing about trauma, something that trauma theory states. traumatized people feel a sort of shame or guilt regarding their traumatic experience; they’ll keep quiet because they don’t want to cause problems or bother others with their issues. of course kaeya wouldn’t tell the truth about his past, he doesn’t want to destroy the genuinely loving relationships he’d built in mondstadt. his fight with diluc only proves what he was afraid of: if he’s honest, he’ll be abandoned again. and if kaeya’s used to all the lies, why should he bother changing?

another thing, if he’s not going to tell the truth, then why would he have initially gone along with his father’s plans? again, he was a child. he really had no choice, and was forced into a very wrong and cruel situation. there’s a good explanation for this, too, which is also stated in trauma theory; traumatized people will still do their best to please their abusers. especially if said abuser is a parent, that will drive traumatized people to work even harder to please them. although his father hurt him by ruthlessly abandoning him, kaeya still sought to make him and his homeland proud. he was willing to be used as a tool for their gain; that is, until he found people who actually cared about him. he was an impressionable child, of course he’s going to obey orders. but as he gets older, he feels torn. does he serve those who abandoned him, or those that took him in? his father—and arguably, khaenri’ah as a whole—hurt him, sure, but he still feels some loyalty and connection to his former home. instead of revealing anything, he lets the situation play out. that way, he can’t be blamed when things fall apart.

the thing about claiming he’s untrustworthy is that hardly anyone in-game believes that. he’s adored by the older folks in mondstadt, and foes and allies alike find him easy to talk to. despite seeming lazy and uninterested in work, kaeya takes his job very seriously. in fact, his story states that crepus’s death was the “first and only time kaeya failed in his duty.” the “only time” is especially important, because it signifies kaeya still fulfills his duties successfully. he’s had a total of one slip-up, and hasn’t failed since. no, kaeya is not untrustworthy. rather, kaeya finds everyone else untrustworthy. it’s not unlikely that this is a direct consequence of being abandoned as a child. although it’s been established that kaeya and diluc were very close as children, when crepus dies, kaeya assumes diluc is the one that killed him. in order to jump to such an extreme conclusion against someone he was so close to, there had to be some underlying sense of distrust. furthermore, kaeya expresses feeling as though he doesn’t belong anywhere. he was abandoned by khaenri’ah, and then worried he wouldn’t be accepted by mondstadt. he is, but there’s still that worry. if you place him in your teapot as a companion, he tells you that your home feels like someplace he belongs, following it up with a “heh, who’d have thought…” kaeya still feels as though he doesn’t belong in mondstadt; despite the fact that he’s a high-ranking knight of favonius and rather popular, he still feels like an outsider. he doesn’t trust that anyone actually wants him around, and he finds joy in testing peoples’ trustworthiness. it’s noted in his story and through his voicelines that the beloved cavalry captain has a rather sadistic nature. he likes putting people into difficult situations, to see what decisions they will make. he does this to both opponents and allies, testing to see who’s going to back out and who’ll keep fighting; in the sake of allies, who can he trust? or who will turn tail and abandon their teammates at the slightest hint of danger? i mentioned it previously, but kaeya doesn’t care what measures he has to take so long as his job gets done and he gets the answers he wants. it’s a sort of self-preserving mindset, putting himself above the safety of others. kaeya’s trying to protect himself, which makes sense with all he’s been through. he doesn’t want to be hurt, and instead finds pleasure in threatening harm upon others. it’s twisted, sure, but it’s because he can only trust himself in a world that he believes is out to get him. he’s got as many enemies—if not more—as he does allies; of course kaeya focuses on protecting himself first, whether physically or through keeping his secrets, well, secret.

his most obvious traumatic effect is definitely his alcoholism. but he uses it as a distraction, not just to wallow in self-pity. this is seen again in his story, particularly in story 3. it’s found that when his favorite drink, death after noon, is out of season, mondstadt’s crime rate is decreased drastically. at face value, this just means kaeya spends more time working when death after noon is low in supply. but kaeya doesn’t skip work to go to taverns; it’s already been established he takes his job very seriously, so this means he actually patrols and tracks down threats while off work when he can’t indulge in his favorite alcoholic drink. he doesn’t get drunk simply because he’s depressed. if he did, there wouldn’t be a drop in incidents when death after noon is out of season. no, kaeya uses both the alcohol and fighting to distract himself. after all, it’s a little hard to think about feeling sad when you’re either drunk out of your mind or fighting for your life.

despite being so secretive, kaeya gives us glimpses of his true emotions from time to time. as previously mentioned, his flirty attitude is nothing more than a mask to hide how he really feels; and kaeya is terribly, terribly lonely. that may be why he seems so extroverted. constantly being around people should, logically, drive away that feeling, but it doesn’t work like that. when he talks with the player, he frequently expresses disappointment when you have to leave. each time, though, he dampens the weight of his words with playful or flirty language. he’s lonely, but doesn’t want you to know that, like he’s afraid of asking you to stay. he takes the seriousness of his feelings, and basically bends it into some sort of lighthearted joke. kaeya hides his true feelings—negative feelings, to be exact—so that he doesn’t bother anyone. which is, again, something that happens with traumatized people. he displays that hesitance to reveal his true feelings, because there’s a shame or guilt that comes with his past. he doesn’t want to bother others or hold them back, so he puts on a smile and amps up the charisma. one other very important thing—but very small detail—i would like to note is his feelings toward family. his fell apart not even once, but twice, and kaeya still holds familial relationships in high regard. we know he doesn’t exactly care how he goes about getting his work done. he doesn’t pay attention to what’s “right” or “wrong,” so long as he gets what he needs. but one of his informants, vile, notes that the cavalry captain has one exception: he won’t work with those who threaten others’ families. in fact, kaeya claims those who do should be hunted down and destroyed. even though his own families have caused him so much pain—and he ended up estranged from both—he still understands the importance of having people who love you in your life. because he didn’t get that.

kaeya’s not evil. ultimately, as a knight of favonius, his goal is to protect others, because no one was there to protect him. and because no one was there to protect him, because he’s been hurt time and time again by people who were supposed to love him, kaeya has taken to protecting himself. he hides any and all negative feelings with a charismatic, friendly façade, because he thinks it’ll drive away his persistent loneliness. any “bad” actions of his were hardly his fault; he was forced into a life of secrecy and lies, and then abandoned by the first people who truly loved him. kaeya’s a multi-faceted, tragic character, one that toes the line between good and evil, and that’s what makes him so interesting.

#brynn yells #brynn answers #killshot anon #brynn's writing #genshin #genshin impact #kaeya #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 15 of 26

Title: Tehanu (Earthsea Cycle #4) (1990)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, Third-Person, Female Protagonist 

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 6/24/2021

Date Finished: 6/30/2021

Decades after The Tombs of Atuan, Tenar decided to settle down and live an ordinary life on the shepherding Isle of Gont. Now a farmer’s widow, she adopts a disfigured and horrifically abused child, who she names Therru. When a giant dragon deposits a grief-stricken Ged at her doorstep, Tenar finds herself in a strange situation as she cares for her old friend and her adopted daughter. But threats from Therru’s past and a malevolent force on the island soon threaten Tenar’s small family. 

Despair speaks evenly, in a quiet voice.

Content warnings and spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Violence and death. Mentioned murder. Severe child abuse. Descriptions of traumatic injury and disfigurement. Mentions of r*pe, including of children. Trauma, sexism, and ableism are explored in depth. 

Tehanu is a much different book than the trilogy that precedes it. Perhaps this is unsurprising, considering the 17-year gap between this book and The Farthest Shore. I’d describe the Earthsea series as “grounded fantasy”. While all of them take place in a magical world, the thesis of each book is universal; the fantasy always comes second. Tehanu takes this idea to an extreme. The story is about everyday life as a common woman in the Earthsea world, with fantasy barely factoring in. The pacing is intentionally slow and introspective, which is something I normally don’t like, but Le Guin is a consistent exception. 

Key characters from the previous books make an appearance. Obviously Tenar is the biggest return, absent since The Tombs of Atuan. The Tenar in this book is older and much more mature, having decided to live a simple life in spite of her adventures and accomplishments. Ged returns, but he’s a shell of his former self, as he mourns the loss of his magic and the man he used to be. Even King Lebannen (formerly Arren, the main character of The Farthest Shore) makes a brief appearance, and is quite a palate cleanser after the horrible men throughout the rest of the book.  

Probably my favorite aspect of the novel is the fact that these characters stand well on their own without magic to prop them up. Tenar explored the terrifying freedom she won in The Tombs of Atuan; got married, settled down, had kids — but still finds herself at a loss on what to do with her life after her husband dies. Ged is in a similar boat; he’s gone from an almost mythic character to an ordinary man, and like Tenar finds himself at a crossroads in life. Other characters embody this idea of transformation and uncertainty; Therru’s escaped her abusers and now has a loving mother, but what does the future hold for someone with her appearance? Stuff like that. 

The idea of metamorphosis and new beginnings is well-trodden. But what makes Tehanu interesting is Le Guin primarily examines this with the middle-aged characters. Tenar and Ged are legendary figures in the world of Earthsea, but life has taken them to an uncertain future. The thrust of the novel lies in finding a purpose and becoming someone new. I also like that Tenar/Ged is endgame; I got Vibes from The Tombs of Atuan, but neither character was in a position where it would work. Seeing them form a romantic relationship much later in life is touching and cute. But it’s not the reason that either of them grow as people; finding one’s purpose is something one has to do on their own. Their relationship only develops once both parties have done so.   

My main complaint about A Wizard of Earthsea, the first book, is the sexism inherent in the setting, which is never examined below the surface level. Perhaps Le Guin’s outlook changed, or perhaps the publishing environment did, because often Tehanu reads like a response to this criticism. The central theme of the book is misogyny, the patriarchy, and its debilitating effects on women. Le Guin examines everything from micro-aggressions (“common wisdom” that happens to paint women as inferior) to domestic issues (“women’s work” and how much that actually is) to outright sexual assault (both in threats and actual acts; it is heavily implied this is part of the abuse Therru endured). She even goes into how powerful women are only considered as such because a man gave them that power. 

While I appreciate the fact she addresses these issues in such a frank, blatant way, at times reading Tehanu felt like reading a basic feminism primer. These subjects are all things I’m familiar with, and I feel like anyone who’s studied key feminist ideas would be aware of them also. Maybe 1990 was different? Le Guin doesn’t add any insights to the bleak reality of patriarchy and sexism, which is a little disappointing compared to previous books. That being said, this book is aimed at young adults despite its dark subject matter. Tehanu could be the first exposure to these ideas that many children receive; looking at it that way, it makes sense that the analysis comes off as basic. 

I also found the book’s examination of gender to be very cishet-normative. That’s definitely not surprising, considering the book was published in 1990, but to a 2021 reader this hasn’t aged super well. There’s a lot of discussion about the relationships and differences between men and women--whether there are any or not, how magic differs between them, the ability to bear children, and so on. There’s a weird sexual component to this, like how wizards (who are exclusively men) have to remain celibate in order to… keep being wizards? But women who are witches don’t have to do that, and that’s an advantage women have? (There’s mentions of male witches too, iirc, but it’s not expanded upon— do they have to remain celibate? Who knows.). I found this whole bit pretty odd and unnecessary, although I realize a lot of my perspective on the matter comes from a modern view of sex and gender (and, y’know, being trans). Not all the gender takes in the book are bad, but they are limited. 

I found Le Guin’s exploration of trauma and ableism through Therru to be more interesting. There’s a lot of examination about how society treats Therru, a survivor of unspeakable abuse. Her trauma is visible due to severe burns along part of her body, leaving her with a missing eye and disfigured hand. Tenar spends much of the novel wondering what future Therru has; no matter how capable she is and how much she acts like any other little girl, strangers gawk at her, or assume she “deserved” what happened to her. Therru becomes happier and more independent over the course of the novel, but relapses into a traumatized state when she encounters one of her abusers. As a survivor, it’s heartbreaking and distressingly realistic. As much as I like Tenar, I almost wish the novel was from Therru’s perspective (other than the brief jump at the end), but I realize it would spoil the ending.  

I’m torn on the ending because, while I thought it was cool and had some interesting revelations, it’s a jarring tonal shift. As I mentioned, Tehanu is a slow novel with a heavy focus on everyday life, and the trials and tribulations both Tenar and Therru experience. There’s even a climactic event a few chapters before the end; the only thing left is a persistent loose thread from earlier in the novel. That subplot explodes to the forefront a bare chapter and a half before the end of the book, and a lot of action-y fantasy stuff happens. It doesn’t come out of nowhere; it’s set up throughout the novel, but it is sudden. 

That being said, I do like that the subplot with dragons vs humans is hinted at as early as The Tombs of Atuan. When Tenar tells the legend about the origin of dragons early in the story, my mind immediately went to that one room from the Labyrinth with the sad winged humanoids painted on its walls. I’m curious if there are hints elsewhere in the series. I also figured out Therru’s true name and how she relates to that subplot based on context clues. While it’s not a shocking twist, it is a satisfying one. Though parts of it gave me a “magical destiny” vibe which is counter to much of the series so far; I do wonder how the last two books will address this. (Also… did Le Guin imply Kalessin is Segoy? AKA God? What did she mean by this. So Ged literally like… hitched a ride from God, who promptly yeeted out of the story until the end? That’s kind of funny. Maybe I misinterpreted something.) 

I probably sound critical of this book, but I did genuinely enjoy it. It just didn’t speak to me the way the previous two did. The next book is a short story collection before the conclusion to the series, so we’ll see where it goes! Tehanu set some stuff up that I expect will be expanded upon in these volumes.

#8/10 #taylor reads #2021 reading challenge

[seoafin]

tbh,, i havent read the raws of the interview yet, only the translated ver from fan-translator and b4 i start, i think that this will be just me talking in circle and in no particular order AND a real mess (my brain does weird things after exams) but uhh here we go

gojou collects talented people, and by doing so he finds the people he can most probably relate to, except that he can't, not really, because something in the universe shifted when he was born. and it makes me think of how he's always known it, that he is special, and he's proven it, time and time again— he wants to take in talented ppl and he does, but there rly isn't much he can do for them. for they are talented, more talented than the world can understand,,

but they aren't gojou satoru

gojou took in megumi, bc he knew megumi was strong, and would grow up to be someone even stronger, but gojou can't facilitate or encourage his growth, bc for all they're similar, they are so fundamentally different. ALSO,, while geto was in his life, gojou rly judged everything according to his understanding of geto’s moral compass. gojou wears a human suit and geto is how he learnt to wear it well 🏃

the dragonfly analogy regarding to geto’s response to gojo, who was shown wearing a dragonfly patterned yukata in HI arc,, i’m trying to not think abt the fact that dragonfly symbolized victory in jpn....pain. i quoted from a web here for more explanation : In Japan the dragonfly is known as the "victory insect", or kachimushi, because of its hunting prowess and also because it is known to never retreat. Dragonflies are agile and fast fliers and can even hover, but never fly backwards

and bringing this up again, matricide and patricide are 2 of the 5 worst act to commit in buddhism, and it was said that if u commit one of those act u’re going to spend a real long time in the deepest pit of hell before continuing the samsaric cycle (higher chances to be born as an animal after that probs)— this might be geto’s divine retribution. held no power over his own body and could be considered that he’s the same as those “monkeys” 💀

ALSO the fact that sukuna's interest is "eating" rly drives home his hedonistic philosophy of seeking pleasure for himself. and he’s a cannibal...makes me think if he’ll just chomp on ppl with the mouth on his stomach

randomly, to date i think he hasn't really called himself a human, shaman, or a curse, and has held himself apart from all 3, and we've also the intro of the cursed wombs so i wonder if he’s trying to become, or is, a different entity altogether

so onmyoji got mentioned in the interview and what they practice is called onmyodo and abe no seimei and kano no yasunori were the notable practitioners,, and the kamo in jjk is the same as irl who served the imperial court back then

maybe i was right when i said that the relation between the govt. and jujutsu elders are similar to how the shogunate and imperial court work (ie, the former holds the actual power) but... lets see later,,

and i cant believe that i actually nailed it on the analogy of jujutsu practices by religion,,, so mahayana buddhism, shintoism, and taoism is present in jjk along with their respective jujutsu practices...but between the 3, it shld (?) be taoism > shintoism > mahayana buddhism (which could took a path to pure land buddhism)

it’s weird that the number of curses are supposedly higher in jpn comparable to other countries when taoism was brought from china....tengen sus

so the zenin family tree is sth like :

brothers: [toji's dad] ; naobito ; ougi

so toji, naoya, and maki & mai are cousins of the same generation

[toji's dad] → jinichi (probs) ; toji → megumi

naobito → other brothers, naoya

ougi → maki, mai

but yea i’d call anyone who’s within/close or below my age range as cousins and others above 30 as uncles/ aunts LMFAO,, i dont rly memorize my own family tree 😭😭 especially since most call the other by honorifics instead of names : aunt, uncles etc or attaching said honorifics at the end of a name for an older sibling figure/ older cousins [but like ppl in my country also call the other who are older with sibling honorific even if we’re strangers,,, rly similar to korea’s hyung/oppa—eonnie(unnie)/noona but some uses more genderless honorific] (1)

tw // topic of incest, mentions of abuse

if anyone got the wrong idea when reading this : i am not glorifying/ romanticising incest(uous themes),, i’m looking at this with absolutely no lenses of bias even tho im rly against it

