#and the worst thing is I’ve been through worse than my mental health torturing me so I should be able to push through it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sageinacage · 3 years

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Why I am leaving this blog

This is the truth as of why I'm abandoning my tumblr, @/sageinacage.

CW: swearing/harsher language; mentions of breaking boundaries, sexualization, bondage, non-con/tickle torture, kinks, toxicity, overall rly uncomfortable topics

TLDR at the bottom.

Before I start, I want to say that I’m not talking about everyone in this community. Not everyone is like this, but still a lot of people are, and unfortunately the negatives are louder than the positives.

Having this blog was quite an adventure. It definitely had its ups and downs, but I was quick to notice that it had a majority of downs instead of ups. As of now, I'm dreading being on this page.

I don't feel comfortable here anymore and it's incredibly hard for me to feel any sense of safety in this community, and I honestly feel personally ashamed to be in the MCYT tickle community with the bullshit me and others have seen and experienced.

People go around on anonymous and practically harass creators, I've seen so many rude anons get sent to myself, my friends, and people on my dash. People are also breaking CC's boundaries left and right, and no one will listen to anyone when it's spoken up about. I remember making a post stating that if you send anon hate then DNI, and I lost 4 followers. So disappointing. Actually after I took a screenshot of my boundary/trigger list and posted it, someone sent me an ask and did EXACTLY what was listed in my triggers. It went fully against my boundaries, and it caused me to feel scared whenever I get a notification in my inbox, because I’m scared that somebody is trying to purposely trigger me again; and I shouldn’t have to be on Tumblr with such paranoia as I’m experiencing.

Going onto the topic of the more weird and uncomfortable side of the community, I also remember I made a post a while ago saying "if you support putting minors in heavy bondage, then unfollow," and I lost 5+ followers. To put it bluntly, that’s fucking disgusting. For those people to admit for putting minors in a borderline NSFW situation, since heavy bondage is quite literally something that only happens in the kink world and there’s nothing wholesome or cute about it, and for them to admit to doing it, is fucking weird. Though, I’m thankful those people got off my blog.

I have literally seen someone post art of c!Ranboo in heavy restraints and it didn’t even look remotely fun or consensual. It was pictured, or at least my friends and I interpreted it, that he was being tickle tortured and it was non-con. Though, it’s to be expected when the art is a dark-lit room with an intense tickle machine with heavy bondage, with a blindfold and what looks he is genuinely struggling. What made me even more uncomfortable is that an adult drew it. Another person wrote a fic of c!Ranboo in a lot of bondage with the sign “tickle toy” attached to him. That’s fucking weird. That’s practically something that never gets condoned in a strictly SFW sense. The sad part is that others and I have seen a lot of this happening around.

I was actually informed that an artist the other day on another MCYT tickle server drew literal non-con tickle art of Technoblade (/srs). I was revolted. The worst part is, some people didn't even have an issue with it and reacted to the image with heart emojis. For someone to draw non-con in a completely SFW server filled with a bunch of minors is creepy and weird. Non-con isn't a fun thing, and so many people, including me, have horrible experiences related to it; and for someone to turn it into a "heehee fun tickle" situation is fucked up. For someone to even fantasize non-con as a tickle fantasy just makes me feel sick. There are a few fics like this I've seen as well, unfortunately.

Related to non-con things, I've actually gotten a request before asking me to write Schlatt literally tickle torturing Tubbo, and multiple asks that are similar to that; even when on my request rules it stated not to ask for things related to that. Anything with the word "torture" in it is not consensual, especially in the context it was in. I’ve probably had to delete around 5–8 asks in total from my inbox that were related to non-con or torturous things, even after I already stated in my rules I do not write that stuff.

Another thing I've seen is romantic-esque things written with CCs and then the creator slaps a "/p" onto it, and all of a sudden it's okay? Ranboo has even stated in a stream that he is uncomfortable with his IRL self being written/drawn cuddling his friends, and I see so many fics and concepts of IRL Ranboo cuddling in some way (which I've spoken out about before, but again, no one listened).

Moving on, I've probably met the most toxic people in this community than any others I've been apart of- and I've been apart of a lot, I've been on Tumblr on different blogs since I was 11. For some reason, so many people love to guilt trip here (both my friends and I have noticed and experienced a bunch of people doing it in this community), and the people who get called out for it avoid apologizing like the plague. A person in this community made me and a few others literally scared to say no and scared to advocate for our boundaries, because of how much we got guilt tripped. And no, no one received an apology. But still, people DEFENDED this person, even though me and other people spoke out and explained how this person hurt us. That’s so fucking upsetting. I automatically don’t feel safe in a community where people willingly associate with a literal manipulator and someone who hurt probably over 10 people in total (/srs).

Another thing I've noticed is that so many people seem entitled to something. For example, when I got practically harassed by anons for my discomforts/triggers, basically trying to squeeze out reasoning. No one needs to explain their boundaries/discomforts to you, and this community doesn't understand that from what I've experienced; after being harassed by multiple people on anonymous multiple times, all of which were because of personal reasons I was not obligated to share. No one should be able to say that they got harassed by people on anon for their OWN BOUNDARIES. ON 3 DIFFERENT OCCASIONS AS WELL.

Long story short, I can’t help my triggers. Each of my triggers has developed from trauma I’ve gone through or a bad experience, and I shouldn’t even have to defend myself for my triggers/discomforts if people were respectful and weren’t so fucking entitled for an explanation. So many people in this community can’t mind their own business, and I unfortunately had to learn that the hard way.

I've also seen people project onto IRL CCs. Those are real and breathing people. I understand doing it for comfort, but, the CCs have a literal character that people can project onto, but for some reason, people have to push their things onto real life people. I’ve seen someone headcannon IRL Tommy as trans. That's like the same as your friend "headcannoning" you, a real person, as a different sexuality that isn't what you identify with, and one you may not even be OK with being seen as, and without knowing if you're comfortable with it or not. It's weird.

There are more points I could bring up and more specific things I could state, but I think you got the gist of why I'm leaving. I don't feel comfortable being a member in a community which a lot of its members condone in this stuff.

This is the reason why I'm only active in the MCYT tickle community on Discord, because my server, "Mcytickles," actually respects CCs boundaries and is truly an SFW server, and people are respectful towards each other. It's the only safe space I have in this community anymore, so please do not join it if you exhibit any of these things on this post.

No, I will not be coming back, so please do not try to convince me to stay. I’ve been wanting to leave for about a month now, so this isn’t some impulsive decision. I’ve been in the MCYT tickle community since April, and these problems have always existed but have just gotten worse and more extreme, so I’m leaving for my own mental health and to protect myself from further harm than what I’ve already received.

TLDR: I am leaving this blog and the MCYT tickle community on Tumblr due to the many boundary breaking and unacceptable behaviors I've seen be exhibited, and it makes me not feel safe and comfortable to be here anymore.

I want to thank my mutuals, though. You were all awesome and such kind and loving people, and I’m happy to be your guys’ mutual. I want to thank those who were always so nice to me and hyping up my work, and those who were respectful to everyone and advocated for boundaries. Thank you so much for everything, moots <3 (/gen)

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 4 years

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What's your headcanon wrt Everlark going over the disaster of the "reunion" in D13 once they grow back together post-rebellion? I generally feel really sad on remembering that Katniss was expecting kisses but instead nearly got choked to death

Well now you’ve made me sad remembering it so thank you for that Anon. But you asked for head canons so here we go:

No one in Thirteen tells Peeta that he choked Katniss. Literally NO ONE. Why do I think this? Because when he sees himself attacking Katniss and then launching Mitchell into the barbed net on the TV when they’re in the Capitol...he is shocked. Peeta is appalled by his actions. And he says, “I’ve never seen myself like that.” And proceeds to call himself a monster. Someone who’d been told they choked the girl they claimed to love upon reunion, jacked up on venom or not, wouldn’t be so shocked by seeing himself do those things. He literally doesn’t think he’s capable of committing that kind of violence unless he is attacked first. Hence, he doesn’t hear it from anyone in 13. Also it seems like the kind of thing they’d do with their less than stellar mental health care.

My head canon is that he sees some kind of snippet of it in a nightmare or while he’s grabbing the back of a chair to get through a flashback. He’s freaking confused by this image because it’s shiny (he still had high levels of tracker jacker venom in him so my guess is his first waking moments in Thirteen were sort of shiny and influenced by whatever venom was still in his system) but he also swears he can feel her skin under his, too real to be false.