初恋 = literally : first love, or puppy love

恋 = romantic love/ deep longing

i literally don't know how else to put this...🧍and with language barrier...using a western interpretation of the eng word "love" to explain a jpnese term is not quite that simple, unfortunately

that thread omg,, i rly do understand how exactly someone could associated kindness with love bc of my upbringing, it was when i was slightly older that i was just...oh so its not like that orz,,, so the most plausible explanation would be that

but the problem is that,, akutami never specify when exactly she had a crush on them,, and when megumi answered todo’s question she had a “♡” reaction 😶,, uhmmm there’s rly no way to look past this if its this way or be in denial

i’ve seen some of "why wouldn't mai react that way after hearing megumi say he'd like someone who's compassionate when she's surrounded by men like naoya",, well I MEAN,,, that, but also mai probs admires that megumi grew up so well out of the clan, regardless of the fact that he had the foundation (10 shadows) to do so. imo she seems happy for him the way she can't be for maki, bc maki ultimately had to leave her behind

hate to say it but yea,, the 3 clans most likely still practice inbreeding in order to preserve their power and presumably their wealth too 😀

i had an idle thought abt it at first but i filed it deep in the back of my mind asap,, bc i ont wanna jump to conclusion abt this out of all things too early. it’s probably not even in jjk, but all those elite clans in other ani/mangas that produce powerful heirs and whatnot also do the same,,, but this way of (my personal) thinking was influenced when i first got into tsukihime (type-moon),,, i read abt the nanaya family background and found out that they practice that in order to keep their bloodline “pure” (to keep it short : they have an optical power),, and i had this kind of assumption ever since so there’s that

i’m,, convinced the zenins' inbreeding made it more difficult for them to get powerful shamans bc they got 2 jujutsu technique-less children with heavenly restrictions in the same generation: toji & maki

even more convinced that maki might be a bit stronger than toji bc toji could see curses without aid while maki can't so the pay-off must be higher,,, SJJASN IDK ,,, plus naoya sort of implies his older brothers are nothing compared to him, and idk if we should take that as his arrogance or that his older brothers rly are weak/powerless. it would make sense as to why naobito had a lot of sons, ig, as head of clan

i feel so bad that if one of the factors that can caused heavenly restriction is inbreeding,, toji and maki and mai had no say in how they wanted to be born but are scorned for it,, typical asian families projecting their traumas and ideals onto their kids but get mad when they realize that those ideals are ugly...😁😁😁

since the zenin are conservative,, i wonder if they still hold onto old jpnese dining traditions. where in ancient jpn, hierarchical relationships were made readily apparent even within families. a dining table where everybody sat down and ate as equals would be unheard of. rather, each individual is given their own table that indicates their status,,, someone who is not considered “strong” according to the zenin’s views most likely have no place at the table, and probs eat when those who are “strong” finished/ serve them when they are eating

if toji was tossed into a swarm of curses,, i dont think abuse during said time is below them,,,

the zenin clan was already great, but they further amassed power and strength by, what i assume to be, marrying and adopting powerful individuals into the clan 🤔 ,,, i imagine they're like the hiiragi but without doing what they did to shinya (ons reference)

BUT after all that, i like to think that since akutami’s a big horror fan, jjk might be an outlet to explore said topics or even darker ones, so i wouldnt be that surpised abt it. given that there’s more than enough “red flags” before this was dropped : a reference to “tale of hikaru genji” when a grown woman asked for gojou’s number in HI arc (out of all things); granny who transformed into the man’s daughter, sat on his lap and man just touched her waist; mei mei and ui ui ; and...this (incestous theme is in the novel btw)

lets not start with whatever the fuck in kubo’s head in the interview otherwise i’m writing paragraphs with every curse words possible,, those big 3 mangakas are so— UGH,, a planet w out (cis) men like him sounds real good rn 😌 if one of yall out there decide to do it,, pls hmu rly cant do this shit anymore

akutami said i like my men pretty and i like women who will step on my neck and spit in my face (I REMEMBERED TATSUKI FUJIMOTO’S INTERVIEW WHEN HE WAS ASKED ABT MAKIMA AND IT WAS SO 😭😭😭😭) but ykw,, love that for both of them <3

when i said 3 : one piece, bleach, naruto. aside from the blatant depiction/ characterize of women in those 3,, idk if some ppl arent aware yet but oda is friends with two (2) convicted pedos,, man...the major disappointment and disgust when i first find out abt it

anyways this is just my 2 cents (which i think rightfully belong to the trash can) so pls just take this w a lil to no grain of salt - 🐱

YEAH THE ♡ LMFAO I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A “good answer ♡“ heart BUT NOW IM RE-EXAMINING?????

honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if the three clans practiced inbreeding. but ik people are going to be  😡😡😡😡😡 about it when the queen of fucking england is literally married to her (something) cousin. i’m not justifying it but like....love the double standards, just as always with the west 😍

DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING PED* LIST THEY SHOULD ALL BE IN JAIL. JAILLLLL. it’s all so gross. that’s why i fucking hate when people look towards manga for positive representation because the chances of that are super slim to zero, especially since the industry is saturated with misogyny and ped******* and a lot of other gross stuff.

i think ppl forget jjk is a horror manga LOL so obviously it’s going to confront darker themes. the question is whether it’s going to be done tastefully or not......

#honestly I don't have high hopes unfortunately 😭 #but who knows I might be...pleasantly surprised #idk I don't have high hopes in manga nowadays so hmmm #anyway as always I enjoy ur thoughts <3 ❤️❤️ #hope ur doing well!!! #and getting all those genshin impact goodies #🐱 anon #long post

[banashee]

It's midnight where I am, which means it's technically the 21st already 😁 Hi Folks, welcome to my fourth fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :)

@archivalpride

   Archival Pride 2021, Week four (June 21-28) Prompts: comfort, childhood, research, missing scene, statement

   The key words I've used here are comfort, research (and arguably missing scene depending how you look at it)

So, this wasn't supposed to get nearly as long as it ended up being. But I enjoyed wirting this a ridiculous amount, and I hope you can find a bit of joy, comfort or anything else you're seeking as well.

-

Please mind the tags and content warnings for this one! It’s quite a bit heavier than my other entries for the Archival Pride 2021.

Content warnings: - Trauma, Grief - PTSD / Panic attacks - violent canon death of a sibling - coping - Nightmares - Canon-typical violence - Canon-typical Clowns / The Stranger - Death of a loved one - Canon-typical violence and thoughts of violence - Past underage kissing between consenting teenagers (nothing graphic and very PG) - breif internalized Bi-Phobia in the past - brief mention of past Ace-Phobia - strong language - TMA season 3 spoilers, even though this story is set pre-canon.

-

 Whispers in the Dark

 The first time Tim meets Jonathan Sims is when he sets down a small cardboard box and a stack of files onto a desk. More precisely, his own new place at the desk he just got assigned.

 Tim just started out with his new job and he smiles, even though he is barely holding himself together at this point. He hopes no one will ask too many questions - it’s not like he plans on telling anyone what made him seek out the institute in the first place. It’s way too personal, and way too much to handle.

 So he’d lied in the job interview, spun some story about wanting a new challenge. Mr. Bouchard didn’t question it, and Tim would like to think that is because his CV and education are rather high quality, which he isn’t shy about. Not at all - he is proud of his achievements, and rightfully so. But Tim can’t shake the feeling that his new employer had looked at him oddly, like he knows something that no one else does. It had been deeply unsettling, and if Tim thinks too much about it, it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up straight.

 Despite his gut feeling telling him something else, Tim decides to chalk it up to nerves and his… Current situation, so to say. He is more jumpy, more paranoid than he used to be, which isn’t surprising. He has seen things, lived through things that he wouldn’t know how to explain if anyone asked. But overthinking it won’t get him anywhere.

 So, he puts on a bit of the show, something that looks like his usual happy-go-lucky personality. Loud, brash, flirty and wicked smart, just like he always has been. It feels incredibly fake to him, but then again, no one here knows him. No one has ever met him before… Before. They don’t know.      They don’t know    . None of them ever sees him when the mask falls, home alone, in a house that feels too big and too empty with Dany gone and - no.

     “Don’t go there, Stoker, just don’t. Get through the day, see what you can find out and go home. Get back tomorrow, rinse and repeat. You can do this.”     he tells himself and plasters on a smile that almost hurts.

 As he sets down the box and his files, he greets his new coworker and desk-neighbor.

 “Hi, I’m Tim, nice to meet you!” (      “be happy, sound happy, god dammit”     he thinks, then reminds himself that this guy won’t know the difference.)

 The man on the desk opposite of him looks up from his computer which he’d previously looked at with intense concentration. It seems to take him a moment to catch up, then he nods and there is the hint of a very small smile on his face.

 “Oh, erm, hi. Welcome.” he says, like someone who isn’t used to interacting with too many people. And maybe he isn’t - Tim wouldn’t know. He almost moves on and accepts that he won’t get a name from his new desk neighbor, but then he hears him say,

 “Jonathan. Jon is fine, too.”

 And then, as if he never said anything, he focuses back onto the screen in front of him and starts typing furiously.

 “Thanks!” Tim says, probably just a tad too loud and too enthusiastically, but he doesn’t get a response this time. Okay, awkward. He isn’t sure if Jon is ignoring him or if he just doesn’t realize that he is being talked to - judging from the very brief, first impression of him that Tim got, both options might be entirely possible.

 As the days go by, they don’t interact a lot besides basic politeness and the occasional question or comment about something work related.

 The first time Tim ever really talks to Jon, is when he witnesses the man climb a bookshelf in the library like a fucking tree. No kidding. Tim blinks, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a real, genuine laugh bubble up in his chest. What the hell? He steps closer, next to the large, antique bookshelf that his coworker is currently clinging to, pulling books from a shelf that is over his head still.

 “Jon, hi.” Tim says, watching the scene in front of him unfold. This is not something he expected, least of all from the coworker who never seems to say or do anything mildly interesting. So much for the first impression - the second impression is something entirely different, and it is this very moment that Tim decides that he likes the guy.

 The sound of Tim’s voice addressing him directly makes Jon turn his head.

 “Hi. Can I help you?” he asks, brusk and matter of fact, as if there wasn’t anything odd about this situation.

 “...I was going to ask you the same?” Tim offers, mildly amused as he finds himself kind of impressed when Jon manages to shrug with his hands full like that. While clinging to the shelf, because what even?

 “No. Why? I’ve already got what I need.” Jon jumps down from the wooden board he’d been standing on, and it is only now that Tim realizes they’d been on eye level before. Now… Not so much. They never stood next to each other up until this moment, he realizes.

 He’s only been here for about a week, but whenever Tim arrives at the office, Jon is already there, at his desk and working. He never gets up for lunch, only ever seems to leave the room to pick up or drop off books from the library, and by the time everyone else has left, Jon remains seated at his desk. If he wasn’t changing out his clothes, Tim would have been convinced that Jonatahn Sims simply plugs himself into a wall socket to recharge for the next day. Or maybe sleeps under his desk or something.

 “Just… You know what, nevermind.” Tim has come to the very correct conclusion that he better just accept this as it is. It seems easier. Much, much easier than arguing with someone over nothing, even though Tim feels like punching a wall or two some days. But that is not his coworkers fault, and he doesn’t want to mess up the chance to get to know him because he is cute.

 Tim doesn’t even question this train of thought anymore.

 At some point in between meeting the man for the very first time and… well, this, he must have filed away the odd combination of grandfather cardigans, chipped dark nailpolish and neatly tied up hair, combined with that deep warm voice and decided that yes, this person is attractive.

 To be fair, it doesn’t take Tim long to fall for people - it never has. He just didn’t expect to spend any time really      looking     at someone, now that his life has gone sideways in so many horrible ways.

 Turns out he’d been wrong.

 Finding something attractive about a person, no matter their gender or any physical attributes, is the easiest thing in the world to Tim. Ever since he can remember, he has enjoyed looking at people. Tim likes soft curves just as well as sharp angles, and has spent many many hours of his life getting lost in people's eyes. Sometimes, he’d caught himself staring when talking to a friend, losing himself in the depth of warm brown eyes with specks of gold, watery blue, light grey or green with specs of hazel and anything in between.

 Tim vividly remembers a game of spin the bottle when he was a teenager and sat on the floor with a group of friends and classmates. Of course, there had been many dares to kiss someone, and he had happily taken them whenever possible.

 At the time, Tim wasn’t sure about himself at all, because he’d only known that he finds people attractive, but all everyone around him had talked about was if you were gay or straight, if the question was even asked. Mostly, they just assumed whatever seemed convenient at the time.

 No one tells Tim about the meaning of the word “Bisexual”, or even about the word itself until he is in college. But he knows how he feels, even though he is lacking the word for it for many years

 Once he finds out, Danny is the first person he tells about it. Tim calls him that same night, sitting in a quiet corner of the dorm as he excitedly tells his little brother that he found a word to relate to himself and his feelings for other people.

 “There are other people who feel that way, Danny. There is nothing wrong with me and there is a word for it!” he tells him in a hushed but excited voice, fumbling on a loose thread in a hole of his jeans. Those trousers have long been frayed into shreds but Tim refuses to part with them.

 His voice is shaking with excitement, and he may or may not be holding back happy tears. This is a big moment for him, and because Danny is literally the best - not just because he answered his phone at fuck-o-clock in the morning when his brother called - he reacts with nothing but support.

 “I might have a few questions, but I love you. No matter what. I’m happy for you.” he tells him, and in that moment, Tim couldn’t be happier or prouder of his younger brother.

 The game of spin the bottle a few years earlier was the one of the first things that taught Tim that he finds many many things to be interested in and attracted to. It taught him that he is attracted to the many different ways people feel, and it hasn’t changed ever since.

 Over the years, Tim finds himself falling in love quick and hard with a number of people, and none of them are ever the same. Each and every person is unique, in their looks and size and voice and feelings - and every single one is loveable just as they are.

     “You        do         have a thing for certain types of voices though.”    Tim thinks, and maybe that is the culprit here, now that he is standing in the library of the Magnus Institute and faced with Jonathan Sims, who looks up at him with one raised eyebrow. Oh shit, has he been staring the entire time?

 Before Tim can think too much about it, or god forbid, overthink it, he hears his mouth blurt out without his brains permission,

 “So do you want to come to lunch later? There is a café not far from here that I’ve never been to.”

 Jon stares back for a moment, like this isn’t something he expected. Truth be told, he didn’t. But just when Tim starts thinking that he’ll decline, Jon nods slowly.

 “Yes, I suppose. Just… Let me know before you’re going. I tend to, well, I tend to get lost a bit when I’m working and chances are I won’t notice how much time has passed.” he explains, and this is probably the first time he said anything personal besides his name.

 “Sure, no problem. I’ll just put a giant sticky note on your monitor.” Tim offers him with a grin and wink, and as he turns around, he could swear that he catches a real smile on Jon’s face.

 Tim actually does put a note on Jon’s screen though. As he was warned, all attempts to verbally get his attention have failed, so Tim scribbles a quick note for Jon.

 The sticky piece of paper is bright pink and obnoxious, and all that Tim has written on it is “Lunch time!” in big bold letters, accompanied by a smiley face. He manages to walk up behind Jon, stick it right in the middle of his computer monitor and get back around to his own desk to gather his jacket and wallet before Jon squints at it through slim, rectangular glasses and blinks a few times before he remembers the conversation from earlier. Then, there is a small hint of a smile on his face, very similar to the one Tim caught in the library earlier.

 He gathers his things and leaves the office with Tim, and the two of them walk next to each other comfortably as they make their way to the café.

 Surprisingly, the lunch break together isn’t nearly as awkward as it could be, or should have been, really. Jon doesn’t talk much at first, and Tim has a feeling he himself is talking way too much without actually saying anything, just so his brain doesn’t drift off into the wrong direction. But then, it’s like the air has left his lungs and there is a minute or two of slightly awkward silence.

 Then, Jon clears his throat and asks,

 “So, did you know that snails can sleep for three years at a time?”

 When Tim, surprised by the question, shakes his head, Jon starts talking about the topic in great detail as he fiddles with the edge of his napkin the whole time. Somehow, this of all things breaks the ice, and Tim finds himself to be able to breathe a little bit easier.

 Even more so, he is enjoying this. He isn’t sure what he expected when he asked Jon to join him for lunch. Maybe it was just the urge for human interaction and to not be alone, which he supposes is fair enough. But he certainly didn’t expect random information about nature phenomenons. All Tim knows is that he feels better after their first break together, and after that, spending the break together becomes A Thing.

 What he learns pretty fast is this: Jon is an info dumper when he feels comfortable enough to do so. As it turns out, Jon isn’t very picky with his topics, either. They range from science phenomena to weird, interesting nature facts and anything else that catches his interest.

 Tim also learns that, if he is in the right company and being asked the right questions, he can hold monologues that could last for hours. He figures that one out when Jon drops a fun fact about 19th century architecture, and without thinking, picks up the loose end of the sentence and continues,

 “Oh, yes, did you know that…” and thus, without even realizing it, Tim spends the entire lunch break talking about it - he is passionate about the topic, but he leaves out the details about the Covent Garden Theatre. It just hurts too much to think about, but other than that, Tim is excited about the topic. He gets so carried away and rambles on and on and on, he only stops when Jon and him get back to the institute. It takes even longer for Tim to catch up and realize that Jon just paid for both lunches while he went off on a monologue about Robert Smirke architecture. But when he tries to pay him back, Jon just waves him off.

 “Don’t worry about it. Besides, your lecture was very interesting, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

 From anyone else, this might have been a dig - but coming from Jon, Tim knows by now, it is a genuine statement that makes him way happier than it should.

 So, their lunch breaks together quickly turn into a tradition,

 Tim isn’t entirely sure what is more surprising; the fact that he manages to get Jon to actually leave his desk for human needs like food and social interaction, or that the two of them are enjoying it so much.

 Sometimes, they go to cafés or restaurants, trying out places that neither of them has been to before. It turns into them picking favourites, and then they become regulars at a small handful of places. Sometimes they simply go on a quick walk to pick up some food, other times they sit down and enjoy being out of the office for a little bit.

  One day, Tim arrives in the office early, and he brings lunch from home for Jon and himself for the first time.

 Tim has spent the previous night wide awake, unable to rest after a nightmare startled him out of a deep sleep. It takes a long time to get his breathing back under control, and very late at night, or very early in the morning, depending how you look at it, Tim gives up on sleep. After hours of useless tossing and turning, he won’t be able to rest, he knows from experience.

 Cursing under his breath, he pulls aside the covers and takes a few deep, shuddering breaths. Exhausted, both in a physical and emotional sense, he scrubs a hand over his face.

 The memories linger, and Tim feels like his whole chest is pulled together with anxiety and grief. Seven months. That’s how long it has been since he found Danny sitting in his dark living room in the middle of the night, crying silent tears as he had no idea what to do besides be there for him and offer comfort. Seven months since he followed his younger brother to the Royal Opera House Covent Garden and had to watch him being torn apart.

 Carefully, Tim forces himself to keep breathing as evenly as possible. In - hold - out - hold - in - rinse and repeat. His hands are shaking, and he tries to force them into stillness as he grips hard at the rumpled bed sheets.

 Attempting to go back to sleep is useless, he knows from experience, and so he makes his way down into the kitchen.

 This house feels too big, too empty without the presence of his little brother. He left a hole in his life, and even though it’s been months since Danny died, Tim hasn’t moved a single one of his possessions. Not yet - it hurts too much.

 Despite having been alone for a while now, Tim is still careful to leave the lights  out in the hallway, walking as quietly as he can in the middle of the night as if there was still someone around he could wake up with his movements. It’s a long standing habit, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever shake it off.

 It’s only when he arrives in the kitchen that Tim switches on the overhead light. It flickers to life, slowly, and the small kitchen is tinted into a warm light. Warm and homely, like this house once was. Now, it just feels painfully empty.

 With a long sigh, Tim makes his way to the sink and fills up a glass with water - his hands are still shaking and he spills a bit onto himself, but he doesn’t care. Caring about it is too much right now, so he focuses on draining the glass empty before refilling it again. He feels dehydrated, but given the night he’s had so far, it isn’t surprising.

 “I need a distraction.” he mumbles, and soon enough, he’s raided the pantry and his refrigerator. Tim pulls  out some pots and pans from the cupboard, scattering everything throughout his kitchen where it’ll be most convenient. The repetitive tasks of cooking have always had a relaxing effect on him, and soon enough, the room is filled with scents and aromas that make his mouth water. Even now, while he is absolutely miserable.

 The casserole ends up being huge. It’s way too much for one person, even one with an appetite. But cooking for one after being used to there being someone else is hard - kind of useless, while you’re already at it.

 Tim has had that problem ever since he’s been cooking on his own, but knowing that Danny will be back to join him again, freshly back from some cave diving or urban exploration or whatever other strange new hobby he’d found at the time.

 Now, Tim is all on his own. He sighs unhappily. Cooking was a good distraction, up until he is painfully reminded that no one is there anymore to share it with. Not here, at least.

 He allows himself a few minutes of quiet greif, seated at the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a lukewarm cup of tea, sitting on the table by his side, almost forgotten.

 By the time the sun is starting to rise, Tim is up and moving again. He has put the casserole in several plastic boxes and packs two of them into his work bag.

 When he arrives at the office, way earlier than he usually does, because what is the point of staying home doing nothing, Tim places one of the boxes at the edge of Jon’s desk.

 Jon seems to be mildly surprised by the early company, and even more so by the plastic box.

 “Oh, Good morning... What is this?” he asks then, mildly curious.

 “Lunch. I was cooking last night and it was way too much. Thought I’d bring some in to share.” Tim forces a smile along with the half-lie, if only to cover how tired he is. He needs coffee.

 The “Thank you” Tim gets in response is equally surprised and genuine, and he tries very carefully to not interpret too much into it. Especially because their shared meal feels a lot more homely and strangely intimate that day. Getting takeout together or sitting somewhere is one thing, but sharing a home-cooked meal is something entirely different, he finds. He also finds that he doesn’t mind it.

 Only a few days later, conveniently when every last bit of the casserole is gone, Tim finds a plastic box that isn’t one of his own sitting on his desk. Curiously, he opens it and finds it filled to the brim with homemade curry, rice and veggies. Even cold, it smells heavenly and makes his mouth water. Tim looks over to the desk opposite of him, where Jon is already typing away like he usually does, but when he looks up and finds Tim smiling brightly at him, he smiles back.

 Something in his chest feels incredibly warm and fluttering.

 One evening, when the two of them get out of the office equally late - Jon because he always does, and Tim because he may or may not have waited for him - they walk to the tube together.

 In a spontanous fit of bravery and “Oh well, fuck it”, Tim carefully rechaes out until his own fingers gently brush against Jon’s as they walk. It’s dark outside, only illuminated by the countless lights that illuminate the shops and pubs and the sides of the street they’re walking along. Tim does so casually and carefully enough to be ignored or taken as a coincidence if needed be, just in case. But then his heart almost stops for a second when after a moment of stiffness, Jon accepts the offer and closes his own fingers around Tim’s.

 His touch is light at first, but then his grip tightens a bit, warm and comfortably so, and it is clear that his heart is in it. Of course it is - the two of them have gotten close in the last few weeks and months. There might have been some wishful thinking on Tim’s end involved - Jon is not always great at picking up social cues, especially romantic ones.

 “That’s fine though” he tells him later, “You’re a huge enough flirt to make it up for the both of us.”

 Jon squeezes his hand, and Tim happily squeezes back as he keeps walking beside him, just a little bit closer than before.

 He can’t help but smile. Something like happiness blooms in his chest, and even though they don’t talk about it the entire way, even though they keep holding hands when they sit next to each other in the tube, they remain this close all the way until their ways separate and they have to get onto a different line each. It feels right, and the sudden loss of touch as their ways separate makes Tim wish it could last - but turning back and running after the other train seems kind of silly now, especially since he’ll see Jon again the very next day.

 This becomes A Thing as well. Touching, that is.

 Holding hands, brushing along each other when they reach for folders or mugs or books in the library. Speaking of which, Tim has learned very quickly that there is      no     way to stop Jon from literally climbing high spaces to reach whatever he needs. As of now, he is long used to watching him scale a bookshelf or kitchen counter, much to his own amusement.

 “Hold on tight, little monkey.” he tells him as he walks past, grinning from ear to ear, knowing full well that he can’t expect more than a scoff and,

 “Oh, shut up.” as a response.

 Tim keeps it up though - because it’s fun and he knows he’s allowed to get away with it. Which can’t be said for anyone else in the institute, not like anyone would have tried as far as he knows. But he is ridiculously proud of it nonetheless. Tim is still cackling to himself when he wraps an arm around the other man’s shoulders and keeps chatting away to him all the way back into the research offices.

 He has always been very openly affectionate, with family, friends and romantic partners or those he’d fancied. It’s part of who he is, and if he is honest with himself, it feels good to have some part of him back that’s always been there. It helps a bit, and even more so since Jon not only happily lets him, he also leans back into the touch. Jon’s attempts at seeking out touch are a lot more subtle than Tim’s, at least at first, but he knows and recognizes it for the sign of trust and comfort that it is.

 That afternoon, there isn’t much time to chat at their desks, but about an hour before they’re supposed to get off, a balled up piece of paper hits Tim’s hand, clearly coming from Jon, but the sneaky bastard isn’t giving indication that he stopped reading at all.

 With a small smile, Tim opens the note. It’s not like Mr.   Workaholic to pass notes on the clock, but then again, he has to give Jon credit for loosening up significantly since the day they met. Or, maybe warmed up to human company is more like it. (He very carefully tries not to think, or more like hope, that it's him in particular Jon has warmed up to so much. But then again, Tim has heard some of their coworkers whisper in astonishment that it’s completely unheard of that Jonathan Sims leaves his desk for breaks or in time in the evenings, let alone interacting with other human beings more than absolutely necessary. Tim also caught the rumors about the two of them being a couple - he’d almost laughed then. He fucking      wishes    .)

 Tim unfolds the note and reads;

     “I have a lot of leftover curry I made last night. Would you like to come over for dinner after work? - J.”  

 This has become A Thing, too. Sharing meals after work and sometimes on the weekends. It alternates where they go, but especially lately, they have preferred to go to either Tim’s house or Jon’s apartment instead of a restaurant. For one, going out to eat on a regular basis is expensive, but also, cooking together or eating the leftovers from a late night cooking binge is a lot more comfortable and homely.

 Sharing a meal and oftentimes a couch with someone fills at least part of the void that Tim finds inside of himself. He is struggling still, but having another human being in his personal space, warm and alive and happy to be there, means the world to him. He’s feeling something again, something that isn’t constant fear or everlasting sadness.

 They watch movies sometimes - it’s not exactly easy to find something that both of them       like    . Their tastes in movies are widely different from each other, so instead, they opt to choose obscure sci-fi movies or anything they can pick apart and make fun of. No horror - they haven’t talked about it, but this is one of the few movie-related things they are in silent agreement over.

 Truth be told, poking fun at bad movies together is much more entertaining than watching anything the normal way.

 They are stuffing their faces with snacks and complain at the protagonists for making very unwise or straight up unrealistic decisions, even in-universe illogical ones. They pick apart plot-points and anything that doesn’t add up  while they share space on the couch, either holding hands or leaning against one another.

 “Oh, of course, give me a break!” Jon grouses as he shakes his hand that is currently holding a few crisps at the TV, annoyed to no end, it seems. In truth, he is      enjoying     this. He enjoys this an awful lot, and so does Tim.

 He laughs out loud and pulls Jon a little closer to his side.

 “Yes, you tell the creepy alien why it’s mere existence even in this fictional universe doesn’t make sense, Love!” He eggs him on, and only realizes the pet name has slipped out of his mouth by the time he notices the deep blush creeping on Jon’s face. Oh shit.

     “Now don’t say anything to fuck this up, for once in you life, just shut up!”    Tim thinks to himself, carefully trying to remain as calm as he can. They’ve been holding hands for ages and they keep cuddling up on the couch - this isn’t anything unexpected, for heaven’s sake. Hell, if Jon were anyone different, they might have ended up in bed already, but Tim is aware that this probably isn’t going to happen anytime soon - or at all, if he isn’t entirely mistaken, based on  the hints and observations. First and foremost the slow and careful way in which their relationship to each other is changing and developing, but then again, he knows what the simple black ring on the middle finger on a person’s right hand usually means.

 Tim doesn’t ask though - he figures that if Jon wants to talk about it, he will do so eventually and at his own pace.

 So, Tim doesn’t push anything and carefully waits for a response. But there isn’t one, or at least nothing verbal. Instead of saying anything, neither to Tim or about the movie, Jon simply scoots a little bit closer to him, leaning against him and doesn’t let go of his hand. Tim takes this as a win and leans his head against the tuft of long black hair that tickles his cheek.

 Both of them relax in an instant, and if they end up falling asleep on the couch, legs a tangled mess and with the TV still on, well, the next morning isn’t nearly as awkward as it might have been once upon a time.

 It takes Tim, way longer than it should to realize that, for the first time in a long while, he didn’t startle awake screaming that night. Company helps. It helps a lot. Just knowing that there is someone else, that he isn’t alone and doesn’t have to wake up to an eerily empty house anymore helps.

 Tim doesn’t fool himself into thinking that everything will magically resolve itself - he knows it won't, especially because his research about the circus isn’t going anywhere yet.

 Sometimes, he feels guilty. Guilty for not spending every waking minute searching for hints, searching for answers to the things that have taken his brother and traumatized him for life. The calmer, logical part of his brain is aware that it doesn’t work like that - he needs a break sometimes, needs the time to himself and spend it with other people…. And goddammit, he deserves to be happy.

 Danny would have kicked his arse if he could hear him think this, would have told him to get a grip and do something that makes him happy. Because this is what scares him sometimes - the happiness, the times where he doesn’t think of the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden or circuses and… Skin. Just the thought alone makes him shudder, but he can’t stop thinking about those memories sometimes.

 “...Are you alright?”

 Tim blinks, not having realized that he must have zoned out. He’s still on the couch, slowly waking up and with Jon tucked somewhere next to him. He doesn’t sound very awake yet, but there is concern in his voice as he fixes Tim with a very direct look.

 “I- yes, just. Zoned out a bit there.” Tim shoots him his best bright smile, hoping he’ll be able to chase away the ghosts. At least for now. He sighs, and happily leans into the touch and hugs back when he can feel a pair of slim arms snaking around his waist. Jon doesn’t say anything, but he seems to pick up that something is bothering Tim. And much like him in emotional situations, Jon doesn’t know what to say. So he remains close and thankfully, this is exactly what Tim needs right now. Just being close to someone he cares a whole lot about, feeling their heartbeat near his own. Being held for a bit. He squeezes Jon in silent gratitude for being there, and hopes he can get across what he can’t say.

 It is Saturday and they have a whole weekend in front of them. After they peel themselves off of the couch, they stumble off to the bathroom after one another and then to the kitchen in an attempt to fuel themselves with tea and breakfast. It’s painfully, beautifully domestic.

 While he is keeping an eye on several pans on the propane stove, Tim is chatting away about something - he isn’t exactly sure himself, except it is something pointless that distracts him from his earlier train of thought. Jon and him are laughing and joking while they drink tea and prepare breakfast together. But after a while it looks like Jon wants to say something, stops himself, and then more of the same all over again.

 Eventually, Tim can’t watch him struggle over it anymore and straight out asks,

 “Hey. What’s going on in that fuzzy head of your’s?”

 It’s true - both of them still have a severe case of bed-heads, and Jon huffs at the question and tries to smooth down a few of the stubborn flyaways around his face. Only very mildly successful.

 “I… Was going to ask something.”

 “Alright? Shoot.” Tim very, very carefully swallows the joke he was about to make in the end - if this is going where he hopes it might, he doesn’t want one god awful pun to be part of the memory of it. So he waits.  

 Jon seems to be bracing himself, and then he turns around to face Tim.

 “I would like to kiss you. Is that okay?” he asks. A simple question, and yet - it means so much. Tim smiles at him, heart beating out of his chest as he steps closer to Jon.

 “Yes, I’d love that.”

 There are only mere inches separating them. Both Jon and Tim cross the last of the distance at once, hands searching for each other. Their fingers are interlacing tightly as soon as they touch, and just a split second later, their lips meet for the first time. There is no rush, nothing in this world that would get them to hurry anything up at this moment. Slowly, they kiss again and again, tasting faintly of the tea they had earlier, but even more so, it feels like comfort. Maybe even a little bit like home.

 A quiet happiness settles deep into them, and something seems to click into place. They are happy, and there is nowhere they’d rather be than anywhere, as long as they can be together.

 After a little while, their hands let go of each other, but only so they can pull one another closer. One of Tim’s hands is cupped around Jon’s cheek, thumb gently stroking over the soft stubble while his other arm remains wrapped around him, hand resting at the small of his back. Jon on the other hand, has to angle his head up a bit due to their height difference, but he doesn’t mind that at all. Both of his arms are wrapped around Tim’s torso, and if it was possible, he would like to remain like this forever.