He sits on it for like a week, torturing himself and distancing himself from Katniss until he just has to know.

It becomes a Real or Not Real question he asks Katniss one night and she doesn’t even have to answer. He just knows it based on the devastated look on her face.

They try to deal with it and that helps. He spends a lot of time on the phone with Dr Aurelius working through it. He screams at Haymitch for not telling him sooner, apologizes an hour later for being an ass about it.

Life moves on, it’s just one more bit of baggage that comes with hijacked!Peeta memories. It’s almost the one that breaks them because it’s the thing he has the hardest time getting past and forgiving himself for doing.

“I left marks on you...” he whispers one night and then just walks out before he does something brutish like throw a pot full of stew across the room.

Anytime he does something that makes him think he’s acting like his mother, it causes a minor set back in their relationship because he starts to think of hijacked!peeta as being just like his mom. Cruel, abusive, jealous, bitter, manipulative. So of course it must be part of the real Peeta, right? That must the piece of her that lives in him. *cue Katniss deadpanning with “She’s been dead for X years. I doubt she could survive in you that long without food.”

It comes up multiple times over a couple years, because this isn’t something you just snap your fingers and wish away. Especially not when sometimes Katniss still flinches when things touch her neck.

They have one scare out in the woods where they run into a tracker jacket nest and get stung, only one or two bites before they make it to the lake to avoid the attack getting worse. When they get out of the water, Peeta freaks out and pushes her away. Ironically, the amount of venom they pumped through his veins in the Capitol means he’s basically innoculated against the shit now, especially in such a tiny amount. (I also love the irony of that as it pertains to Snow and his poison drinking...like bitch you tried but basically you just made him immune to tracker jackers now mwahahahahahahaha!!!)

It’s Katniss that has the worst time dealing with it when they get stung and Peeta carries her home then takes care of her.

“I see you didn’t strangle me, that’s gotta be progress, right?” She says when she comes to and Peeta doesn’t want to laugh but damn it he was just so scared that he was about to lose her that he does laugh. Until he thinks of something awful and asks if one of the things she saw was him strangling her. “Yes but that’s because losing who you are and how much you love me because of the venom is still a way of losing you. And that’s what a lot of my nightmares are really about. Losing you.”

Eventually, slowly, it becomes less and less of an issue. Except...

Any time Katniss asks him to be a little rough with her when they’re intimate, he hesitates, even years later, just for a second or two until she starts begging...

Katniss has to keep reminding him that he wasn’t really himself that day, and he keeps saying “what if I was?” Or “but i did do it...” To which Katniss responds by saying she hasn’t seen that person in ages so she’s pretty sure he’s dead.

Eventually, they have a funeral for hijacked!Peeta. Haymitch presides over it, the eulogy is ridiculously inappropriate and sarcastic. And the geese totally interrupt.

In conclusion why would you remind me of this what did I ever do to you?!?!

#thg #everlark #thg headcanons #anonymous #look at that ask

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marinaaniseed · 4 years

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Dark ‘n’ Stormy, Pt. 11

Summary: It’s the day after the stuffing chapter. New Asgard decides which system of government it wants. Not much smut, an awful lot of politics.

Length: 6.9k. A more sensible person than me might try to edit this down, but honestly, I feel like you’d all be horribly disappointed if I didn’t write all the words.

Warnings: Eh the usual. Kinky food stuff, smut, drinking, swearing, mental health wonkiness, Asgardian politics, body shaming, intrusive media, social media shittiness, uncomfortable family relationships, mentions of starting a family, mentions of dead characters, smutty pictures, some ridiculously long speeches that might give you feels. I think that’s it.

Notes: This chapter, quite literally, took months to write. Apologies, therefore, if it’s a bit disjointed or I contradict myself. This bad boy is now over 50k in total (!) It took a while, because I couldn’t quite decide how I wanted it to go. Also, writing a story a day for the entire year is quite time consuming and a really fucking terrible idea. Typos and errors are all my own but please alert me to anything spectacularly bad so I can fix. I’ve not given this any distance, so I am hella word-blind.

Also, one of you gets a mention :P

Need a reminder of what’s happened? Pt. 10 & the masterlist.

If you like what I do, please let me know.

It wasn’t the cockerels crowing that woke you, but the dogs excitedly greeting someone.

“Whuh time issit?” you mumbled into Thor’s hair, your hand resting on his still full tummy as you spooned the sleepy Thunder God.

“Too early.”

He wasn’t wrong. Groggily you pulled yourself away, rummaging around for something to throw on so you could investigate who your visitor was.

Opening the bedroom door, you spied the Valkyrie crouched down by the settee, rubbing Geri’s tummy.

“Why?” you asked, not really awake enough to form a proper question.

“Why what?” Valkyrie responded, continuing to fuss the dog at her feet.

“Why are you here? Now? At this godforsaken time?”

“Has Thor forsaken this time in particular?”

Your glare said it all.

“I jest, sorry. Have you been online? Checked your phone? Seen or heard the news?”

“For fuck’s sake, Brunnhilde,” you said, startling the dogs and finally rousing Thor, “I’ve literally just gotten up. Because of you. When would I have done any of that? And why does it matter?”

“I’ll make the coffee, you go get Thor.”

You’d barely turned and taken a step, when you collided with the solid mass that was your lover.

“What’s wrong? Why is the Valkyrie here?” he asked, holding you to his stomach.

“Not a fucking clue.”

You weren’t exactly a morning person. Even less so after a few cocktails, and when your awakening had been rude. Not the good kind of rude, either. Thor knew, from prior experience, that waking you unexpectedly was like deciding to disturb a wasp’s nest. Nothing good would come of it and it wasn’t something you’d likely repeat in a hurry. You were a surly, venomous grump, sure to sting whatever had disturbed you.

Either Brunnhilde was more foolhardy than he thought, or something was seriously wrong.

Brunnhilde returned to find you slouched on the settee, buried in Thor’s hoodie with the hood pulled up and over, almost to the point of covering your eyes, in a vain attempt at ignoring the world. The steaming mug of caffeine placed on the table next to you was met with a snort of derision, and it was with no small amount of trepidation that Thor sat next to you, before pulling you onto his lap. Maybe whatever had brought the Valkyrie would concern only him, and you could doze off against his chest.

“Did you enjoy your pizza last night?” Brunnhilde asked, breaking the frosty silence.

“Yes,” Thor smiled at the memory. “How did you know we had pizza?”

“That’s what brought me here. I’m sorry it’s so early.”

Why would pizza have brought her here, Thor wondered. Did she need a recipe? Did she have some left over? Was she planning to open a pizza place in New Asgard?

“Someone… someone, erm, they snapped some pictures of you. The two of you. In the restaurant. They must’ve recognised you.”

“So?” Thor queried softly, hoping that you had begun to return to sleep in his arms.

“Well, they sold them to some media people. You’re, erm, trending on Twitter. I wanted to tell you before you saw for yourselves, some of the reporting is… unflattering.”

Yeah. Thor could already picture it. Being fat and in the public eye was just a magnet for the worst kind of people.

“If they’ve worked out who Y/N is, it’s not been published yet, but it’s only a matter of time,” Brunnhilde continued.

“Ah, balls,” you said, finally joining the conversation.

“Indeed. A few months back, I asked some friends to do some digging on you. Don’t be alarmed, I just wanted to be prepared for the time when it eventually emerged that you and Thor were together. I didn’t find anything to be worried about in what they found on you, but I understand that there may be things that you’d prefer to stay private. The silence of those involved can be arranged, if you wish.”

There were certainly things in your past that you weren’t exactly proud of. You probably should’ve realised that you couldn’t stay under the radar forever.

“No, it’s ok. Don’t waste your resources, or those of your friends. I’ve been alive long enough to know that if the tabloid press thinks there’s a story, they’ll dig it up somehow. Or just make one up. I’ve done what I’ve done, and that’s the end of that. Anyone commenting on my life probably has stuff they’d rather keep secret,” you answered with a sigh.

“Very well. Do you want to read the dossier?”

“No, no. I’m sure it’s very thorough and accurate. Thor, do you want to read it?”

“Anything you wish to tell me about your past, you can tell me about yourself,” he answered, running his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you have done, it’s of no consequence. You’re here now, that’s all that matters. Some youthful follies could not reverse my love for you.”