 Unfortunately for the two of them, life has other plans.

 When the smell of something burning registers with the two of them, they regretfully break apart cursing and laughing as they quickly remove the pans from the heat.

 “That was - good lord, why now of all times?” Breathlessly and more than a little high from happy brain chemicals, they try to get a grip on themselves and on the situation.

 “Just like our luck, isn’t it?” Tim is joking, of course, but still. The timing couldn’t have been worse.

 “This       better     not become a habit.” Jon glares at the charred eggs and smoking pans as if they personally insulted him. He’d been having a good time, but of course something had to happen. Oh well.

 “We’ll just have to make up for it.” Tim winks at him, grinning widely. He doesn’t mean much by it, and he only realizes how that might have come across when Jon awkwardly clears his throat and says,

 “The kissing? Yes, absolutely. Other things… Well, most other things, actually… Not so much. I erm, I should have said that before now, I suppose. But, I’m Asexual.” he chooses his words slowly and deliberately, like he is trying to say them exactly right.

 Tim looks into his eyes, bright green and shining with happiness, but now, there is something else creeping into them. Self-doubt, insecurities - Tim isn’t sure, but he wants to do his best to make the doubts disappear - and apologize for his big mouth.

 “That’s absolutely fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that - I wasn’t implying anything else, I promise.”

 Slowly, Jon nods, visibly relaxed now. He asks,

 “So… We’re good?”

 “We are. More than good actually, if you ask me.” Tim finds himself smiling again, which is something he’s been doing so much more lately. Then he tucks away a strand of hair from Jon’s face and kisses him again, just as gentle as before. He is happy to find that he returns the kiss in an instant, pushing close until the two of them end up pressed up against the kitchen table. After they break apart again, they remain standing in an embrace.

 “I like you, Jon. I like you a lot. I love being around you and with you, just for who you are. Yes, I enjoy sex, but I don’t need it. So if you don’t want to, that is okay and it doesn’t make a difference to me. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

 He nearly says, “I love you” but that might be a little early - saying it too early has ruined his relationships in the past, and although what Jon and he have is something different, Tim doesn’t want to risk it.

 But as it turns out, he said the right thing. Jon looks a lot more relaxed than before, and he keeps a loose hold around Tim’s hips.

 “Thank you, Tim, that’s… Very reassuring actually. I’ve been with people who reacted quite a bit differently to this, so” Jon shrugs, but it is clear that this isn’t a happy memory.

 “I appreciate you.” He adds, and Tim pulls him a little bit closer.

 “I’m sorry. These people fucking suck.”

 “That’s one way to put it, yes.” Jon smiles, and pulls Tim down for another, longer kiss. It feels just as intoxicating as before. Then he tells him,

 “And, just for the record. I like you a lot, and spending time with you makes me very happy.

 The giddy happiness stays with them - being freshly in love and being freshly together is exciting. It is a feeling Tim will never get tired of. The thing is, being together with Jon doesn’t change a whole lot - they are still on opposite desks from each other at work, they still spend their lunch breaks together and Tim actually manages to get Jon to leave the office at 5pm these days,  instead of late at night like he did for the longest time. They still have dinner together most days and they often spend their weekends together. All of these are things they did before, but now, it still feels… Different.

 Then of course, there are the casually affectionate touches throughout the day. They’d like to think that they’re being more discreet here, but then again, at least Tim has never been shy about throwing arms around people or bumping shoulders or anything like that. In fact, people would probably get concerned and suspicious if he stopped doing any of it.

 The point is: they keep it down to normal levels at work, but they seem to be glued together whenever they’re off the clock. Whether they hold hands, hug, kiss, bump shoulders, hips, arms or hands, or sometimes simply nap stacked on top of each other, they are always touching in some way. Both of them soak up the contact like sponges, and they know without having even talked about it in detail that they spent quite a bit of time lonely and touch starved before… This. Their relationship.

 Waking up with one another in the mornings is probably Tim’s favourite part of all. Holding onto each other with their legs tangled together, hands searching for warm skin to rest on and heads pillowed on each other's shoulder or chest. Sharing breaths of air - all of this feels wonderful and intimate in it’s own way, and he can’t get enough of it.

 Waking up in the morning is a peaceful thing. But some nights, unfortunately, are not. Both of them have nightmares on a regular basis. They find that they generally sleep better when they are not alone, and having someone to hold close or bury into when the lingering horrors hit, helps significantly.

 Some nights, it’s Jon who startles awake in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving as he frantically looks around himself until he realizes where he is, or until Tim wakes up and mumbles quiet reassurances into his hair as he holds him close until the tremors have calmed down.

 If they’re lucky, they manage to fall back asleep after a while, but if not, they simply stay awake, cuddled up under soft blankets and they just talk. Their topics of conversation vary widely, ranging from silly, lighthearted distractions to things they did or experienced in their past, as well as heartfelt conversations that are about much more than just that.

 Tim himself has his fair share of nightmares as well, ever since he lost Danny. And even though having Jon close by and being held at night helps to keep them at bay sometimes, there are still nights where he startles awake either screaming or crying or both.

 The first time it happens, Tim wakes up terrified and tangled in the sheets. His shirt clings to the cold sweat that is running down his back and his breath comes out in irregular, shaky bursts.

     A dimly lit circus arena, old and dusty with centuries of dirt. Tim can’t move. It’s like he is rooted to the spot, and yet, his legs won’t stop shaking. He is shivering from the cold - no surprise, since he ran out in nothing but his pyjamas earlier, and this place is surprisingly freezing for a hot August night. Tim can feel the cold, but more so than anything, he is absolutely terrified.  

     He wants to scream, to run, do anything but stand here - but it’s impossible. The crumpled form of his brother - or the        Thing         that pretends to be Danny - sits motionless and hunched over, no matter how much Tim tries to call out for him. Not a single word leaves his throat, even though his vocal cords hurt from the strain he’s been putting on them. But Danny doesn’t hear him - can’t hear him.  

     From out of the shadows, Tim can see… Something. It looks like a clown, but it’s wrong. Too long, too folded up to be human. It drags itself across the floor slowly and grotesquely, like a creature from a horror movie, up until it stops. Unlike a movie creature though, this is very much reality.  

     Breathing is hard, and Tim wants to force his body to move, but still, there is nothing he can do. Part of him wants to believe that this… Place, this        Thing         is influencing his ability to move somehow, but then again, he might just as well be paralyzed by fear.  

     The clown moves forward, right towards Danny. As it unfurls itself, it is clear that there are smears of blood all over its face, red and bold and dripping wet.  

     “Shall I?” it asks, with a voice that is playful in the worst possible way. Too happy, and way too sinister. Tim can’t even answer, still unable to talk or move or do anything, but he can feel the bile rise in his throat. He wants to grab Danny and run, but knows he can’t. He wants to scream, cry or throw up, anything but watch the scene unfolding in front of him.  

     None of this happens though.  

     Instead, Tim is forced to stand motionless and helpless, watching in agony and horror as the clown moves much more quickly than he could have anticipated. It’s not as much that he can actually see the movement, but Tim can feel it. He can feel the breeze of air on his face, and just a split second later, it has removed the entirety of Danny’s skin. His limp, bloody and bare form slumps forward, and it is only then that Tim actually starts screaming.  

         He is screaming his head off,  loud, desperate and terrified. Tim is shaking like a leaf. Breathing is impossible, and it takes him way too long to realize that in order to breathe, he needs to calm down for just a second. It takes even longer for him to realize that he is at home, safely in bed and long out of this situation. But Danny… Danny is just as dead.

 Between ragged, forced breaths, Tim is curling in on himself, unable to register that Jon has woken up and is talking to him in a low, concerned voice. He tries to get his partner to calm down at least a bit, afraid he’ll end up hyperventilating from panic.

 Tim doesn’t register any of it. He can’t make out Jon’s gentle voice trying to bring him back, doesn’t register the light, careful touch on his arm in an attempt to soothe without scaring him further. Tim curls himself into a tight, shaking ball without noticing any of it.

 After the first initial panic, there is a brief moment of silence, but after that, he breaks. Ragged breath turns into uncontrollable, hiccuping sobs and it is only then that Tim realizes the familiar pair of arms slipping around him in a protective embrace. He uncurls just enough to be able to hug back and let Jon slip closer to him, which he does as soon as humanly possible. Tim clings onto him for dear life as Jon curls himself around him in what must be an uncomfortable or at least awkward position, but this is the last thing on his mind.  All Jon cares about right now is making sure that Tim is okay, or at least, as okay as he can be.

 Their bodies are pressed flush together, tightly enough for them to feel each other's rapidly beating hearts hammering out of their chests. Tim tries to focus on that, tries to focus on the carefully even rhythm of breath that Jon attempts to get him to follow.

 His presence is constant, warm and comforting. Tim can feel his weight on top of himself, the hold of his arms around him. Strands of hair and warm breath on his neck are a familiar sensation as well, something he’s been getting used to lately. Even more so, it is something that Tim loves and associates with home by now. And while the fear and pain caused by his nightmare are still very much lingering, he is able to relax in order to calm down eventually. Slowly but surely, a little bit over the course of - he doesn’t even know how long.

 Time has lost all meaning at this point. It might take him minutes or hours to breathe normally again, and at some point, Tim realizes that the steady stream of talking, besides the quiet attempts to comfort and assure him, are actually bits and pieces of random information. Anything to keep talking and keep up a steady presence, Tim supposes, but he is eternally grateful for it. He shifts a bit, arms still wrapped tightly around Jon, although he’s stopped clinging as much by now. He stretches out a little bit without letting go of their embrace - everything hurts from holding himself so tense for so long. Then Tim pulls the both of them onto their side so they can cuddle properly.

 Gentle hands keep running through his messy mop of purple hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp. Tim leans into it, soaking up the touch like a sponge. He’s stopped shaking now, he notices, and he registers a lot more sensations than he did before.

 Little sounds around the house, wind outside, the occasional car. Most of all, he registers all the different little touches from Jon, and the way he keeps talking to him even now.

 After a while, he leans in to kiss Tim’s forehead, thumbs wiping away a few stray tears. It seems like the worst of the storm is over by now, but Jon stays close. He’s never seen Tim in such a state, and it worries him to no end. At least it looks like he isn’t in severe panic anymore.

 “Do you want to talk?” Jon asks quietly, but all Tim can manage is shake his head. It's not like he      could    talk right now if he tried. He doesn't trust his voice, knowing it will break, which is probably going to set him off again and he's not ready to face that.

 Maybe, a part of him wants to talk about what happened. Sure, it is going to hurt regardless, whenever he decides he is ready for it, but there is no doubt that it will help to get it off of his chest. But Tim doesn’t know how he is supposed to talk about the horrors he's witnessed. Where would he even start? How does he explain all of it without sounding - well.

 “That’s alright.” Jon tightens his hold around Tim as he shifts a little bit, without letting go, so he can rest his head on top of Tim’s. There is a quiet, almost suffocating sadness radiating off of him, and even though he doesn’t know what happened that got him into this state, Jon offers him all the support he can, in any way he knows how. Physical touch seems to help a lot, thankfully. That, he can do forever.

 “I’m here for you. Whatever it is you need, I’m here.”

 The sun is starting to rise on the horizon, but Tim and Jon remain in bed, wrapped up around each other just like before. Birds are starting to sing outside, even before the first rays of the morning sun tint the room into a low light.

 “I love you. I’m here for you, and I love you.”

                             Notes:

#Archival Pride 2021 #Banashee writes #tma fanfic #JonTim #the magnus archives #tw trauma #tw death #tw blood and violence #mind the tags and CWs please

[icasttourniquet]

Brand Treatment and Surving a Beatdown with Spine Intact

Question: I have a character who gets beat up by a group of people and branded on her cheek. I'd like there to be very little risk of spine injury and for another character to be able to treat her semi-effectively. There is healing magic in the world and it is entirely stat based, not experience based. Thoughts?

We'll focus on the two parts of this questions separately. First, how can you beat someone without risking spine injury? And second, how should you DIY a brand treatment? (Also, and hopefully this goes without saying, but you should not DIY a brand treatment IRL).

Spine Safe Beatdown

It is impossible to guarantee 100% that your injured character (IC) has no spine injury. That said, it's possible to reduce the risk.

Why do spines break?

Like any bone, spines can break. Unlike any random bone, vertebrae have a spinal cord inside them, and the shards of a broken spinal bone can sever the spinal cord, causing numbness, tingling, and paralysis. Spinal column injuries refer to broken bones only. Spinal cord injuries refer to a damaged cord, which almost always comes with at least one broken vertebra too (sort of a two for one injury deal).

Spines are finicky beasts, but they especially dislike the following types of force:

Compression up and down the spine (think like an accordion)

Twisty motions (like cracking your back, but worse)

Bending side to side (t-posing and then swaying from side to side)

Rough head jostling

Assymetric force from the front or back, which could cause the spine to twist

(For more fun breaking bones, see: Can Your Character Survive... Broken Bones?).

Protecting the Spine

So... basically any impact on the head or torso has the possibility to make the spine unhappy. Mod N suggests two equally strong goons punch both shoulders simultaneously and with the same amount of force. Since it's unlikely any goons are feeling that considerate, you can reduce the likelihood of a spine injury if you:

Have your character sitting on a chair with a back or lying down as opposed to standing during their beating. This gives the spine less room to get up to any funny business

Avoid too many blows to the head and neck. In movies, beatings seem to always involve grabbing the poor victim by the hair and then laying them out with a punch. This seems like a great way to get permanent spine and/or brain damage (Hey, Can Your Character Surive... Altered Mental Status, anyone?)

Avoid grabbing and pulling on the body by the head (I haven't been in too many beatdowns myself so I'm not sure if this is a frequent occurance)

Avoid any direct blows to the spine, avoid compression down the spine, avoid too much twisty spine motions

Ruling out Spinal Injuries

While it's best practice to assume spine injury in any trauma case until definitively proven otherwise, there are ways to semi-rule out any serious spine injury before you move someone, including:

Clearing the spine (the caretaking character doesn't appear to have medical experience, so this seems unlikely, but perhaps they could cast Heal Spine before further treatment)

Check if IC reports any unusual numbness or tingling

Check the spine itself for any obvious bruising, bleeding, tenderness, etc.

Ask IC if their spine feels okay (spinal cord injured patients often report that they know something is very wrong even if they don't know what)

If the caretaker has no way to care for a spine injury, it might be enough for them to simply think about the possibility. Or, if they don't have any medical experience at all, they might just jump to treating the more obvious injuries, in this case, the brand.

DIY Brand Treatment

My first thought when I hear about a cheek brand is, yikes and my second is, why doesn't that brand go through the cheek? That said, it appears cheek brands actually did happen historically (drawn images but no pictures of branding in the link).

Appearance

Brands are a type of third degree burn, which means the third layer of skin is affected, as well as the first two (no pictures in the link). The tool used to make the brand will affect the appearance.

Here's a video of someone getting a brand with a precision implement. (This is a dead dove, don't eat situation. Apparently, human branding is a squick of mine. I'm learning so much writing up this response!). In this video, because the hot tool is so tiny, the wound itself mostly looks red and swollen, with a few black lines where the actual brand occured.

I'm assuming when you say brand, you mean something like this:

Brand, from here,

Here's a healing progression—one week, one month, and three months—of a more applicable brand (pictures right at the top of the page after following the link). And here's what NOLS has to say about it: "The skin appears leathery, charred, pearl gray, and dry, or possibly white and firm. The area is sunken and has a burned odor." (I mostly just like "pearl gray" as a color name).

In that case, I think a blackened and charred shape of the brand, surrounded by perhaps a thin layer of white but mostly red and swollen skin is your best bet.

Reaction

Counterintuitively, the branded skin itself might not hurt because the brand has burned away all the nerve endings. I think it's safe to say the area around the brand probably hurts like hell (on account of this area is probably second- and first-degree burns).

There's also the added psychological complication of this brand being on the face, where humans are more psychologically vulnerable to injury. IC is probably not too happy right now, and it will likely be obvious her whole life that someone branded her there, though the shape itself may become obscured by scar tissue.

Here's the summary of a meta-analysis that looked at rates of anxiety and depression in people with visible differences (including facial scarring). It might be a worthwhile read, as might the study itself. Changing Faces is a charity dedicated to helping people with facial injuries.

Brand Concerns

What are we worried about when it comes to branding?

Airway: this is a face brand. Traumatic injuries on the face and neck could potentially interfere with IC's ability to breathe. Needless to say, that would be bad

Infection: skin is in charge of keeping foreign contaminants out of the body. If the skin is burned through, bacteria and viruses have a much easier time getting to the blood

Volume shock: a big enough brand can kill someone outright, though perhaps then it's less accurate to describe it as a brand and more accurate to say someone was burnt to death

Hypothermia: skin also keeps the cold out. In non-balmy environments, even small burns can put you at a high risk for hypothermia

Psychological trauma: for what I hope are obvious reasons

Cheeks aren't big enough for me to be too worried about volume shock or hypothermia, though your caretaker should monitor IC for signs of shock or uncontrollable shivering.

Brand Treatment

The first step with any burn is putting the fire out. Mod N likes to remind me that EMT training says you need to wash out any burn with cold water for 5 to 10 minutes, just in case it is still smoldering. Ideally, this is done with clean water, not ice cold. Do not put ice on the brand!

Next, to prevent infection, clean the wound of any outside debris (dirt, clothes, etc.) and apply some sort of antibacterial salve. If no salve is available, hopefully your caretaker has a Spell of No Bacteria up their sleeves.

Now to dress the wound. If it's relatively small (less than 3 palms of surface area), use a wet to dry dressing. That is, put wet gauze directly on the surface of the wound. Then dry gauze or a dry bandage as the next layer up. Change it once a day for cleaning. If your world has showers, don't put the wound directly under a shower head for at least a week.

Cleaning in this case means both washing the wound and cutting away dead skin. This is usually a dreadful experience for all involved. I have only treated moulaged wounds with a fake victim who screamed far too convincingly and it was miserable.

Inhalation Burns

Observative readers will note I mentioned airway concerns but didn't addressed them. Gold star for that reader. The caretaker should monitor IC's airway as standard practice but they also need to think about inhalation burns, which are burns to the inside of the mouth, throat, and lungs. These are always considered life threatening.

Inhalation burns are caused by breathing in hot materials, such as smoke. In the cosemetic branding video I recommended above, the brander himself wore a gas mask, presumably at least in part to keep from breathing in hot air. With the brand so close to IC's mouth and nose, inhalation burns are a distinct possibility.

Inhalation burns are treated in the wilderness with a swift evacuation. Your caretaker's best bet is going to be to either rule out inhalation burns or treat them magically. Depending on technology levels, a hospital or doctor may be able to help IC too.

Conclusion

IC is going through a bit of a rough patch, between the beatdown and the brand, but it's completely possible for them not to have any life-threatening injuries, especially if the goons avoid their spine during the assault and their brand is small and doesn't involve inhalation burns.

#question #ict #branding #spine injury #wilderness medicine #writing advice #writing tips

[my-introvert-hideout]

Izumi Kyōka: ISFP [BSD]

Fi > Se > Ni > Te

*Based off Season 1 of the anime [Chapters 1-12] with character-based spoilers from the Wikis. I’ve also read a synopsis of “The Untold Story of the Founding of the Detective Agency,” which gives lots of insight into Fukuzawa and Ranpo in particular, and also I know Yosano’s backstory. The Onsen Drama will also make an appearance occasionally. I feel like I have a good enough grasp on their characters for this and will only add more examples rather than changing types in the future. (At least, I think so.)

I’VE ALSO SEEN HER TYPED AS: ISTP, ISTJ, ISFJ, INTJ

Fi is sometimes seen as a Thinking type, at least in Kyōka’s case, because it doesn’t demonstrate as much Feeling outside of itself -- the very definition of an introverted function, but I digress. I haven’t seen much of her character yet, but I feel that it’s enough; she’s young and her other functions haven’t developed, so it’s easier to pick out the ones she uses. She may not be very expressive, but that can be drawn back to Fi and her trauma. (It’s important to remember that other things besides personality type affect someone. Though I think trauma generally affects different types in different ways.) So far, all of her decisions have been made based on Feeling. I can’t see an xxTx dramatically jumping off a moving train while saying they didn’t want to kill anyone else, tearing up. Of course, Thinkers are still humans and have emotion, but their go-to for decision making is logic. They’re also more likely to simply go to the police station rather than visiting other places before their assumed death. Furthermore, Kyōka believes that killing people is now part of her identity, which is something that Fi is very concerned with; identity and sense of self. Again, most healthy people will feel regret for doing something like that, but it’s such a large part of her personality and probably future development.

Her Se is demonstrated in the same brush stroke as her Fi; she wants to experience things before going to the police station. Kyōka also apparently has a photographic memory, which is often associated with sensors; especially those with Se. She’s also very curious about the physical world since, from what I can tell, Kyōka hasn’t had that much contact with it. Atsushi hasn’t either, being cooped up in an orphanage, but he doesn’t show the same enthusiasm for new things like she does, as he doesn’t have Se in his first four function slots.  I’m also trying out this theory that generally someone’s likes and dislikes correspond to whether or not they’re a sensor or intuitive.

LIKES: Rabbits, tofu, hydrangeas, ghosts

DISLIKES: Dogs, thunder, flies

Again, the vast majority of her likes and dislikes are Sensing-related, although intuition could be argued for things like ghosts.

Ni is pretty obvious in her character, but not enough for her to have it as a dominant function; she’s also too good at Se for it to be her fourth. Kyōka is aware of the fact that Atsushi is supposed to bring her to the police station and plans with Fi-Se on what to squeeze in before she has to get there. She also demonstrates a more forward-looking view on her past rather than being stuck in it, like Atsushi’s dominant Si. Kyōka wants to prove to Akutagawa that she’s more than just the killer he (and the Port Mafia) made her be. Again, Ni working in tandem with Fi.

Te is the function she was forced into during her time in the Port Mafia. This is the kind of ruthlessness they needed as it’s kind of an opposing function to Fe, which would absolutely not tolerate it (again, if the person is healthy). Especially pairing it with Se. It’s the loop we saw with Yosano. However, looping the extroverted functions of an introvert rather than their dominant and tertiary ones would probably be a bit damaging, as well. Because it’s inferior, we haven’t seen much Te from her yet, but Kyōka suggesting to use her ‘charms’ during Agency missions kind of freaks out Atsushi’s Fe (along with Si) -- and not to mention that he’s already somewhat shy. It is worth noting that ISFPs can come off as INTJs when trying to use their lower functions. In my opinion, that’s what happened to Edmond Dantès (The Count of Monte Cristo) who was a more unhealthy ISFP.

Ne Blind Spot: {LATER}

Fi-Ni Loop: ‘An ISFP in a Fi-Ni loop overanalyze situations, getting stuck in their head and find themselves unable to act on any of their beliefs. They will wallow in their feelings and overanalyze situations, also becoming overly anxious in situations. They will also become overly worried about the long term implications of an action and have trouble acting in the moment, worrying about whatever future emotional repercussions will result from actions. They will read into things past what is on the surface and come to negative conclusions which result in negative emotions, which they then stew in.’ source I haven’t specifically seen her in a loop yet, but her Fi-Ni use is quite apparent. So far, she hasn’t been using them too unhealthily or gotten stuck with those functions. But I can definitely see her in this loop.

#kyouka izumi #bsd kyouka #mbti #mbti personalities #bungou stray dogs #isfp #isfp personality #character analysis #typology

[magaprima]

Mary and Lilith are very interesting mirrors of each other. Both are women alone. Mary has no one to help her deal with what's happened to her and Lilith has no one to who will help her deal with Satan. Any thoughts on how their stories compare/contrast in Part 3?

Oh, yes, they definitely are mirrors of one another, two sides of the spectrum. I mean even though Lilith is my ultimate favourite character, I do love Mary and I was so glad when she was brought back to life at the end of Part 2. I had hoped we’d see more of her in Part 3, but I realise that with MG playing both, they have a reluctance to have Mary, a minor character, be on screen too much to class with a lead character, Lilith. 

But anyway, back onto their mirrroyness. 

I think you’re right, they’re both women alone, not only in a there’s no one in the immediate vicinity who helps/supports them (no one seems to care Lilith could be killed by Lucifer, no one seems to care that Mary thinks she’s going mad), but also in that they are women who are used to their own company. Both Lilith and Mary don’t often have people to share time with, and when they do it’s often in a work capacity. 

In part 3, both women are dealing with Hell, Mary with her memory of it, and the effect that has on her (even though she simply thinks they are nightmares. Which, by the way, is horrendous and tragic that Mary is actually tormented by her memories of being in Hell, a place she should never have been) and Lilith with trying to rule it without someone coming along to tell her she shouldn’t. They are both fighting against a place that wants to destroy them, albeit in different ways. 

Then we have the above mentioned of how both are left entirely on their own to deal with stuff. Both are women in need of support and help, yet both are denied it, both are dismissed or forgotten about in favour of other things. No one helps Mary through any of her trauma, and they only actually deal with her when she is unwittingly a piece in a human sacrifice. And no one helps Lilith when she needs to hide herself from the Dark Lord. 

 Both are unfairly demonised/rejected by the Spellman family (and specifically Zelda because apparently the writers never want MG and MO to have a friendly scene ever again). Lilith is dismissed as a wild card and unworthy of being protected, and when she resorts to siding herself with Lucifer to keep herself safe, Sabrina immediately jump to conclusions that Lilith is against them (’Lucifer and Lilith. The dream team back together again’). With the exception of Sabrina, everyone assumes Mary is a bitch for shooting Zelda and immediately dismisses her, and Hilda and Zelda even mutter about potentially letting the pagans sacrifice Mary if that’s possible, rather than thinking (as Sabrina does) that something else was at play. Which it was; the devil was in Mary’s ear just as it was in Zelda’s when she slapped Agatha, or in Elspeth when she attacked Melvin. That’s why Mary is shaken and horrified the next day in class, because she’s shot someone and that’s not in her nature. 

Both women are in lesser positions than they were in the previous seasons. Lilith goes from Queen to Regent, and Mary goes from Principal to teacher. Admittedly, Mary’s could have been by choice, but it could also be that in her time off, men quickly seized the opportunity to get a woman out of the role, considering the misogyny at Baxter High. Either way, it’s about two women having to take a step down. 

And then there’s the virgin/whore thing. Both are unfairly judged and condemned for their sex lives. Lilith is accused of being nothing more than a whore and therefore unfit to rule, Mary is a declared an ‘innocent virgin’ and therefore worthy only as a possible sacrifice. Both are dismissed as people, as women in their own right with their own skills and abilities, simply because of their sex lives.

Interestingly, while they are not helped by anyone themselves, and while they are essentially ignored or rejected by other women, the only people who ever help them...are each other. Admittedly, Lilith is disguised as Adam at the time, but Mary is the one to take her in, to offer her safe haven. And I do believe if Lilith had told the truth, or at least most of the truth, Mary would have been more protective. And when Mary is in danger at the hands of Lucifer, Lilith is the one who tells her to run. She doesn’t use Mary as distraction or let her die for revealing her, she warns her, makes sure she’s gone. I just love, in a way, that the only women who help them in this season, are each other, and that’s important. 

Also, we see Mary praying before the fire, and it’s an exact mirror of when Lilith begged for the Dark Lord’s mercy before the fire in Part 1. These two are on totally different paths, Mary is dedicated to the heavenly and Lilith is dedicated to the hellish, but both seem to be abandoned by their paths (no angel, no heavenly protector saved Mary from her time in hell. And we know how much DL and Hell is shitty to Lilith) and are having to try and find their own, make their own answers. 

The difference is Lilith faces hers head on, even when scared, she fights to live another day, she’s a bold and confident person, whereas Mary is timid, pulls back, goes into quiet study and reflection. They’re facing a lot of the same things, different shades of the same issues, but they do face them in entirely different ways. 

#Anonymous #there's probably lots more but i'd have to go through each episode and take notes so i'd remember everything #headcanons

[ninjakasuga]

Another Round of Sonally Prompts! (2nd to last)

Hey, folks for the hell of it I got one more row of SFW prompts for the Sonally Celebration! These particular ones I really thought about, and I guess they’re kind of the ‘endgame’ in themes minus one or two of the questions being a continuation of prior prompts or a general question.

I am going to do one more set of prompts, but those will be NSFW and not linked or tagged into the @boundforfreedomsonsal blog. After that, I’m gonna chill on the prompts for now as I should focus on wrapping up my submissions!

Now then onto the prompts! @gojira007 and the rest I hope you like!

01: What do each of them do to ‘cool off’ when they have an argument they can’t seem to reach a compromise over?

02: The Wedding, big, small, or do they just elope? 03: Speaking of weddings, time for one of their kids (or their only child) to get married! How do they handle it?

04: GRANDCHILDREN!! Their child(ren) just made them Grandparents, what kind do you see them as? 05: The years come and go, as they leave their youth and start to get into the years between 50-70, what are they up too, where do you see them in their retirement years?

06: Awwww they’re having their 50th wedding anniversary, how do you see it going?

07: As with every life, there is death. One of them has passed, how does the other handle it? (for context this is under the assumption old age or something related did them in versus a sudden death by accident) Now for my Answers: 01: Sonic falls back to his go-to-thing; running. He goes on a run, however long to cool off and think in private as he ponders on the source of their friction. Sally tries to distract herself with some sort of brain-focusing tasks like a puzzle or a good book while mulling over the argument in her head to try and draw conclusions on why it went south and if she or Sonic were in the right or wrong. Eventually, Sonic returns from his run, and Sally puts away whatever she used to cool off and they both sit down and talk it over, eventually working things out and making up for any hurt feelings. 02: No matter how they slice it, given Sally is a Princess, there’s gonna be some sort of big deal ceremony. I do see both Sonic and Sally wanting just a small wedding for their friends and family; especially if they opt to marry before the war ends. Then they’ll save the BIG SHOWY ceremony for after the war. Mostly if they can get away with postponing it that long. XD On the flip-side, if the story has Max still being a pill about Sonic being Sally’s squeeze; elope, no questions asked. ^_~ 03: Assuming the future-in-law is worthy of their child; they will jump for joy and be happy for their kid. Sure they will have some ‘giving away our baby’ jitters, but ultimately their child’s happiness trumps all discomfort they may have. There will be some crying but it will be tears of joy, and if anything their child having a wedding and moving on in their own life would be a great joy in of itself. It would be another symbol that whatever they suffered in the war was worth it. If just so their child could have a safe and peaceful world to grow up and live within; to find their own life and love. No greater joy can a parent hold for their child, especially these two. 04: Once the two stop joy-spazzing over the news, you can expect them to be front and center Grandparents. The parents may have to pry the newborn away from them for the first couple of visits. Knowing how to take care of a newborn can be stressful they along with their in-law’s parents will help split babysitting duties and just enjoy being able to spoil the kid rotten and playfully hand them back to the parents when the going gets rough. Not that they won’t step up, but I feel every new Grandparent doesn’t have that moment of ‘now you see what I went through, ha!’. In any case, they are the type who will be as available and active in their grandchild(rens) life as much as they can be. 05: Age does not slow them down much; maybe in the physical (despite what Sonic says), but these two will be firecrackers even as their fur dulls and greys. Some aspects of old-age will hit them hard, not just in that both are usually very active people, but some genetic ticking time bombs or perhaps past physical trauma from the war years have caught up with them. Sonic will take getting ‘slow’ the most, as running has been his ultimate expression of freedom. Sally will take bouts of forgetfulness hard given how organized and reliant on her mind she is. In this they will lean on each other more, their devotion and love pouring through ever stronger. Sally forgets something, Sonic has it written down and encourages her to keep a pen and paper on hand to jot thoughts down. While Sonic can’t run forever, what running he still can do, Sally encourages. If he’s truly not able to run, then they’ll walk together hand in hand and ‘pretend’ they’re zipping around the city. There will be a lot of sitting together, hand in hand, and since their kid (or one of them) has assumed the throne; they have a lot of freedom to do whatever fancy comes their way. They simply relish the fact they lived long enough to enjoy this stage of life when living to be an adult seemed like such a far off dream. 06: If anyone insists on a big party, they nix it. Only their family and closest of friends that are still around are invited. Being in their 70’s by this point, they prefer simple, and so there’s food and cake, and all the videos and photo albums out to reminisce, tell stories and enjoy life while they still can. Sonic being Sonic will at some point call attention and, with some effort, get on one knee and recite his proposal and marriage vows to Sally again, reaffirming his love which still burns ever brighter. Touched and while happy-crying, Sally will take his hand and affirm her vows as well as her own affirmation that her love for him still burns the same as ever. As they go to bed after the party, both Sally and Sonic cry joyfully as they hold one another. Feeling blessed at having lived the lives they have, and looking forward to however many they still have. 07: There are a few ways I see this happening. If one of them expectedly passes before the other; the grief will be monumental. Having lived together as long as they have, experienced what they have, and enjoying a deep bong of love few can, losing their significant other will be a blow that they probably won’t recover from. I would expect within one or two years’ time, a combination of the grief and just not wanting to live on without their beloved will see whoever survived won’t make their sweetheart await them long in the here-after. Another scenario is if one of them catches a terminal illness, and they can prepare for it; Sonic and Sally will both make the best of what time they have. With the deadline closing in, whoever is not ill, I can see making arrangements so that once their beloved is about to pass, they will be given a legally approved injection to end their own life. While some of their family may not fully approve, for the most part, such a thing is understood and nobody objects. One way or another, they will be together, in the next life as they were in this one I admit the last one was super sad, but well, all things come to an end, and while this may not ever be the last Sonally flavored prompt I do; aside from the upcoming NSFW one, it more or less is the end of the prompts for this celebration!