You nuzzled your face into his chest hair to hide the tears you could feel beginning to sting your eyes.

“Is that all, Brunnhilde? May we return to bed?” Thor said.

“Yes, of course. Apologies once again for disturbing you. I just wanted you to hear it from a friend before you heard it elsewhere.”

You were fast asleep again by the time Thor gently laid you back on the bed. You must’ve been warm in his hoodie, the early rays of sunshine beginning to seep into the bedroom, but he didn’t want to disturb you. His mind was all over the place, so he decided to check the news on your tablet while you were tucked into his side.

Thor’s Hammered!

King of Ass-gard

Pizza Gut - Avenger destroys pizza buffet

Thor quickly put the tablet back down. It stung to read the words they wrote about him, but even worse was what they wrote about you. They didn’t know you, why did they get to judge you, speculate about who you were and why you were with him? You were just another name on the long list of loved ones he wasn’t able to protect.

Gingerly removing himself from your side, relieved when he didn’t wake you, Thor decided to sit back on the settee, letting Loki slither over him. The snake wasn’t as helpful as his brother, but he found it calming anyway.

15 minutes later, the sound of a message being received made him jump. Unlocking his old phone, he saw it was a message from Brunnhilde.

I know you said you didn’t want to know about Y/N’s past, but I think you might find this interesting…

There were several links at the bottom of the message. Thor didn’t want to pry, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to what was that important that Brunnhilde had felt the need to send him a link.

Moving as quietly as he could, he returned to the bedroom to grab the tablet, before settling back down to see what had been sent.

Typing the address was a torturous process, his fingers weren’t quite dexterous enough to easily manipulate Midgardian devices, although he was becoming more careful with them. Still, he nearly dropped the tablet when he saw where the link took him to.

It was a gallery of pictures. Pictures of you, to be exact. You weren’t naked but it was obvious that these weren’t the kind of pictures you shared with friends or family. He’d heard about these kinds of sites, adult sites they were called. The model had a different name, but it was definitely you. No doubt about it.

Pictures of you in corsets that pushed up your breasts and cinched in your waist. Pictures of you with chokers around your throat. Some pictures where you wore clothing made of a strange material that seemed to fit you like a second skin. Some more where you wore beautiful lingerie in vibrant colours, brilliant blues and vivid violets.

The pictures on the next link were a little different. Leather gloves, ball gags, handcuffs. Fishnet stockings and knee-high leather boots. Why had he never seen any of these outfits? Carefully gripping the tablet with one hand, he moved the other inside the waistband of his pants, rubbing at the head of his excited cock.

For a split second, he considered what Brunnhilde had thought of these pictures. Had she shown them to Sif? What if they’d both enjoyed them?

His cock grew harder at the thought.

And he knew he should feel a little ashamed. You hadn’t mentioned these pictures, so it probably wasn’t something you were proud of, but he couldn’t help but look, hope that others had looked, and seen just how sexy you were.

He didn’t really understand the third link. That seemed to be a niche site. You were barely visible, clad in rain gear, and wrapped in heavy duty tape to secure you to a post.

But, Brunnhilde really had saved the best until last.

Bound, gagged, blindfolded. Eyes wide in another as you looked at the woman stroking your hair as you sat tied to the chair. If he had to be king, he’d insist on having a throne, just so he could recreate that image with you. Only, in his version, you’d be wearing a lot less clothes, his face between your thighs, eating you out until the only thing keeping you upright were the ropes that held you in your place.

It was funny. He’d not really enjoyed being in chains, in a cage, when he’d encountered Surtur. But the thought of you being bound, held captive while he pleasured you in all the different ways he knew how. Now, that was something he liked the idea of.

Freeing his cock, he began to stroke in earnest, the images he’d just seen and images of what he’d like to do to you fuelling his desire. The harder he thought of them, the harder he got, and the harder he pumped his fist.

His orgasm was explosive, and Loki hissed at him angrily. Geri and Freki perked up their ears to see what the fuss was about. He knew he should move and clean himself but he was comfy, he was relaxed, he could rest here for a moment or two.

***

Evidently it was more than a moment or two when he awoke to the sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen. There’s no way you couldn’t have seen him, and there’s no way he could pretend it was anything else. He’d fallen asleep with his cock out, the evidence crusted onto his tummy.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he approached the kitchen with caution.

“Good morning, my love,” he tried.

“Good afternoon,” you corrected. ��Dare I ask?” you said, looking at his gut pointedly.

Nothing good would come of lying, so he tried his best to explain the truth.

“Ah, well, what happened was, you see, Brunnhilde sent me an electronic letter with some links on my phone. So I looked at them on the tablet,” he explained.

“Brunnhilde sent you porn?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean maybe? The links were to pictures of you.”

“Ah,” you said, understanding. “Brunnhilde’s friends found those.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them. I enjoyed doing them.”

Thor doesn’t ask for an explanation, doesn’t press you, doesn’t tell you about his fantasies. You’ll tell him when you want to, if you want to. He’ll tell you when you’re not trying to cook avocado eggs Benedict.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles before walking off to the bathroom. He’s glad that you’re not angry or upset, but he’s still embarrassed that you caught him in that position.

The shower is cold, but not cold enough to cool him down from his thoughts. Thoughts of those photos, thoughts of last night, and thoughts of what he’d like to do with you in the future. He could probably roll around on Jötunheimr and still feel too hot.

He’s quiet during brunch, but you don’t press him. You just hold his hand, silently telling him that everything will be alright.

You’d briefly checked your phone before Thor had woken up. There were so many notifications, you were afraid it might crash, and you’d put it back down again. Today was an historic day for New Asgard, you didn’t want to overshadow it by worrying about what Twitter trolls had to say about you. It keeps buzzing on the table next to you, and you continue ignoring it.

“Are you going to check that?” Thor asked. “It might be something important.”

“I don’t really want to, I’m afraid of what I might see,” you said.

“I understand, but the longer you leave it, the worse it will be. Maybe just check if there is anything from your family. You don’t want it playing on your mind throughout the day.”

Thor’s right, and so with a resigned sigh, you picked up your phone and looked at your notifications, dismissing anything that wasn’t important.

A message from Sam on Skype that read I knew you had a thing for older men, didn’t realise you liked them THAT old ;-) now I know where you are, let me know when I can visit. Ignore the haters, they’re just jealous.

There was also an entire chain of emails from your mum, without a subject. She’d never quite gotten the hang of email.

Is this you/??>????? And then a link to a news website.

It is, isn’t it.

WHy didn’t you tell us. Where you were????

Your father is looking at flights.

He’s found some cheap ones with Ryanair, we’re coming over in a fortnight. Flying to Oslo. Charlie is coming too.

He can’t find anywhere to stay in New Asgard, are there no hotels????

Answer me.

“Ah, fuck,” you said, staring at down at your phone.

“What’s the matter?” Thor asked, worried that you’d seen something critical of you.

“My family knows where I am now, they’re coming to visit,” you mumbled. “In two weeks.”

“That’s wonderful news, I can’t wait to meet them,” Thor said, kissing your hand.

“Yeah,” you said doubtfully. You loved your family, but they could be tricky at times. They were hurt, of course, by your vagueness on the subject of your whereabouts. You already knew they were going to make some unintentionally hurtful comments, either about Thor, or about Alex, or both. They were also likely to do the same about you.

“Two weeks,” Thor mused, still enthusiastic about the prospect of meeting your family. “I think that gives me sufficient time to build a place for them to stay.”

It was lovely that he was excited by the prospect, but you groaned internally. Something told you that Thor was not going to have time for much if the vote went the way you thought it would.

“I’ll tell them we can accommodate them somewhere,” you said, firing off a quick email. “Now, let’s forget about this and focus on the task at hand. Brunnhilde wanted us there no later than two, that only gives us an hour.”

***

At 2:10 you arrived at the mead hall, Thor in his full regalia, you in the dress he’d gifted you for the May Day feast. Geri and Freki loping along behind you. You went to add the one remaining cake to the long table of food, while Brunnhilde intercepted Thor.

“Is everything alright, after this morning?” she asked him.

“Yes, I think so. Y/N is strong, although her family have elected to visit. That seems to have shaken her,” Thor sighed.

“It must be hard to face someone you thought was dead, even if you love them, once you’ve been through the grieving process,” Brunnhilde noted.