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Sally Acorn #Sonally #head-canons #romance #life and death #growing old together #cute

[dogbearinggifts]

“Dad Sent Me to the Moon” vs. “Because Dad Made Me”

How Luther and Vanya Talk About Trauma, Part One

In this fandom, I’ve heard a lot about Luther and Vanya. 

Most of the things I’ve heard about Luther are negative. He constantly whines about his time on the Moon. He won’t shut up about how he had it worse than everyone else. He invalidates his siblings’ trauma. Meanwhile, Vanya is spoken of as if she’s his polar opposite: a kind, timid woman who genuinely did have it worse than everyone else but suffers nobly in silence while quietly ensuring her siblings are okay. I wanted to see if these perceptions were accurate, so I decided to take an empirical approach. During my sixth rewatch, I noted every time Luther mentions the Moon or Vanya mentions her exclusion, as well as how each of them responds to hearing of someone else’s trauma.

I want to stress that I am not out to throw one character under the bus. I’m not out to prove that Vanya is the actual worst and that Luther is the literal best, or that Vanya is amazing and Luther is awful. I’ve just heard a lot about both characters from within the fandom and I want to see how strongly the show itself supports the fandom’s perceptions. I won’t be examining every quote they have, and I won’t be looking at every scene they’re in. A deep study of both characters would certainly be fun, but for now, I’m only interested in how they address their own trauma and how they respond to the trauma of others. 

Note: I’ve chosen not to include Vanya’s book as a mention of her trauma. While her book does indeed bring it up and examine it in detail, I wasn’t sure how to quantify it for my own purposes. Do I count it as a single mention, because she only wrote it down once, and thus risk underestimating its impact? Do I count each sale as a separate mention, guesstimate the number based on how many copies sold it takes to reach bestseller status, and therefore grossly inflate her numbers? Because the book is impossible to quantify with any sort of accuracy, I’ve chosen to leave it aside. Rather, I will keep my trauma counts limited to what Luther and Vanya say to friends or family members. This also means I won’t include her voice-over while we see her writing her book, or the moments where she reads excerpts aloud. 

I’ve also chosen to write down the exact quote each time Luther or Vanya mentions their respective trauma or respond to someone else’s trauma. I’ll share my analysis, but I also want to give you all the chance to see each quote for yourselves and make your own judgments. You’re welcome to disagree with my conclusions and take or leave them as you see fit.  However, because these analyses will become lengthy in places, I plan to do only a few episodes at a time.

Episode 1: We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

No explicit mentions of trauma from either Luther or Vanya. It’s established that Luther lived on the Moon for a while and that Vanya was raised to believe she had no powers and excluded from the family dynamic as a result, but neither one addresses what they went through. 

Episode 2: Run Boy Run

Following the episode opener—a flashback to the day Five time-traveled and accidentally got stuck in the apocalypse—we hear Five share the harrowing details of his time there. Eating cockroaches, subsisting on scavenged food, learning the hard way that Twinkies do in fact expire—it’s pretty awful stuff. After Vanya takes it in stunned silence, we have this exchange: 

Five: You think I’m crazy.  Vanya: No, it’s just…it’s a lot to take in.  Five: Exactly what don’t you understand?  Vanya: Why didn’t you just time-travel back?  Five: Gee, wish I’d thought of that. Time-travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed. You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?  Vanya: If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, then how come you still look like a kid?  Five: I told you already. I must have got the equations wrong.  Vanya: I mean, Dad always used to say that time-travel could mess up your mind. Maybe that’s what’s happening? 

This is our first onscreen mention of trauma, and Vanya invalidates it. However, there are some factors to consider: 

Five’s story is pretty bizarre. “Yeah, after I ran away from home and time-traveled, I got stuck in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, lived there for 40 years or so, ate cockroaches and bad Twinkies, and then I jumped right back here but because math failed me almost as much as Dad failed at parenting I still look just like I did the day I left. You got any booze?” 

There is no evidence to corroborate his story. He looks exactly the way he did when he left, and he has no way to prove he visited the future at all. The most logical conclusion here is that he spent a year at most figuring out how to return and wound up jumping ahead to 17 years after his disappearance.

As we see in the flashback, Five has always been arrogant and headstrong, growing angry when corrected. His anger and impatience toward Vanya’s insinuations that he’s lost his mind are not a reliable indication that he’s telling the truth; if anything, Vanya is well within reason to assume she’s edging too close to a truth he’s not ready to face. 

Reginald Hargreeves was a terrible parent. But he was also a very smart man who knew more about his children’s powers than they themselves did. When he said that time-travel could mess up one’s mind, Vanya had every reason to assume he knew what he was talking about. 

Reginald often used “YOU CHILDREN MUST ONE DAY SAVE THE WORLD FROM AN IGNOMINIOUS END” to scare his kids into doing the dishes. Not only has Vanya probably had enough of that talk to make her decide the world is going to die a natural death billions of years after hers, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable for her to assume Five’s time-travel-addled mind latched onto those doomsday threats and twisted them into something truly strange. 

So, yes, Vanya does invalidate Five’s trauma, suggesting it’s all in his head. But when your choices of explanation are “my brother time-traveled before he was ready and it messed up his mind” or “my brother time-traveled to an apocalypse that’s going to happen in 8 days, lived there for 40 years without ever trying to get back, and now looks like a 13-year-old kid because he got the math wrong,” the former is easier to believe than the latter. 

Additionally, we see she genuinely cares for Five. His sudden reappearance, his talk of an impending apocalypse, his story that to her has holes large enough to drive a Volkswagen through—all of that has got to be terrifying. It’s clear she’s not invalidating his trauma out of any sense of malice, but rather concern. If he’s a victim of time-travel messing up his mind, she wants him to get the help he needs (as evidenced by her recommending a therapist later). Her invalidation of his trauma isn’t right, but it’s also a human response that comes from a place of genuine concern and good intentions. 

It’s also worth noting that, the very next day, she returns to the Academy to apologize for how she responded to his story. She does recommend a therapist, but only when Five says “Maybe you were right, maybe it was all in my head.”

A few scenes later, we get Vanya’s first mention of her trauma. 

Allison: No offense, Vanya, if I wanted advice, it wouldn’t be from you.  Vanya: What’s that supposed to mean?  Allison: You don’t have a child. You’ve never even been in a relationship.  Vanya: That’s not true.  Allison: So you know what it’s like to love someone like this? Like, when you’re apart from her, you can’t breathe? Like you would die—and I mean, actually die, to know she’s okay and happy? I mean, you separate yourself from everything and everyone, you always have.  Vanya: Because Dad made me.  Allison: Did Dad make you write that book about us, too? Pause You’re an adult now, Vanya. You don’t get to blame your problems on anyone but yourself. 

The first thing to note about this exchange is that, although it’s Vanya’s first mention of her own trauma, it’s Allison who brings it up first. The second is that when she brings up her trauma, it’s as an explanation for her behavior: I separate myself from everything and everyone because Dad made me. 

Vanya is definitely sympathetic here. I’m not going to argue she isn’t. She tries to be nice to her sister, catches her when she’s distressed, and gets reamed out for the attempt. That’s a shitty thing for Allison to do, which she later acknowledges. 

However, there’s also their history to consider: Allison is a movie star. As I’m sure we all know by now, image is everything to the rich and famous. I don’t mean that as a jab at their vanity (although vanity is certainly involved, more often than not) but as a fact: They are the product, and their image is part of the advertising. Everything they do in public (and much of what they do in private) is pounced on by the paparazzi and spun into the next big story. And this isn’t always fair to them; a single misspoken word can set off rumors that come back to bite them in the ass. 

And Vanya wrote a tell-all book about how Allison treated her as a child. 

As we see from the intro sequence in Episode 1, it seems Vanya’s autobiography hasn’t kept Allison off the red carpet. But it would have certainly hurt her public image. While it’s true we don’t know everything Vanya put in her autobiography, we do know Vanya harbors a lot of bitterness and resentment toward her family. We know she sees her siblings as near-strangers who had an easier time of it than she did at best, superpowered copycats of their father at worst. From the reactions we see later on—Diego taping Vanya’s author photo to a punching bag, Ben saying “I can’t believe she said that!” as Klaus shushes him—it’s safe to assume she did not say kind things about her siblings in that book. 

If the things Vanya said about Allison matched the things Allison later says about herself—that she used her power to get everything she wanted as a kid, that she grew up spoiled because of it—then that would not have done any favors for her public image. And the paparazzi would have gone apeshit for it. Yes, Allison is an incredibly popular actor, but that doesn’t mean the press wouldn’t have turned on her the second they got a juicy morsel about her past. I imagine her having to field many uncomfortable questions from trashy reporters while out for lunch with friends, having an interview about her upcoming film suddenly turn tense when the interviewer said “Now, Allison, your sister—who none of us even knew existed up to this point—wrote about you in her book, and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say I want to know more about….” There’s even a chance Vanya’s autobiography contributed to Patrick’s continuing antagonism toward her, since reading a book detailing Allison’s childhood power abuse could have convinced him his wife had always been bad, right from the cradle. (Or it could have fostered suspicion toward his wife and led him to keep a closer eye on her and therefore is the reason why he was close to Claire’s bedroom the night he saw Allison Rumor her, but that’s another theory for another time.) 

You might say she deserved it. You might say she’d set herself up to fall and that all Vanya did was push that first domino over. You could even say her house of cards needed to topple, since part of her perfect life involved running roughshod over her own daughter’s free will, and possibly even Rumoring her husband into falling in love with her. Those arguments are absolutely fair, but they’re not my point. My point is, Allison’s harsh words to Vanya in this scene don’t come on her out of the blue. There’s a painful history there—painful for the both of them—and Allison harbors a lot of unresolved anger toward her sister for what she wrote in her book. And I don’t think that anger is unfounded, just as I don’t think Vanya’s resentment toward Allison is unwarranted. What Allison does in this scene is shitty, but Vanya has already done something shitty to her, in retaliation for shit she went through as a kid, and on and on the chain of pain goes. Vanya is far from guiltless in their relationship, but that does not make Allison’s lashing out at her okay. 

And this is getting pretty long, so I’ll cut things short here. I’m going to list the count for trauma mentions/reactions below—and since I’ve seen this show multiple times over, I know it’s going to change; so don’t take the fact Vanya’s count is higher than Luther’s as an indictment of her. It’s just where we are at the end of Episode 2. 

Own Trauma: Vanya 1, Luther 0 Trauma of Others:  Vanya 1, Luther 0

Enjoying this series? Read on to Part Two. 

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy spoilers #umbrella academy meta #tua meta #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #allison hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #analysis #thoughts #fandom #number one #number seven #number two #number three #number four #number five #number six

[loulougoingsolo]

My thoughts on Rhett’s story

Rhett telling the story of his spiritual journey made me feel more than I thought was possible for me, and this post is my attempt to put my feelings to words. I don’t know if any of what I wrote under the break makes any sense, but if you’re interested, go ahead and click through. Just in case, TW: religion and TW: mental health, although I didn’t really go into anything specific.

And because my text is a bit of a mess, if it leaves you with thoughts or questions, I’m open for discussion. Right now I feel like there is a bouncy ball going randomly around in my brain, and I need to spend the rest of this day in trying to make it stop.

I spent most of my 60 minute therapy session yesterday talking about all the things Rhett’s story on Ear Biscuits made me feel and think. I’ve been in a bit of a loop all week, trying to figure out why I felt so much. I’ve never really been able to believe in a god or a higher power, yet hearing Rhett tell about how painful his process of losing faith was, made me feel his pain, and somehow my own, and it confused the heck out of me.

I planned to write a more comprehensive commentary post about this Ear Biscuit, but every time I’ve started, my emotions have taken over me, and I had to skip the original idea of including the links to the books Rhett mentions. Instead of being factual, logical and scientific about this, I’m just going to explain how I felt, why I felt it, and what I think about all this.

So, I’m not religious. Most times, everything outside of logic confuses me. I want to know facts, and base all my decisions on the real things, and that’s just the way I am. I have serious trust issues in my everyday life, but in a way, also when it comes to spirituality. I also have serious issues with maintaining control, and the thought of losing this control freaks me out – in small things and major, life-changing things. Losing control feels like someone suddenly pulls the rug from under my feet, and I fall from an airplane without a parachute. Or as if I was first sitting safely in a boat, but suddenly, I was dropped into the ocean in the middle of open water, with nothing to hold on to, and no solid ground beneath my feet. At this point, if you’ve listened to Rhett’s story, jumping from a boat to water is how he described the moment he realized he could no longer believe in the god he had believed in for his entire life.

Rhett’s religion was based on the bible, and on a complete trust in god and Jesus. His faith was what provided him security, happiness, way of living and a path to follow. He had everything figured out, and all he needed to do was follow this path. There is such security in knowing what you are supposed to do.

I wasn’t raised to believe in god. I believed, and still do, in science and knowledge. At around the same time as when Rhett decided to pursue a path as being a missionary, and saving the souls of non-believers, I was absolutely certain that I had a similar path all paved and ready. I was going to be a science-woman, I  was studying environmental biology in the university, and was driven by my desire to save the world. I had found my passion for environmental work as a teenager, and everything in my life was directing me to this path.

Rhett had to really push himself over the years to be able to ignore his doubts. He wanted to believe, because his faith was the basis for his entire being. When he finally couldn’t erase all of his doubts, he suddenly had nothing to believe in – and even though he says multiple times he wasn’t traumatized by anything in the church, he most certainly experienced massive trauma when he had to let go of it all. He didn’t choose to lose faith, yet he did, and losing everything you believe in is traumatic.

Not believing in higher powers, and having all the trust issues I have, I’ve ever only been able to believe in myself. Too bad, it turned out around when I was 23, that I wasn’t quite as trustworthy as I believed myself to be. I’ve been socially awkward, anxious and a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and because of my anxieties, I didn’t ever really get close to other people. I survived through high school and childhood mostly by being pretty smart and just clueless enough to actually realize if someone tried to bully me. I knew I never really had very good friends like the other kids, but I was an introvert, and perfectly happy on my own – and it was my fortune that I grew up in a small community, and went to school with the same kids from kindergarten to end of high school. Life was stable and safe. Too bad, it didn’t really prepare me for the big world, and when life got too complicated for me to handle, I lost faith in myself and was left with nothing.

I tried to be what I expected myself to be, and what I assumed my parents, the society, my high school teachers and everyone around me expected me to be. At 23, I couldn’t return to my university classes after the summer break, and I was in the deepest personal crisis I have ever been. I felt like a failure, and I felt I could never again face anyone I knew, because I had let them and myself down. I sought help, went to therapy, and at one point, realized that the path I assumed I would follow wasn’t for me. I had to tell my family I wouldn’t be going back to university. I had to accept that I couldn’t control all of my feelings with logic, and thus lost the foundation to my existence.

It took me quite a few years of therapy and rebuilding myself to get to where I’m at today. First, I found my joy of making art – something that the science life had almost successfully deleted from my life. I went to study jewellery making, and slowly started to believe in myself again – only to experience quite a few relapses along the way. Despite finding a new path in my life in doing art and making jewellery, I still had to come to grips with the fact that I was on the asexual spectrum, and bisexual, and I’m currently, with the help of my therapist and psychiatrist, figuring out if some of my lifelong problems might be based on being neurodiverse (I’ve been going to tests for this for a while now). All of this has forced me to accept that I can’t control my life quite as much as I’d like, and I’m still trying to find a balance between the logical and the emotional parts of what makes me, me. I feel so much more whole now than back 20 years ago, even though there are so many things I can’t know for sure.

Rhett had to rebuild his belief system, and re-evaluate what his core values in life were. He has gone through the painful process of telling his loved ones that he no longer believes the things they still believe, and he basically had to rebuild his marriage from a different perspective – and by the sounds of it, he and Jessie are now in a good place in their relationship.

What struck me most about listening to Rhett’s story is that despite him starting out as a devoted Christian, and me starting out as more than anything, a religiously scientific, somehow, in 40+ years, we’ve somehow come to many of the same conclusions, and despite the obvious differences, we have a lot in common. We both lost the foundation to our lives and had to rebuild ourselves on firmer ground.

I wouldn’t describe myself a hopeful agnostic, but I have to admit there are so many things in this universe I can’t fully comprehend, and even though I can’t believe in a higher power, I feel connected to everything in this world through nature. Thinking about the universe, I’ve understood that the human existence is such a tiny fraction of everything that sometimes it feels absurd how much time and effort our species has spent trying to explain it all. In the end, all religions are attempts to explain the things we don’t know for a fact, and what we believe is only the result of the culture we’ve grown up in. In the grand scheme of things, we are friggin’ small.