“It is.” Thor knows it’s hard, he went through it enough times with Loki, but he’d do anything to have his brother back. Or his mother, father.

There are flowers everywhere. Bouquets on tables, bunting hanging from the rafters, and people everywhere with flower crowns on their heads. Thor’s pleased with how well they’ve turned out. He makes a note to thank everyone involved, as well as to the plants for blooming so abundantly for him. There was something very satisfying about growing things and tending to them, becoming one with nature.

He’s not surprised when you return with a flower crown, plus one each around the dog’s necks. He doesn’t think they’ll last long, which is why he’d made sure to cultivate flowers that wouldn’t make the dogs sick when they inevitably tried to eat them. Thor particularly likes how you look with your flower crown. He’s seen you wear one before, of course, but they really do suit you. He hopes that if he has to be king, then perhaps one day you’ll wear a different kind of crown.

“Hello, Brunnhilde. Apologies for our lateness. I didn’t grab a crown for you but if Thor doesn’t want this one, I’m sure you can have it,” you offered, holding out the wreath.

“That’s quite alright, I’m not really one for crowns,” Valkyrie answered with a small shake of her head. “I’ll leave you two to mingle, just don’t be late for the vote announcement.”

“We won’t,” Thor assured her, knowing full well that they won’t start without him. “I fear this may not be the only crown I accept today,” he continues, taking the flowers from you and placing them on his head.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll support you, no matter the outcome.”

Thor knows this, and he’s glad of it. He’s still not comfortable with being in charge, quite content with his life, building things, tending to the plants, and playing with his animals. But at least he doesn’t have to do it alone. After Loki died, he was so very alone. Korg and Miek were great, but there was something missing in his life, a much closer form of companionship that he’d finally found again.

“Let us mingle, I’m sure there are many children who will be glad to pet the dogs,” Thor said, looping his arm with yours at the elbow.

*** By the time it gets to the hour of the announcement, Geri and Freki have had their bellies rubbed by seemingly every child in New Asgard, much to their delight.

A little boy had brought you a small posy of flowers, and was extra pleased when Thor held him in his strong arms and let the child place the flowers in Thor’s beard. It’s very haphazard, and a little one-sided but Thor’s pleased with the end result, when you show him in your pocket mirror.

It makes him ache desperately to have a child - well, children - of his own. He thinks about what kind of uncle Loki would’ve been.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have stabbed them.

It’s too hot in the mead hall. Thor’s been trying to drink slowly, aware that he’s drinking out of nerves more than anything.

Dutch courage, you’d called it. Allegedly, Dutch soldiers had drunk jenever before going into battle. Thor considered that a little risky. Drinking was best done after battle, being clumsy while handling a weapon didn’t strike him as the best strategy. Then again, it seemed to work fine for Brunnhilde. It didn’t really happen to him, but supposed many people got nervous before a fight.

Thor knew you had a Dutch friend, a teacher. He wondered if they might bring jenever with them if they ever came to visit?

Bruce came over, crowds of Asgardians parting easily for his bulky frame.

“Hey buddy,” he said, hugging Thor. “Are you ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be,” Thor answered. A few years ago, he’d thought he was ready. Had almost been crowned king.

He never thanked Loki for royally screwing that up. It was only now, with hindsight, that he could appreciate the favour his brother had inadvertently done him.

“It’s time,” Bruce told Thor, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Thor looks back at you, but you shake your head. This is an Asgardian matter. Your place is at the back with Geri and Freki, not onstage with Asgard’s elite.

“Do you know?” Thor asked Bruce, desperately.

“No Thor. Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you,” Bruce noted. “Whatever happens, you have people that care about you. It won’t be like it was before.”

Thor joins Valkyrie, Sif and several others onstage. Bruce waves his hands, dampening down the crowd that buzzes like a hornet’s nest. Despite all the assurances, this is still a volatile situation and Bruce says a silent prayer that everything works out for the best.

“Thank you all,” Bruce addressed the crowd. “Thank you for trusting in the process and for allowing us, as outside observers, to count all of your votes. No system will be perfect, but we hope that you will all respect the outcome, whatever it may be. It took three rounds of voting for an option to gain over 50% of the vote. I’ll now hand over to Captain America, who has the results.”

Bruce steps down, stands to the right hand side of the stage as Sam steps forward. Anticipation builds around the room, like static during a storm. Sif holds hands with both Thor and Valkyrie, holding in a breath as she waits to see which of the people she cares about most will draw the short straw of heading Asgard.

She fervently hopes that the people will have chosen another option, but she doubts it. Most Asgardians fell on one side of the divide or the other - traditionalists who wanted to continue the existing royal family, and those who felt that Brunnhilde was the best leader amongst those left.

“Thank you, Bruce,” Sam said, grateful that someone the Asgardians were familiar with had addressed them first. “The result is very close, but let me assure you, it is accurate. We counted every single ballot ten times, just to ensure there was no discrepancy. With 50.8% of the vote, the people of Asgard have chosen the option of an octarchy.”

The room erupted with people cheering, complaining, or otherwise chatting with people about what it all meant. Sam waited for the commotion to die down before continuing.”

“Furthermore, the proposed solution, as outlined within the election materials is that Thor, son of Odin.” Sam paused, Thor’s full title sounding odd coming out of his mouth, but that was what the piece of paper he was holding said. “Thor, son of Odin, shall rule as king, and head of state.”

Thor paled visibly and your heart went out to him, glad that Sif was holding his hand.

“Succession will be a matter of blood, as it has always been, unless Thor shall have no issue. In that event, the people of Asgard will once again convene to decide how they wish to be governed. Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall serve as his second in command. She will rule in his absence or if he is incapacitated, if Thor does not have an heir of legal age.”

Sam shook his head. He shouldn’t have let Bucky write the speech, he should’ve known his metal-armed partner would try to stitch him up with flowery Asgardian language. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky smirking, standing next to Bruce. Sam makes a mental note to put on his suit later, pick Bucky up, and drop him in the North Sea.

“The other six members of the council will be chosen as follows. Thor, son of Odin, and Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall each choose one. Two more shall be elected by the people of Asgard. The final two shall be selected at random in a lottery of all citizens who have come of age. These positions shall be reviewed every ten years, unless circumstances, or the will of the people dictate otherwise.”

The place descends into chaos, even the dogs start barking at all the noise, and it only stops when the valkyrie gets to the front of the stage and lets out an ear-piercing screech. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at her, wincing.

“Settle down everyone, settle down,” she shouted. “I respect this result, just as I said I would, and I pledge to serve both Asgard and its king to the best of my ability, as long as I am able to do so. I would like to thank you for your trust and patience during the time in which I served as Asgard’s caretaker. I know that not all of you were happy with the situation, but I hope I served you well. There is one among us, who I would like to nominate for inclusion on the council. However, I am aware that some of you may feel it is a conflict of interests. As many of you are aware, the Lady Sif and I are in love. She is my nomination if you will accept her.”

Raucous applause erupts. Sif is well liked, and most people are pleased to have her helping to steer Asgard’s course, even if she’s a little too eager to head into battle at times.

“Very well, I thank you all for your trust,” the valkyrie continued. “While I have the floor, there is one more thing I wish to do. I was going to do it later, but I think now is best, to declare my love in front of all those I serve.”

This time it’s Sif’s turn to go pale, as the Valkyrie sinks to her knees, turning back to Sif.

“Lady Sif,” Brunnhilde began. “I have lived long and travelled far, and there is no beauty that can compare to yours. Your love shines brighter than any star, and I am a better person for you sharing it with me. I have no title or riches to give you. This is but a small trinket, for I have already given you the greatest gift I have to give, which is my heart. I would be honoured if you would accept this ring as a token of my love, as is the custom on much of Midgard, and agree to be my wife.”

Sif is openly sobbing, and Thor’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry before. Scores more around the room wipe away tears as Sif slowly moves forward, allowing the Valkyrie to slip the ring onto her finger. Once it’s in place, Sif takes Brunnhilde’s hands and pulls her up, embracing her tightly and kissing her fiercely to a chorus of cheers.

It’s a wonderful sight, and you’re glad that there’s something for Asgard to celebrate, even if the vote didn’t go everyone’s way. Your throat goes dry as Thor nervously makes his way to the front of the stage to speak.

“Hello everyone. Apologies if I seem nervous, it has been many years since I last addressed so many,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his cloak. It’s far too hot to be wearing it, but he’d insisted that this was an important occasion and that he should dress accordingly.

“My congratulations to the Lady Sif and the Lady Brunnhilde. Theirs is an excellent union, and I wish them an eternity of happiness together.”

Thor waits until the cheering dies down before continuing.

“I, too, respect and honour the results of this vote. No man can outrun his destiny, and it seems mine will always be to rule Asgard as its king, even though I feel ill-equipped to do so. Fate apparently wills it so. I have not led Asgard well these last few years, and I apologise for that from the bottom of my heart. I have been remiss in my duties. I know that some of you do not trust that I have changed, but I give you my solemn word that I have. That I will act for the good of Asgard, and the other eight realms, as long as there is life in my breast.”

The entire room draws a collective gasp as Thor sinks to one knee. Panic sets in. This can’t be happening. Surely he’s not about to propose as well?

“I kneel before you, as your humble servant,” Thor continued, and you sighed in relief. “Too long, the people of Asgard have knelt before the throne. No more. I kneel before you all, and ask for your forgiveness. I am not the man I was, but I hope with time, that I will become someone better, someone worthy of the position that I find myself in.

“Asgard is not a place, it is a people. My father told me that, and I see now how true it is. I thank each and every one of you for trusting and believing in Asgard, in each other, when I did not trust or believe in myself. Together, you have created something strong and beautiful. I thank you for sharing it with me. You have rebuilt, you have shown incredible strength and fortitude.

“I am sorry for abandoning you. It is the most dishonourable and cowardly thing I have ever done. I asked the Valkyrie to rule in my stead, because I felt she was the best person for the job. I am truly sorry for abandoning Asgard in her hour of need. Thank you, all of you. Thank you for preserving our traditions and stories. Thank you for building a new home for us all. Thank you to everyone who has helped today. Baking delicacies, creating flower crowns, playing music. All that you do, on this day and every day, to ensure that we survive, that our culture survives, is appreciated by me.

“I hope to be able to thank you all individually, but please understand, it may take me some time. I kneel before you, as your king, humbled by the faith you still place in me. I shall work to rule as a king of the people, not above them. The throne should not be an untouchable pedestal on which I am put.

“Although I do not have a crown, I kneel before you, ready to serve Asgard, completely and unreservedly.”

“About your crown,” a voice called from the stunned crowd, as all eyes turned to look at Lorelei. She walked slowly through them, people parting for her, before she stopped in front of the stage, directly in front of Thor.

“When Hela attacked, many of us realised that Asgard was in peril. As we fled the city, some of us gathered up important artefacts. I apologise for keeping this from you, your majesty, but there never seemed to be an opportune moment…” she trailed off, reaching into a leather satchel, slung low against her hip.

Several people fainted, as with trembling hands, she pulled a crown from it.

“My-my father’s crown,” Thor mumbled, stunned.

“Yes, your majesty,” Lorelei explained. “I apologise again for keeping it secret, but you had already lost so much, I did not wish to remind you of your father. I have kept it safe, all these years. I believed that one day, you would be restored to the throne. I believed that day would be today.”

With trembling fingers, she reaches out the crown as Thor lowered his head. Tears were running down his face, into his beard, for everyone to see as he sat back up, slowly rising to his feet.

A collective sense of shock reverberated around the room, and you anxiously stroked your two dogs, who sat flanked you on either side.

“Thank you, good Lady Lorelei. This truly is an extraordinary gift. I thought I would never see this again, let alone wear it. I do wonder, now, what else was saved from Asgard, but that is a matter for another time,” Thor advised. “I have but one more matter to discuss, before it is time to feast. There is much to celebrate this day, and I hope it is one that will long be remembered.”

Thor paused, taking a moment to look around the hall. His friends, his people looking up at him. It filled him with a tiny spark of confidence that everything would work out fine this time, unlike when he had told Loki it would, all those years ago, after Asgard was destroyed.

“Like the Lady Brunnhilde, I too have someone I wish to nominate to the council. Like her, this person is one who is very dear to me,” he noted, looking across the heads of everyone to look you in the eye.

Thousands of heads turned to face you as you froze, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

“I wish to nominate the Lady Y/N. She has done so much for Asgard, though her time with us has been short so far,” Thor admitted. “As an outsider, I believe she has much knowledge and wisdom to offer us about Midgard, its people, and their customs. Her counsel is invaluable to me, and I would like to offer her a place at this table, if there are no objections.”

Deathly silence descends, everyone waiting for someone to say something.

“A wise appointment, your majesty,” Leifr spoke up, and a chorus of cheers echoed around the room.

“It is settled then,” Thor exclaimed happily. “The other four positions shall be determined in due time, but now I say it is time to eat, drink, and dance our fill. There is much to celebrate as we enter into a proud new chapter in Asgard’s history.”

Everything was a blur for several hours as you try to process exactly what’s happened. Thor being king again was something you expected, and he seems to be taking it well. His speech was genuinely moving and you could see many Asgardians visibly softening to him as he spoke.

But appointing you to be one of Asgard’s eight rulers?

No. No no no. This could not be happening. You didn’t belong here, didn’t want that kind of responsibility.

Judging by the way people keep congratulating you, it definitely is happening. You barely have an appetite, pushing your food around, eating small amounts whenever Thor prompts you to try this dish or that.

It had been a productive few hours for the other three newly instated rulers. Between them, they’d managed to hash out a plan for getting the other council members appointed. They’d even found time to draft a press release with Pepper, covering the events of the day. The world media would be taken aback. New Asgard had never released any information before. Along with the details of the election, Pepper had made sure to note that the new rulers would be willing to engage with journalists going forward to ensure transparency about what the kingdom was doing, but that they would not interact with any outlet that did not respect Asgardian privacy or engaged in hurtful gossip about them.

Apparently, the prince of another country, and his wife, had done something similar a few years prior.

You sit completely zoned out, a zombie. Utterly alone while surrounded by people. Geri and Freki lie protectively at your feet, aware that something is wrong.

Even Thor can sense that something is amiss. You’re paying no attention to him eating increasingly absurd portions. He even mentioned that he was getting full and you just nodded politely, a slightly vacant smile plastered to your face. You didn’t even try to touch his stomach, where it sat pressed up against the table.

Eventually, Sam manages to make his way over, whispering in Thor’s ear. You’re dimly aware that they’re talking about you, by the way Thor keeps glancing nervously in your direction.

“Let us go for a walk,” he said, standing up and tugging at your elbow. “Young Sam said that you look like you could do with some fresh air.”

Moving on autopilot you follow him, Geri and Freki loping along behind you. He leads you down to the beach, the sun setting in the distance as Thor gently maneuvers you into sitting down on a driftwood log.

“Are you quite alright?” Thor asked, running his fingers up your bare arms as he crouched awkwardly in front of you. “You seem distant, distracted.”

“This is all just very overwhelming,” you said, looking at your hands where they rested in your lap.

“I agree, much has happened today. We can return home, if you wish?”

“Why did you appoint me to the council?” you whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know if I’ll still be here in ten years. What if we split up? I don’t belong here, I’m not Asgardian. I don’t want this responsibility, I’m not qualified, I don’t want to do this.”

Thor’s heart sank and he let out a sad sigh, finally sitting on the soft sand, his hefty stomach making it hard to keep his balance while he crouched. He’d done it again. He’d thought only of what he wanted and hadn’t consulted you. He’d upset you, ruining your evening.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tipping your chin up to make you look at him. “That was thoughtless and selfish of me, I should have consulted you before announcing my plan. Today has been trying for you, and you were already anxious and upset. I’m truly sorry for burdening you further.”

“I know you didn’t mean to Thor, but I’m so scared and sad.”

“Oh my love, no. I really am such an oaf,” Thor said sadly, pulling you into the small amount of lap he had left. If he kept on like this, he was going to really struggle to hold you like this soon.

He wants to kiss your lips, to kiss away all the hurt and worry he sees in your eyes, to kiss it better like his mother used to kiss his and Loki's scrapes and grazes. But he lets you bury your face in his shoulder. All he can do is cuddle you while you cry, chest heaving against his, while he rubs little circles onto your back, mumbling apologies all the while.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to upset you, to make you scared or anxious. I can see that I was mistaken, even though I only meant it as a good thing, as a compliment to your character and your intelligence. I truly know of no other in the whole of Asgard more capable than you, not even Brunnhilde,” Thor explained. “You are wise for one so young, and far more learned than any of us when it comes to this land we find ourselves in. Please, allow me to apologise unreservedly for the hurt I’ve caused. Allow me to make it right, allow me to pick another to serve in your place.”