I need to end this (probably very incoherent) post before I get sucked into the loop again – but I also have to get this posted so I can get it out of my system. I think Rhett’s current philosophy of living his life the best way he can, and focusing on this one life he can be certain of instead of worrying too much about what happens after he’s dead, is a pretty good idea. In my own life, I’ll continue on my path of learning to accept myself with flaws and all, and instead of trying to fit into a specific box of any kind, I’ll focus on shaping my own kind of container. I still struggle with accepting that not everything can be controlled, but sometimes losing control can create something pretty amazing. I kind of lost the control of my emotions while listening to Rhett’s story, but after almost a week of processing everything his words brought to surface in me, I am grateful for him sharing his story. I’ve never felt more proud for being a Mythical Beast – being a part of this community has enrichened my life more than words can express.

#ear biscuits #Rhett's spiritual journey #ear biscuit 226 #my thoughts #tw: religion #tw: mental health #rhett and link

[drinkup-baby]

The World That We Live In

There was once, a while after one of the lowest points in my life, someone said he was interested in me and wanted to get to know me. I wasn't interested in a relationship then but he still asked me to share my thoughts.

Being still vulnerable, I lightly mentioned that I felt dirty and gross, and thus just not ready for any kind of relationship. He immediately assumed that I'd been up to some hollywood standard slutty shit history. Cliche, and no.

Jumping straight to such conclusions revealed the kind of impressions/judgement that he had toward someone that he just mentioned he was hoping to care for and know.

Indignant that he be proven not as shallow as I called him out to be, he constantly pestered me for details of my past that would make me a "dirty and gross" person. I did not and do not think I was or am a dirty and gross person. I simply felt dirty and gross. Does anyone else understand the difference?

Refusing to reveal any further details lest I or my past be further insulted, he then proceeded to show his "care and magnanimity". This included lecturing me on habits I should / should not have, sending me articles (those buzzfeed clickbait style quick articles) following his "advice" to try to support his uncalled-for lectures one-sidedly. He also slid in unnecessary self-masturbating commemts wherever he saw fit. These were along the lines of how much correctional effort/care he was putting in to a poor, previously wayward, hurt girl.

At that time I only thought he was crazy sometimes. Lol. What a joke.

Let's move on and backtrack a bit more.

It has taken me quite a long while to recognise just-interest from genuine-interest, unfortunately. I would say mostly because I'm just the sort to foolishly want to believe in the goodness of humanity - à la novels and dramas. Lol, another joke.

In my formative years, stupidly and naively, I asked someone why they were being weird toward me (I had not yet identified what the weird feeling I got from them was), why their texts were always strange and again uncalled-for, but his simple answer was:

"I can't help it that you're hot right?"

That simple excuse has haunted me half my life now. At an age where I barely gave a thought about romantic relationships and where I had not yet formed an evaluation of whether I was pretty, I got to know that I was "hot", which wasn't yet defined in my dictionary.

And as with how I had no reply back then, I also realised how helpless I would be for the rest of my long life ahead.

A generic sexist response to how someone who made us feel uncomfortable in whatever way was impossible to fault.

Come to think of it, the person who said that to me was over 20 years old and already had a girlfriend too. Don't try to tell me it's how I dressed either. The person was a mentor who came to our school - in Asian schools everyone wears a uniform.

Would you not feel dirty and gross too?

I suppose some females will never know what this "look" is that gives you a weird feeling. Either real lucky, or they just haven't recognised it yet. But those who know what I'm talking about, just know it.

Basically what I'm trying to say is: We live in a harsh world. A world where some women may take years, struggling with insecurities and maybe even light traumas without realising they're not okay. And subsequently also the same world where most men don't think they've done anything that bad in their lives.

A woman does not need to have been raped to have felt sexually harassed. A naive and innocent (even the curious ones) girl can sense a kind of interest from another and be on alert even if she does not yet recognise it for what it is.

A woman does not need to have been openly dissed on a publicly recognised medium to have felt objectified. Just a look on the street, a cat call, a comment, has us subconsciously ranking ourselves in place.

It's a gross and dirty side of the world I would like to partake less in every day, much less bring more new, vulnerable humans into each day.

Don't know if it'll help anyone else to hear this but it's okay to give up. Good people have told me "better ones will come! Don't give up!" But what's wrong with giving up? What's wrong with taking the backseat and admiring the other views in life?

It's not like I've not put myself out there before. I've had good times and bad. Maybe that's enough.

#life #feminism #sexism #women #men #relationships

[storiesofwildfire]

"Don't chase the rabbit" (Fan!)

@forsakenmyths

meme: send me “Don’t chase the rabbit” and your muse will be shown a random memory from my muse’s past – status; accepting

♔—- “Our dear friend is banished to Earth! Loki sits on the throne of Asgard as our King! And all you have done is eat two boars, six pheasants a side of beef and drink two barrels of ale! Shame on you!” Fandral shouted at Volstagg, knocking over a plate of food at his friend’s side before he really had time to think about what was truly coming out of his mouth, what his friends would think of what he was implying rather than what he actually meant.

He and Loki had always been close. Closer than either of them truly let on. Most didn’t know that Loki was the reason Fandral came to Gladsheim in the first place, that Loki had been the one to encourage him to seek something better, and that Loki ultimately led Fandral to Sigurd, who didn’t just gloss over him as a pretty boy who happened to be good with a sword, but a proper, respectable agent.

In truth, Fandral loved Loki dearly, and he often questioned just how deep his love for the younger prince actually ran. Part of him desperately wanted something more than friendship, while most of him understood that a public relationship with the prince of Asgard wasn’t practical or appropriate for either of them, especially on Loki’s part. Most of Gladsheim might have just assumed Fandral came from some sort of nobility, but Loki knew the truth. Nothing more than the son of a farmer and certainly not a suitable match for a royal who may one day obtain the throne.

Fandral even believed Loki was better suited for the position. As much as Fandral genuinely cared for, loved, and respected Thor, he’d spent quite a lot of time with the thunderer, watching the way that he handled moments of extreme stress, and how irrationally hot-headed he was. Thor was the break-noses-now-ask-questions-later type and with how egotistical he could be mixed with how easy it was to wound his pride, he often jumped the gun to violence in times when diplomacy would have been far more appropriate. 

He never meant to imply that Loki being on the throne was the wrong decision. He never meant to imply that they couldn’t trust Loki sitting on the throne. He never meant to rally up anyone’s nerves despite his pointed comments to Volstagg, he was just… having a difficult time processing everything that unfolded in front of him.

Thor convinced them all to rush off to Jotunheim, where they killed well over one hundred Frost Giants because of Thor’s ego. The battle resulted in a life-threatening injury that he was still not fully recovered from, and just thinking about it made his shoulder ache. The open vest he wore with no undershirt might have seemed flashy and unnecessary, but the truth was, putting heavier fabrics on the still-healing wound only served to hurt him further. His vest was more or less all he could handle at the moment without risking becoming even more frazzled.

And then Odin banished Thor, fell into Odinsleep immediately after, and left the throne to Frigga, who immediately passed it onto Loki. Loki, he knew, could be a capable ruler, but something wasn’t right with the younger prince. They seemed particularly shaken, especially after their venture to Jotunheim, and whatever they were facing, they were facing alone. Something rattled the God to their core, causing an upset that made the weight of the crown crushing and Fandral feared for Loki’s wellbeing more than he really implied. He feared for Thor and for Asgard as well and having to put aside the trauma and fear of the near-death experience he just endured to deal with everything else only served to amplify his stress.

“Do not mistake my appetite for apathy!” Volstagg barked around a mouthful of whatever it was he’d moved onto devouring.

From there, the entire conversation got out of hand. Hogun was suggesting that Loki was at fault for the Frost Giants, Sif was insinuating that Loki was somehow at fault for Thor’s banishment, and they were both in an upheaval that going to Midgard and retrieving Thor despite direct orders from the king that he remain there was the only option they had. Why Sif and Hogun so openly disliked and even despised Loki, Fandral truly didn’t know. As far as he could tell, Loki had never done anything to either of them to warrant such hatred. Harmless pranks and backhanded comments that were no worse than what Thor’s friends dished out, but nothing to justify such… raw hatred.

They were talking about committing treason purely because they didn’t want Loki on the throne.

Loki hadn’t even proved to be an irresponsible or misplaced king. He wasn’t at fault for Jotunheim. He wasn’t at fault for Thor’s betrayal and, genuinely, he wasn’t wrong about how it would look if he–the new and supposedly temporary king–overturned his predecessor’s last decree as king. Loki bringing Thor home would have undermined Odin’s rule and shown a blatant lack of respect for the king that came before them. 

Fandral hadn’t meant to contribute to the ramblings of angry warriors ready to jump off the edge of treason and yet, as Sif and Hogun egged one another on, it seemed very blatant to him that he’d done just that. His words had been interpreted in a manner that made it seem as if he wanted Loki off the throne as much as they did and now that the first domino had fallen, there was no stopping it. 

Had he not said anything at all… Had he kept his frustrations internalized and kept his damn mouth shut rather than blurting out the first string of anguish he could muster to try and express everything that ran through his mind, maybe they wouldn’t have come to that conclusion at all.

Logically, Fandral knew that Sif and Hogun had already been thinking along these lines, that they would have been prepared to commit treason even without Fandral’s little outburst, but the swordsman couldn’t help but feel responsible. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders, especially as any further attempt he made to soothe his friends’ rage towards Loki and persuade them away from thoughts of acting against the crown went completely unheard. Now that Sif and Hogun agreed, there was little stopping them, and as good of a person as Volstagg was, it was sort of easy to bulldoze over him and convince him to go along with just about anything. With both Sif and Hogun chatting in his ear, he’d probably give in to their ridiculous whims in a matter of moments.

Before the four of them could even decide firmly on what they would going to do and, more importantly, before Fandral could have an ample chance to talk his friends off the ledge, Heimdall summoned all four of them to his home at the end of the Bifrost. As the Watcher of Yggdrasil and Asgard’s first line of defense, they all knew that he could see everything and anything he wanted. He likely saw the argument and talks of treason as well, and Fandral prayed that Heimdall called them all to talk some sense into them or, at the very least, to close the Bifrost to them.

Instead, he only instigated the situation further.

“You would defy Loki, our king, break every oath you have sworn as Asgardian warriors and commit treason by bringing Thor back?” Heimdall asked, to which Sif answered on behalf of all four of them that they absolutely would. “Good!” Heimdall exclaimed as he let go of the hilt of Hofund, the sword Heimdall used to control the Bifrost.

“Then you’ll help us?” Volstagg asked, confirming Fandral’s suspicion that he would be easily persuaded to go along with this ridiculous plan.

“I am bound by my oath. I cannot open the Bifrost to you,” Heimdall said in a matter-of-fact tone that suggested he wasn’t willing to help them. Still, he stepped away from the platform that held Hofund and the mount that would open the Bifrost.

Fandral’s heart sank in his chest. Never in a thousand years would he have imagined Heimdall would willingly betray Loki in such a manner. Heimdall had a strong connection to the young king, after all, so why… Why was he even willing to do this? To turn a “blind eye” and let Thor’s friends commit treason against their new king? Did he have some sort of ulterior motive or was he truly turning his back on Loki?

“Complicated fellow, isn’t he?” Fandral asked meekly as he watched Heimdall saunter off, his last hope of shutting his friends down following after the Watcher. ‘Why, Heimdall? Why did you do this? Had you not gotten involved, we would have been stuck here…’ Fandral couldn’t help but think, but as disappointed as he was to watch Heimdall leave, he was more disappointed in himself for being the one to start all of this. He hadn’t meant to, but intentions meant nothing. Actions and the result of those actions meant everything.

Would Loki ever forgive him for this?

“My friends,” he continued, turning to the trio that stood before him. “Please, let us reconsider this. We are all distressed by Thor’s absence, but Loki has given us no reason to believe he will make for a bad king. Committing treason against Loki seems extreme.”

“Hypocritical, coming from the man who seemed so distraught by the idea of Loki sitting on the throne in the first place,” Sif murmured, though she and Hogun were already hovering closely around Heimdall’s purposefully forgotten sword. “Weren’t you just complaining about it?”

“Yes, I can see how my words came off poorly,” Fandral agreed. “But I didn’t mean for this. I was venting frustration, not trying to rally actual betrayal. Please, be reasonable. If we do this, we’re committing treason, not only against Loki but against Asgard. Odin banished Thor, not Loki. Would it not be better to stay and try to assist our new king to get through these troubling times? We can help Loki–”

“Or we can help Asgard by dethroning Loki all together!” Sif snapped as she took hold of Hofund’s hilt to activate the Bifrost. Fandral felt like he might be sick. Gods, he felt like he actually might double over and expel the contents of his stomach across the floor. How had one moment of venting understandably conflicting and confusing emotions lead to this? How could he let his own feelings get in the way of what needed to be done?

Loki would never forgive him for this, but Fandral wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself either.

‘This is all my fault…’

#forsakenmyths #ask fandral #answered prayers #( side muse ) fandral #( main verse ; pre mcu ) norsebound #index; secondary muses #filed under; fandral #( storiesofwildfire headcanon ) chaos is about that which is possible #( long response ) if it were easy everyone would do it #{ actually been meaning to write up a headcanon about this #so I'm glad I actually got the chance to do this!! }

[bi-kisses]

I'm not doing so great at the moment fellas, not to get too personal because I like my privacy but I've struggled with the result of what I can only assume is repressed trauma for years and it's really taken its toll. It's been about a decade since I entered into depression, give or take, and that was on top of the depersonalization I was already attempting to make sense of.

I'm not one for crowd sourced diagnoses but with the state of my local medical care and the people I have consulted (psychologists and whatnot) some outside unbiased opinions would be pretty cool.

TW: heavy topics to follow, mental health and child abuse.

My parents had me at daycares a lot when I was a toddler, I mean consistently from the age of 2-5, because they worked a lot. They were at a community center and obviously I was a child and don't remember too much but I believe the people looking after us were college age girls and guys, mostly women. Around this time I got a UTI where I was pissing blood... I was starting to become obsessed with relationships (romantic and other reliant partnerships) with kids around my age but mostly older. Again, not even 6 years old.

I have very vague and faded memories that somewhat point to perhaps being alone in rooms I shouldn't have been alone in, people whose faces and voices I can't remember telling me things, feeling somewhat isolated etc etc. Does that sound kinda shady? Am I jumping to conclusions to think I was likely sexually abused in this situation?

When I brought the prospect up (without the context of my memories because this has all been gradually coming back to me, mind you) with my former therapist, she told me it didn't matter. Is she right? Should I not care if something did happen? Is it bad that I want to know?

The reason I originally began thinking this was a possibility was because I started being depressed and depersonalized so young and began pursuing romance and sex before I was even out of elementary school. If anyone has any other ideas of possible instigators beyond what I've suggested I'd love to know - other theories I've thought of include being exposed to pornography at a young age (though I can't imagine where or when), non-sexual abuse (emotional and/or physical), or some kind of undiscovered early onset mental illness.

Recommended next steps to getting over this stuff would be great. The three therapists I've seen have been little to no help.

#mental health tw #long post #personal #child abuse tw #csa tw

[dragonofdarknesschaos]

Omi Analysis Dump

I was talking recently with @rendellstreet about the events of “Juding Omi” and how Omi might have past traumas and triggers based on how the boy reacted to seeing his friends being tickle tortured.  I thought Omi assumed his friends and the Ticklebot were laughing at him, this is after Omi teamed up with evil villain Chase to save them all.  If Omi being laughed at is a trigger for the boy, then that means he was ruthlessly laughed at and made fun of before the new students joined the Temple.  This is why Omi works so hard to be perfect in his martial arts forms, and also why Omi laughs when others don’t master forms on the first try.  In Omi’s mind, if he’s not doing his best he has failed everyone.  Rendell asked who would be laughing at or making fun of Omi.  In XS it’s not really clear, but in XC I would assume other students from before Clay, Kimiko, and Raimundo joined.  If there are other students in XC, why not XS?  But one thing always bugged me about Omi’s speech right before he joins Chase.

Kimiko, going to hug Omi after his return from the Ying-Yang World: Anyway Omi, it’s sure good to have you back. Omi: But I am not back.  I am not coming back. Raimundo: C’mon dude, if this is about before we’re really sorry. Omi, looking into a fire: When I tried to lead, none of you would follow.  When I tried to talk, none of you would listen.  Only one person stood by me, believed in me, and trusted me.  That is where I choose to go.