You're so silent, shaking in his arms. It hurts Thor in a way he’s not felt since his father banished him. What if he's finally gone too far? What if this is the thing that pushes you away from him?

It scares him more than the thought of Thanos returning once more.

“A trial,” you said softly, as you raise your head.

“Pardon?” Thor asked.

“Until the end of the year, I will serve for a trial period. But if at the end of that time, I still don’t want to do it, then you must replace me, without any reservations.”

“Of course, of course. Are you absolutely sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I am willing to try. I trust you. I trust you not to force me into anything I can’t handle. I’m humbled that you and your people have accepted me, and are prepared to give me this chance. I know it’s a great honour. So I will try to repay that trust that you have, I will try to serve Asgard, even if it doesn’t come easily to me.”

“No one who seeks power or has it come easily to them should ever be allowed to wield it,” Thor noted, rubbing his nose against yours. “Thank you, my love for agreeing to try this. I will honour your request should you change your mind at any point. I admit, I was scared that I had lost you, that my foolishness had driven you away.”

“You’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me,” you laughed wetly, wiping your face on the back of your hand.

“That’s good news, although I hope never to test that theory,” Thor told you, relieved. “Do you wish to return to the hall? I’m sure you could persuade me to have some more wine and sweet treats. As you can see, I am not quite at capacity,” Thor teased, moving your hands under his tunic to touch his taut tummy.

“I think I would like to head home. I’m emotionally exhausted and I just want to faceplant into your tummy and go to sleep.”

“Also an excellent plan,” Thor admitted, standing up with your still in his arms.

“I’m not too tired to walk,” you tried to insist, looking down at your bemused dogs as they trailed alongside the gentle giant carrying you.

“I know that, I just wanted to hold onto you some more.”

Thor’s going to be extra affectionate for the next little while, still reeling from the feeling of almost losing you. Now he finally has something to lose again, he’s resolutely determined not to let it happen.

@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671

#Dark 'n' Stormy #endgame thor #thor #Thor Odinson #THOR SON OF ODIN #thor smut #thicc thor #fat thor #squishy Thor #Soft Thor #chubby thor #chonkythor #reader insert #Female reader #x reader #avengers x reader #reader x thor #female reader x thor #The Avengers

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #357

“your magic white rabbit has left its writing on the wall / we follow like alice, and just keep diving down the hole”

Are you better at telling stories or writing them? Writing, by a long shot. What’s one song you hate, but know every word to? i'm a barbie girl in a fckn barbie woooooorld What’s your favorite magazine? I don’t read magazines. If you could be an animal for one day, which animal would you choose? Probably a house cat. Be indoors and safe, able to just nap... lol. But I'd want another cat as a friend, too! Do you prefer outdoor or indoor concerts/events? Indoors, by a mile. I get hot outside way too easily. Do you know if you were a planned child? I don't know. What’s your favorite gem? Dragon's breath opal. As an adult, do you want to live in an apartment or a house? I'd like to live in a house, especially with the pets I want. I doubt many apartment complexes would allow multiple reptiles and inverts. Do you like the stem or leafy part of the broccoli? It doesn't matter much to me, but I prefer the stem. The texture is more likeable to me. Do bats frighten you? No, I adore bats! Does Paris appeal to you? Yeah, it's a pretty place. Are you a KPOP fan? No, I've never really checked it out. How long was your longest relationship? Over three and a half years. First time you kissed the last person you kissed? We were outside roasting marshmallows one night. Do you have to really know someone to kiss them? Absolutely. I don't dish 'em out for nothing. Were you anyone’s first kiss? No. If you had to be named after one of the 50 states of America, what state would you WANT to be named after? I actually think "Nevada" would be kinda pretty as a name? Do you think morals are universal or relative to the beliefs, traditions, or practices of individuals or groups? I've wondered this for a long while, really. I lean towards it being a mix, maybe? But more towards universal, I think... with some exceptions. This answer is all over the place, I honestly don't know. Is torture ever a good option? If no, why not? If yes, when? No? I think the "why not" is obvious... You just don't. What do you think is one one of the most undervalued professions right now? Teachers, garbagemen, retail and food workers... There's a lot. Have you ever seen anyone have a heart attack? Thank Christ no. Have you personalized your answering machine/voicemail? No. Have you ever had Fiji brand water? I actually don't believe I have, though it's always looked appealing to me, haha. What’s your favorite horror movie? The Crazies and the first Silent Hill, as well as both Blair Witch Projects. What was the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? I'd rather not even think about things the bitch said to me. Are you biracial? No. When was the last time you got mad and broke something? I've never broken something when mad. What color dress did you wear to prom? My first was maroon, second one was black. Who is the cutest baby you know? My friend has a daughter named Scarlett who is absolutely gorgeous. Have you ever thrown a rock at a window? No, because I respect people's fucking property. Has anyone ever thrown a rock at your window? No. Does your hair react well to dye, or does it damage it? It likes to not take dye at all. >.> I have only had one instance where a friend dyed it red and it stuck for months and months, but we kept it in for a couple hours, I think. My normal hairdresser says it's because my hair is really healthy and I guess rejects it. What kind of pet do you wish you had? I ramble plenty about how I want tarantulas and more reptiles, haha. I also DESPERATELY want to rescue or foster an opossum. When was the last time you were diagnosed with something? Are you concerned about anything regarding your physical or mental health at the moment? I haven't been diagnosed with anything in quite some time, I believe, but as I'm going through the process of being approved for TMS therapy for my depression, my bipolar diagnosis is being questioned, which is... strange to me. It's been acknowledged by many a doctor that I have bipolar 2, but if insurance recognizes my primary diagnosis as bipolar, they won't cover TMS because it can massively excite the mania portion of bipolarity, and therefore I can't do it because we can't manually afford it. I'm willing to take the risk by far, as I've never had issues with mania, but I can't without insurance. I'm just waiting to hear back from them... What is one blanket judgment you tend to make about people (like, you judge all people who live at home, all people who drink, etc)? Does this judgment come from a particular personal experience? I really don't know. How do you react to other people yelling or slamming doors? Is this something you ever do too? I get very scared if it's a man. I don't like anyone doing it, and my anxiety will spike regardless, I'm just terrified of angry men. Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? No. Who has the power to break you? Jason still might. I don't know. Is anyone in your family blind? My sister is legally blind in one eye. Do you believe in evolution? Yeah. I do find the concept odd, that ALL LIFE originated from one thing, but I sure ain't got a better explanation, so. What job do you think people should be paid the most for? Surgeons, maybe? I dunno, that's a big question. Were you ever held back a year in school? Did you ever skip a grade? No. Have you ever been given a hickey? Have you given one? Yeah to both. What is your least favourite thing about your full name? I have the most basic white bitch middle name in the world, lol. Do you like the age you are? Eh, I don't mind it much, but I think it'd be better to be in my early 20s versus mid 20s. I'm just always so tired now. I can't believe I used to refuse to go to sleep before 10:30. What’s your favourite kind of poptart? The chocolate sundae one. If you had to eat one type (Chinese, etc.) of food which would it be? American bc I'm not very adventurous with food at all. When did your family immigrate to wherever you live now? *shrug* Are your fingers long, or short? Long. Mom's always said I have "piano fingers." Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who’s your buddy? Yeah, I love it, but don't play it nearly as much as I want because I don't exactly go anywhere, lol. My bud's Charmeleon, and I'm probably like five EXP from level 28. Do you ever sit indoors and wear sunglasses or a hat? I don't own either, so. Do you know how to read animals’ behavior? I honestly think I'm very good at it. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? Yes, but not as much as I used to. All I really play nowadays is World of Warcraft. The only working console I have is a PS2, and I haven't bought a new game in probably a couple years, but there are definitely ones I want to play, mainly on PS4. Just can't afford it right now. Have you ever viewed the moon through a telescope? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. There's no way I could, given my tremors. Do you prefer reading books, comic books, manga/graphic novels, magazines, or the newspaper? Books. When is the last time you ate donuts? It's been months, man. I've seriously been craving a glazed one, though. Krispy Kreme sounds amaaaaaziiiiiing. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Somehow. Do you like raisins? NO NO NO NO NO. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? More than once. Do you like ants? They're genuinely extremely fascinating animals, but they're seriously annoying nevertheless. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. What was your favorite ice cream flavor when you were little? Chocolate. Is it still your favorite? Eh, depends on the day. By the way, what is your name? Brittany. What time zone do you live in? EST. Do you like cats? I love cats. What’s the most creepy experience you’ve ever had? One night when my mom and sister were at the beach for a dance competition, I was having trouble sleeping, and it only got worse when my dog Teddy started freaking the fuck out, barking loudly and staring intently at the foot of the bed. I was so scared that I tried to force his head to lie down, but he fought against me. I was terrified, but got up out of the bed and went into the living room to call my mom at like 3 in the damn morning, and she had to have our neighbor come over to sleep in the house with me (I was in a different room that night). You can't convince me that there wasn't paranormal shit going on. I think the house was haunted honestly, for multiple reasons. What’s the most boring game to exist? Why do you dislike it so much? Hm, I dunno. What’s the coolest place that you've ever been to? What’d you do there? Disney World was very memorable as a kid. We just went around collecting signatures, going on rides, all that fun stuff. I'll never forget fireworks at the castle. If you’re interested in having a long-term relationship with someone, do you think that waiting a certain amount of time before you first have sex is a good idea? Or does it not matter? I think it's a good idea, personally, mostly for the sake of reducing the spread of STDs. Just because you think you'll be long-term, doesn't mean you will be. Besides that, isn't there a science that sex and feelings of love are connected? Like, sex is impossible without at least some underlying emotions? I might be entirely wrong, in which case forgive me for spreading misinformation, but if that's so and things don't go as planned, you've gotten emotionally invested in someone too early and wind up getting hurt. You do you, I just don't think it's smart. Have you ever discovered something big by looking through someone’s phone, Facebook, email, etc.? No. Have you kept anything from your past relationships? (Things they left at your house, gifts, notes, etc) Do you think that’s a big deal for future relationships or not? Yeah, like plushies and little stuff like that. When it's tiny things like I just mentioned, I really don't think it matters. I think some things might be questionable to keep, but at the same time, I don't think it's really wrong to keep memories of a happy time, if the thing still brings you joy and has been emotionally disconnected from the ex? Idk. Do you have any financial regrets? Either way, what’s an example of a GOOD financial decision you’ve made? Going to and dropping out of college three fucking times. I don't know about a good financial decision seeing as I'm not even in charge of my own finances, nor really have any to begin with. Are you a believer in “signs” from the Universe about things in your life? If you are, can you think of a particular example? No. Name some things that one or both of your parents are really good at or really interested in. Mom LOVES medical stuff, like watching surgeries and stuff like that. She is also absolutely incredible with children. Dad likes sports a lot, hockey and football especially. Think of a good friend of the opposite sex (currently or in the past). Have you ever had any sort of “more than a friend” or sexual thoughts about them? If not, can you explain why? Well, we dated briefly, so... It was awkward to, but I let myself imagine sexual situations a few times to help myself understand if I really did like-like him, or if he was truly just a brother to me. Turns out, he's a bro. If someone told you that you would never achieve something and you ended up doing it, would you have any interest in finding that person and showing them? I'ma be honest, yes. I wouldn't actively seek them out, but rather just hope they somehow find out or I run into them or something. What is the most jealousy-induced thing you’ve ever done? Apparently, be the girl Juan liked instead of this girl that literally threatened to deck me. Guess what? We're friends now lmaoooo.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''white rabbit'' by egypt central

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

Note

Passchadaele letters between Corbyn and Daniel cause I miss them ~T

I miss these boys so much :( This is a very good insight into their post-war lives so thank you for this! Sorry it took so long!

(Also, this contains spoilers so only read if you have finished the novel!)

TW // mentions of post-war trauma, PTSD/shellshock, and suicidal thoughts

June 8, 1915

Dear Corbyn,

I hope you are well since arriving home. I am sorry it has been a while for me to write you, things here have been a little crazy. Elizabeth’s alive and well and she picked me up from the train station when we returned. She was sent home early from Belgium and didn’t even know about the bombings of the field hospital. I am so grateful however I can’t find it in myself to feel happy. I’m sure it will fade with time as I settle back into life at home but for now, I will be praying for Christian and Zach and our lost friends.

Elizabeth would love to meet you and your girl one day. She has been absolute thrilled with the idea of making a new friend. We should set something up.

Write me back soon.

Daniel

June 11, 1915

Dear Daniel,

You have no idea how relieved I was to receive your letter! I was starting to think you got lost on your way home from the train station! It is so good to hear about Elizabeth and her safety and good health. Give her a hug for me and tell her that Christine and I would be more than happy to host the two of you whenever you please. I am sure she will be cleaning and baking for days in preparation!

Is your family well? I can’t imagine any of your pain in regard to Christian and the war. I have been praying for your peace every night. I know you mentioned your father isn’t the easiest man so I am hoping you’re hanging in there and keeping your sanity through Elizabeth!

Corbyn

June 15, 1915

Corbyn,

I don’t want to bother you with my nonsense, but it’s been hard. They didn’t know of Christian’s passing, so I had to break the news to them. The formal letter came last week, and mother has cried a lot, not even trying to hide it now; I can’t help but feel her sorrow as well. It feels like he’s in my arms sometimes, like I can feel his body weight in my lap and his blood on my hands and the nightmares are worse. Father has had plenty of angry words for me when I cry even when I’ve hidden it the best I could. I just want it all to stop.

Elizabeth is my best distraction and I’m blessed to have her with me. She’s so patient. Her parents treat me like one of their own…I wish my parents were as understanding as hers are. I am going to ask her to marry me tomorrow. I cannot imagine life without her and when I was forced to, the world felt so much darker. I hope she says yes.

Your friend,

Daniel

June 18, 1915

Dear Friend, Daniel,

That is oh-so exciting about the engagement! I am almost positive she will say yes. Let me know what her exact words were!

You are never bothering me with your letters. You’re like a brother to me and you’re so young, I want to make sure you’re okay; we went through something life changing together, something life ruining together, it’s not easy. You mentioned nightmares? What kind of nightmares, if you don’t mind me asking? I have had a few myself, feeling like I’m back with a rifle in my hand and thousands of lives under my control. Waiting to go over the top. The waiting is the worst.

Just remember that you’re safe now.

Corbyn

June 21, 1915

Dear Corbyn,

Elizabeth said yes before I even could open my mouth to ask her! We were under the tree in her garden and I had my grandmother’s engagement ring in my pocket and barely pulled it out and she was kissing me and telling me she would love nothing more than to marry me. We are hoping to be married when the war is over. I hope it’s soon. Father wasn’t impressed with the engagement as he never liked Elizabeth and how she and her mother are fighting for the women’s vote. I am proud of her though. Mother and Anna are excited for us which I am glad of. I just can’t wait to get out of this house.

My nightmares contain lots of things. Mostly reliving the Kitchener’s Wood attack where I find myself either on the brink of death with its cold grip around my throat or stabbing that German boy over and over and watching the life drain out of him makes me sick to my stomach. Its every night. I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep as I always take hours to fall asleep and I wake up in a pool of sweat. Sometimes the dreams are so real I can’t remember where I am when I wake up. Anna says she can hear me screaming in my sleep often. I want it all to stop. I want to forget it all and get away from the haunting memories of the death and the torture and the chilling and never-ending mud. I want my brother back and I want Zach back and I want to be okay again. I can’t remember what happiness feels like, I can’t remember what rest felt like, I can’t remember calmness. I can’t even shave without being scared of the blade. I’m scared of myself and my own capabilities that I know to be true. What would happen if I accidentally slit my throat with it and bled out just like Christian? I can’t bring myself to even touch the shaving kit.

Elizabeth helps all she can, and I love her for it, but I feel so badly for being miserable and for being such a handful and such a burden for her. I can’t bare to tell her about all this in fear of worrying her or scaring her off. She deserves more than me.

June 24, 1915

Daniel,

Listen to me, you’re not a burden to anyone and especially not Elizabeth or to me. It seems you’re suffering from shellshock; it’s a new term that front-line doctors have come up with to describe the mental effects of post-war trauma. You aren’t alone and you’re not the only one going through this, I promise. You aren’t a bad person for killing that German boy. We were ordered to by the government and you hold no responsibility for that. You were fighting for your life and you did what you had to do to survive. You are safe now. Safe with people who love you and are willing to listen to you and care for you. Confide in Elizabeth as much as you confide in me; she has the benefit of being able to be a comfort to you in person. Keep holding on and being the strong man you are; you’re doing great and you will get through this dark patch. I am always here to listen to you and guide you the best I can.