But is any of that true?  At the top of the episode, Master Fung announces that “only One will rise to the rank of Wudai Warrior.”  Everyone tries to get Dojo to tell them who will be advancing, but Dojo honestly has no idea.  All four Monks misinterpret Dojo’s body language and cues to mean that they are the chosen one.  Dojo, realizing that all the Monks misunderstood, refuses to accompany the kids on their next Wu hunt.  While battling Jack and his new “army of evil,” Omi announces that he knows Master Fung picked him to advance, and he is oh so sorry that it wasn’t one of his friends.  Everyone realizes that Dojo lied to them and go to confront him as soon as they return to the temple, never mind that Jack got the Wu.  This is when there’s a sudden attack and Master Fung is kidnapped.  The Monks’ focus shifts to rescuing their Master.

The first thing that happens is that Kimiko insists on checking the vault, to ensure that no Wu are missing.  Every time Jack has attacked in the past it was to steal Shen Gong Wu.  When all Wu are accounted for Omi is the first to blame Jack, despite the lack of evidence.  Clay points out that it could not have been Jack; this isn’t the evil boy genius’ MO.  Rai asks Omi, who has seen the secret to destroying evil, use his knowledge to help them.  Maybe what Omi has learned can help them find Master Fung, Kimiko adds.  Omi refuses to share, citing his promise to Chase as a Xiaolin Warrior that he would not share that knowledge.  Raimundo questions why Omi should bother keeping his word “to an evil villain” like Chase.  Omi, still salty about Rai defecting to Wuya and the Heylin side almost a year ago, says that “I take my word as a Xiaolin Monk very seriously, unlike [Rai]! ... Honor is what separates us from evil.”  With a looming stalemate, Clay suggests that they all start putting things to vote.  Kimiko adds that Dojo will be the tiebreaker.  Dojo doesn’t want the added responsibility.  Annoyed, Omi says that he wants no part of this “delicacy” and storms out to spy on Jack.

A good leader listens to their comrades, takes in all that they have to say, and then makes an informed decision that is the best course of action so that the most people are happy and benefit from the decison.  A great problem solver offers solutions instead of saying “no” or “I can’t.”  Instead of listening to his friends and comrades, Omi jumps to conclusions based on evidence that isn’t there, then shuts down all attempts to change his course of action.  In Omi’s mind, Jack Spicer is the only culprit and if his fellow Monks can’t see that, then he’ll just have to go and spy on Jack to get some hard evidence they can act upon.  Unfortunately Omi walks in on Jack and company planning to take over the Xiaolin Temple.

After a narrow escape, Omi rushes to warn his friends of the incoming attack, but arrives too late.  The temple has been taken over by Jack’s army of evil, and his friends are all strapped into a tickle-torture machine that looks more like a doom’s day device.  So what does Omi do?  Goes to Chase’s lair to ask for help.  Chase makes a final plea for Omi to join the side of evil.

Chase: Remember Omi, there is always a place for you here at my side. Omi: I could never join the dark forces. Chase: Never say never.  The world is a complex place.  Sometimes our destiny is determined by events that are out of our control.

Through the magic of television both Chase, Omi, and Chase’s army of cats arrive back at the Temple, to the captured Monks crying from laughter.  Off screen Raimundo says “I’m tired of laughing” to drive the point home.  Presented with Jack’s army of evil, Chase transforms his cat army into warriors and destroys Jack’s team effortlessly.  Most of the warriors destroy or defeat their opponents by doing nothing at all or in a single hit.  This isn’t even child’s play to them.  Chase and Omi preform Tai Chi moves in unison to destroy the remaining Jackbots.  Both catch their breath as debris burns around them.  Omi approaches the laughing Monks, clearly shook.  The Ticklebot turns and laughs at Omi too.  Angry, Omi destroys the bot, then frees his relieved friends.  While that happens, Chase literally shakes Jack down for the Ying Yo-yo, then presents his find to Omi.  Raimundo starts to question the situation.

Raimundo: Hey!  Why is [Chase] helping us? Omi: I will explain everything later, but first we must rescue Master Fung. Clay: Whoa, whoa, whoa there partner.  We don’t know hooie about this Ying-Yang place. Rai: I vote we talk to Dojo first. Kimiko: I agree.  We should think about what we’re getting into. Omi: A true warrior acts first and worries later.

Again, all the Monks are asking Omi what is going on, they want him to talk to them; tell them what is going on.  Omi glosses over everything--all that matters to him is rescuing Master Fung.  Screw the consequences and fall out, that’s for near-future Omi to deal with!  Upon returning from the Ying-Yang World, his good Chi sealed away, Evil!Omi makes his speech.

“When I tried to lead, none of you would follow.  When I tried to talk, none of you would listen.  Only one person stood by me, believed in me, and trusted me.”

Not once did Omi try to lead effectively.  It was always his way or no way at all.  Omi never wanted to talk, he did not listen to his so-called friends even once.  Though he is unaware of it at the time, Chase “supporting” Omi’s decisions is just Chase going along with his own plan.  While Chase believes in Omi, trusting Omi would mean that Chase wouldn’t have had to orchestrate this entire event to get Omi to join the dark forces.  Omi acted alone and played right into Chase’s hands.  The only person Omi should have trusted was himself.  That actually might have been more climactic than whatever the rest of the “___ing Omi” arc was.

But why was Omi, filled with both his Chi, so focused and consumed by saving Master Fung?  Not even Dojo--who is notorious for being unable to function correctly if the Master was missing--is terribly distraught.  What’s so special about the old man to Omi?

Master Fung and Dojo are Omi’s first and only family before the new students arrived.  The two effectively raised Omi since he was a baby; Master Fung is Omi’s entire world for a majority of the young boy’s life.  Anyone would act recklessly if they lost their entire world.  Especially a child that knew they could save their adoptive parent.  If you knew you could save someone who meant the world to you, but friends that you had come to rely on as family said, “no, we need to stop and think about things,” naturally you’d be upset and try to accomplish the task yourself, right?

While that explains Omi’s actions, it also somewhat disproves my suggestion of Omi having “people laughing at him” as a trigger.  He destroyed the Ticklebot out of anger, rather than fear.  And if being laughed at was so triggering, why laugh at others who are in the same situation he was in that caused the traumatic event?  It’s an interesting thought, but not plausible given the evidence.

One last point, if Heylin!Omi made an entire speech that was a lie, and together Omi is brutally honest, if not to a fault, doesn’t that mean that Heylin!Omi can only tell lies to a certain degree?  Not even good lies; lies that are blatant as a stain on a white sheet.  His defecting speech was actually an apology.

When I tried to lead, none of you would follow.  When I tried to talk, none of you would listen.  Only one person stood by me, believed in me, and trusted me.

Becomes:

When you tried to lead, I did not follow.  When you tried to talk, I did not listen.  All of you stood by me, believed in me, and trusted me.

Joining Chase is effectively a self-imposed punishment.

Further on in the next episode, Chase notices that Heylin!Omi only wants to fight all the time; there isn’t very much substance to the young one’s evil chi.  Chase agrees to fight Heylin!Omi on the grounds that Omi swear his loyalty to the Heylin Warrior.  “I do swear my loyalty to you.”  If Heylin!Omi only tells lies, then “I don’t swear my loyalty to you,” is more likely what he did mean.  However, the memory is all that’s needed to keep a wholly restored Omi at Chase’s side for the big finale.  This opposite talk of sorts would also mean that Heylin!Omi actually got slang right for once.  “Bring it off/on--same difference.”  And if that ain’t the most opposite thing of Omi, then there must be something wrong with the writers.

TL;DR

Disproved: Omi’s trigger is people laughing at him.  This is why he tries hard to be perfect at everything he does.

Omi’s speech before defecting to Chase in “Judging Omi” is a lie.  Everything Omi claims the others did is what he himself did in a blind and reckless ploy to save Master Fung.

Master Fung is really, really important to Omi.  The old man is Omi’s first and only family... until the others join in.

What if Heylin!Omi can only tell lies as a contrast to Good/Whole Omi only telling (brutal) honest truths?  The speech he made before joining Chase is effectively an apology.

#Omi #Xiaolin Showdown #analysis #Judging Omi #_ing Omi arc #Heylin!Omi

[veridium]

“A Lover’s Vigil”

Olivia x Cassandra 

Category: Fluff

Summary: Another night of sleep at Skyhold wherein Olivia busies her mind and Cassandra attempts to find some semblance of rest. Some Grade A Fluff, Enjoy!

Ko-Fi    //    Ao3

--

There had never been a more comfortable rest than the way it felt to lay with her back against Olivia’s waist and chest, her thighs snuggly fit around her. The way it calmed her heart and made her feel untouchable when she thought it long impossible for her to feel such a way. The way she could just close her eyes and listen to Olivia’s methodical humming in her throat as she perused a textbook in one hand and rested the other on her lover’s shoulder.

They hadn’t yet stripped down out of their resting clothes -- but the fabric and the warmth may as well have been skin-on-skin with the way they had melted into one another.

As the Seeker had began to doze off, images that awaited her in her dreams began to take shape. It was not a good dream -- the first sight was of redness, of blood seeping from bodies never to gain the vitality of it again. Then, the clashing metal of bodies and weapons. At last it was audible: screaming, a roaring war cry. The sharpness of it jolted her awake.

She inhaled sharply, looking up at the ceiling as one of her legs jerked up into the air.

The next sensation, though, was the feeling of Olivia’s resting hand sliding to the middle of Cassandra’s chest, pressing down gently.

“Steady, my Love,” she said softly, “‘tis only a dream.”

Cassandra collapsed back into her hold without much argument. Rubbing her eyes and forehead roughly, she let a groan escape her throat. “Does that fact make it any easier?”

Olivia closed her book and set it on the pillow beside her. Carefully, she put her lips to the side of her head, kissing her head of bristled black hair. “No, I am afraid not.”

“I understand more by the day why you elect not to sleep most nights,” Cassandra sighed, tilting her head back more against her lover’s shoulder. “I fear it is an eventuality all of us must face.”

Olivia reached a hand down and intertwined its fingers with Cassandra’s without a word, a soft and sympathetic grin across her face. Indeed, most nights she felt as if she were a ghost lingering in spaces she was not supposed to be -- everyone else rests, sleeps, and recuperates like they should, but she had long since given up on believing in sleep as a sanctuary of the mind and soul. She had tried to study, to understand why her dreaming was so terrifying and violent. She could only assume that her entanglement with the Fade had co-opted and capitalized off of her internalized trauma, and she had yet to find a solution for its mania.

Still, watching people she cared about be robbed of rest affected her compassion.

“You owe it to yourself to rest.”

Cassandra sighed again, her arms resting looped around Olivia’s thighs and knees. “I cannot get the image of Lord Seeker Lucius’s detestable face out of my head. It has been a month, and I can still feel my blood seethe at the memory of his voice.”

Olivia pursed her lips, feeling sorry for her as she was still tormented by the conflict in Caer Oswin.  At the time, they were still just friends with a penchant for sleeping together or partaking in certain exchanges of affection, but even then Olivia could tell the ordeal had worn on Cassandra’s fortitude. It was difficult not to develop rancor and spite from such things. It was difficult not to develop rancor and spite from such things. Cassandra was encouraged by those closest to her not to lose hope on the Seekers, and to commit to their recovery. Only Olivia got to see just how conflicted Cassandra was about such a suggestion, whilst she showed the world a most unequivocal decisiveness.

“When we apprentices were first starting to harness our abilities, we were told that a good trick was to imagine sights that evoke certain emotions from our subconsciousness. Dreaming and encountering the Fade can be a frightening experience, but if we can ground our emotions, it helps us maintain some semblance of control.”

Cassandra grasped her lover’s thigh a bit tighter as she tilted her chin up. “What did you envision, then?”

Olivia smirked, filing some of her tousled bed hair behind her ear. “I thought of the way the gardens back home are in spring time. The budding roses and the hummingbirds playing in the air. It was one of the good parts of home, and all-too-fleeting. Father, laughing as he cleaned his hunting weapons in the courtyard after a long winter.”

Cassandra grinned, gazing off towards the wall directly across from them. Imagining the way Olivia looked when she was younger, though encapsulated in the duties of a daughter and heir. Her untouched face and frizzy, youthful hair framing her face. It made her wonder.

“Do you still think of it now when you are feeling overwhelmed?”

“Ha! No, certainly not,” Olivia smiled. “I would sooner prick my finger and stick it in lemon juice.”

“Why the change of heart? Does it not make you happy to recall such times?” Cassandra furrowed a brow as she felt the stifled laughter in Olivia’s chest.

“Because, Cassandra. The Fade is manipulative of good things. It learns from our experiences and our exposures. After time, you must find new joys and new sources to keep one step ahead of its grasp.”

Cassandra scoffed a bit. “How is it you have the energies and willpower to fend off such complexities? I find the existence of being a human singularly exhausting.”

“Good thing you were not imbued with magic, then. You would lose that sterling, cheerful disposition of yours,” Olivia smiled as she teased, her hand running through Cassandra’s hair playfully. Feeling spurred, Cassandra tilted her head sharply and gazed up at her with a discerning look.

“Then what is it you envision now, if you are so masterful and essentially gifted beyond the understanding of us who are not so graciously inclined?”

Olivia raised a brow, eyeing her back in return. Her lightheartedness in the face of Cassandra’s impatience always prevailed.

“For your information, Seeker, I imagine you.”

At her admonition, Cassandra’s stern gaze softened and melted as if it were honey poured into a cup of hot tea. She blinked then, feeling Olivia’s hand in hers tighten its grip.

“Oh,” she said simply, feeling like she had jumped to conclusions yet again in a delicate situation.

Olivia chuckled and shook her head. “You, among many things. The girls out in a field somewhere safe, happy, laughing even. Theia before the role of Inquisitor hardened her soul, Naomi when she felt she had a purpose. Veronica, before she allowed herself to become men’s nightmares.”

Olivia took a breath, her gaze drifting off into space as she envisioned a reality where being on the road with her friends did not mean being constantly chased by death. A life where adventure was not sordid.

“But then, I think of you. I think of all the memories I have of you that are not marred in sadness or uncertainty. But, I cannot think of anything too euphoric, or else it becomes harder to control. Things that are blissful, and not excitable.”

Cassandra chuckled, the breathiness of her tone alluding to her sleepiness. But this conversation had become far too interesting to simply go back into slumber’s hold. Interesting and lovely. As she contemplated all the possibilities of good memories they had formed together up until that point, she found the effect Olivia alluded to was potent: her heartbeat started to calm, and her tensed muscles began to unhinge. All the while, the sensation of Olivia lightly playing with her hair proved influential as well.

Her eyes began to narrow, anticipating the restful darkness.

“I wish you were not so tormented by the effects of your abilities,” Cassandra said, her candor bleeding through the more tired she felt.

In return, Olivia tilted her head, a crooked grin on her lips. “‘What would you do, then, my Love? Battle my Mage’s soul with sword and shield until it relented in giving me a restful night of sleep?”

“If you would be amiable to it, I could certainly make arrangements,” Cassandra smirked, leaning her head onto one side to rest her cheek on Olivia’s shoulder.

Olivia anchored the side of her chin against Cassandra’s head, eyes pondering thoughts and consequences of the love she had found in this life. It was a most sickly sweet thing to have in such uncertain times, and she had never known something so shocking in its purity. For years, she believed she had disproven the veneer of authentic goodness in the world, but every day with Cassandra was giving new meaning to the truth of good and bad that she used to take for granted.

She reached and took hold of Cassandra’s hand that had cusped her knee, and gently placed it to her lips. Kissing her coarse, calloused knuckles, she only felt the softening capacity for devotion in it.

Feeling her lips, Cassandra then extended their feel and took hold of Olivia’s cheek, letting it linger there.

“It is alright, Cassandra. I quite like this duty of mine, keeping watch over the Seeker of the Inquisition whilst she sleeps,” Olivia cooed, placing her hand to the back of her lover’s, encasing it between her palm and her face.

Cassandra’s breathing had quieted into a rhythmic pace, but she managed to maintain coherence just long enough.

“If anyone is to be burdened with a task, I am fortunate that the Maker imparted it on you.”

The Seeker then relaxed her arm that had been reaching to Olivia’s face, letting it rest in its position on her chest and shoulder whilst Olivia’s fingers tangled with hers. Olivia grinned broadly, not wishing to disturb the fragile rest that Cassandra had managed to be seduced by once more. She gazed at the partially lit contours of her jaw line, the side of her face sloping like the dimensions of a carved gemstone. Her skin glowed in the candlelight like nothing else.

As she admired her, Olivia noticed the winding chain of her necklace, peeking out Cassandra’s tunic shirt collar. She felt her face become slightly warm -- it never got old to be faced with the fact that Cassandra’s loyalty was so definite.

She stole one last soft kiss to the side of her head. “Rest well, my warrior woman,” she whispered with a grin, before reaching and taking hold of her book once more. Finding the page she had left off on, she returned to her most dedicated vigil.

#oc stuff #olivia sinclair #olivia x cassandra #cassandra pentaghast #femslash #fluff