You’re my brother and I love you like my own family.

Your dear friend,

Corbyn

June 30, 1915

Daniel,

I haven’t heard back from you and I’m getting worried. I will stop by your house if I don’t hear word from you in three days. I hope you are just taking some time to yourself with Elizabeth and forgot to reply. Please write me as soon as you get this, even just one word to know you’re still okay.

Corbyn

July 6, 1915

Dear Corbyn,

Mother said you stopped by the other day. I am sorry for worrying you. I have been in bed the last few short weeks because facing the world makes everything feel worse. A woman at the shops had yelled at me, calling me a coward for coming home early when all our other men are still overseas, throwing things at me to get me out of her shop. I think Elizabeth hit her to shut her up, but I can’t remember because I think I blacked out. It all feels hopeless. Father says I’m a disappointment of a son for being such a crybaby; I think he would tell me he would rather me have died in battle than Christian if he wasn’t worried what mother would say to him. I honestly don’t blame him. I wish I did too.

Like you said, I have confided in Elizabeth and she’s been over often to try and help me take my mind off of things. She’s really amazing and I can’t believe she’s mine. I guess things are getting better although it hurts so bad sometimes. Thank you for caring about me so much. I know I have you and Elizabeth when all feels hopeless.

I want to be able to marry her and to watch my kids grow up. I can only pray this war is over soon and I will be able to provide and safe and peaceful life for my children, free from conflict and violence and death. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.

We may be out of the gunfire but it’s still a struggle to survive at home. Just taking it day by day for now.

Miss you, brother.

Daniel

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mandelene · 4 years

Note

Hey Mandy! I was wondering if I could get some hurt/comfort of the FACE fam?

Sorry for not posting this sooner! I started it two days ago and then my mind flew elsewhere lol. I hope you enjoy it! :) I figured since I tortured Madeline, Francis, and Arthur all pretty recently, it’s time to torture Alfred. (And it seems that the only fics I can write during quarantine are sickfics, unsurprisingly.)

Next to You

Word Count: 1118

Six years of being a parent and his heart still drops to his gut every time he hears one of the children crying. He panics. Every time. Even at the smallest hushed whimper.

It’s the middle of the night, 12:42 AM to be exact. The wailing startles Arthur awake and makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Worst-case scenarios flood his mind – there’s a fire, we’re being robbed, someone needs an ambulance. He rolls out of bed in a daze to investigate, and that’s when Francis begins to rouse as well.

“What’s going on?” Francis asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He kicks the covers away and searches for his slippers.

Arthur has had a few seconds to process the situation. “I think it’s Alfred.”

“He must be feeling worse.”

Alfred’s been fighting a virus for three days now. It appeared as a cold at first, but has since progressed into a barking cough and fever—symptoms consistent with croup. They’ve been doing their best to keep him comfortable by turning on a humidifier in his room and supplying him with fluids and cough syrup, but clearly, it hasn’t been enough.

Arthur grabs his stethoscope and a thermometer before zipping across the hall. Check for high fever, wheezing, obstruction in the lungs. Encourage postural drainage…

Midway through his mental list, he runs into a concerned Matthew, who is already stationed outside of Alfred’s room in his polar bear pajamas.

“Don’t worry, I’ll check on him, love. You shouldn’t get too close—he’s likely contagious.”

Matthew chews on his bottom lip and looks up at him with somber eyes. “Will he get better soon?”

Before Arthur can have a chance to respond, Francis tiptoes over and wraps his arms around Matthew, trapping him in a hug.

“We’ll take good care of him,” Francis promises.

With that, Arthur lets himself into Alfred’s room and takes in the scene. In the middle of the twin-sized bed decorated with matching astronaut and galaxy themed sheets, Alfred is curled up under his star and moon duvet. He trembles from the force of his sobs and is interrupted by an occasional cough.

“Don’t cry, poppet,” is the first thing Arthur says as he immediately sits himself down next to the boy. He rubs soothing circles into his back and wipes his face clean with several tissues. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel bad!” Alfred whines, tears dripping from his chin.

“I know, love. Let’s take your temperature again, all right? Please, don’t cry. You’ll just aggravate your cough even more,” Arthur murmurs. He places the thermometer he brought with him under Alfred’s tongue and holds it in place with one hand while his other hand pets his head.

“Maybe we should bring him into our room for the night, Arthur,” Francis suggests, still standing in the doorway with Matthew at his side.

“If that’ll help him rest…100.6 degrees. Not worrisome, but certainly high enough to cause some discomfort,” Arthur says, setting the thermometer aside. He puts his stethoscope on and listens to Alfred’s lungs and comes to a similar conclusion—he’s not in any real danger, but it’s obvious why he’s fussing. The small fever and cough must be debilitating.

“Fix it!” Alfred bawls before suffering through another string of painful-sounding coughs.

“I know just the remedy for this,” Arthur assures him with a gentle smile. He tells Francis to lead Matthew back to bed and takes Alfred by the hand. “Come, love.”

He guides Alfred into the bathroom and turns on the showerhead. He turns the knob to the hottest possible setting it’ll go to and closes the door.

“I had a bath already, Dad!”

“You’re not getting a shower or bath. You’re just going to breathe in the steam,” Arthur explains before plopping himself on the tiled floor and motioning for Alfred to sit in his lap. “It’ll help you cough up the mucus in your lungs.”

Alfred gives him a teary-eyed frown but climbs into his lap anyway. “I don’t wanna cough. I’m tired of coughing.”

“I know, but coughing is very important. You don’t want the mucus to sit in your lungs because it can give you pneumonia and make you even more ill.”

Alfred curls up against Arthur’s chest and holds onto him tightly. Another soft sob escapes him.

“You’ll feel better soon,” Arthur says, cupping a hand around the back of his head protectively.

“Promise?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Yeah. You told me last year that if I didn’t eat my vegetables, I would turn into a zombie.”

“That wasn’t a lie.”

“I asked my art teacher and she said that’s not possible.”

“Well, I’ve seen many children turn into zombies from a vegetable deficiency.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. Quite common.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re a liar!”

Arthur suppresses a chuckle and feigns offense when Alfred turns around to give him an incredulous look. “You don’t trust your own father?”

“No!”

“Why, the nerve—!” Arthur exclaims before tickling Alfred’s sides.

Alfred squeals with laughter, and some of the light returns to his ocean blue eyes. The laughter, however, triggers his cough, and he starts to hack up phlegm.

“Good. Don’t hold it in, love,” Arthur says, becoming serious once more. He hands Alfred a plastic cup to spit into and firmly claps him on the back.

When he’s done, Alfred stares into the cup and grimaces. “Yuck.”

“Better out than in.”

They stay in the steam-filled bathroom for another 15 minutes, by which point Alfred is too physically drained to move his limbs. Arthur lifts him with a little complaint about how the six-year-old is getting too heavy and carries him back into his and Francis’s room.

“Mon lapin! How are you feeling now?” Francis asks, still awake. He makes space in the middle of the bed for him.

“He’s all right, just very worn out,” Arthur responds, laying an exhausted Alfred down and tucking the duvet around him.

Francis makes a noise of sympathy and brushes a hand against Alfred’s forehead, casting his bangs aside. “Poor thing…We’ll nurse you back to health.”

Arthur occupies the other side of the bed, leaving Alfred between them. “Croup is always worse at night. He should feel much better in the morning. Did Matthew go back to sleep?”

“Oui, and I promised him we’ll let him know if Alfred feels worse. Our boys are attached at the hip.”

Alfred gives another little whine, and both Arthur and Francis cuddle him on either side, offering whatever reassurance they can.

“Rest, mon chou.”

“It’s all right, poppet.”

At last, Alfred calms down and allows sleep to reel him in.

With both of his parents beside him, nothing can hurt him.

#hetalia #aph america #aph canada #aph england #aph france #aph face family #face family #hurt comfort #fluff #sickfic #drabbles

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Okay, but may I also point out that it's awfully convenient that Ardyn has hallucinations that push him into the 'right' direction to fulfill bahamut's prophecy when we've seen that Bahamut is very competent with illusions (Aera stabbing Ardyn, anyone?) And even more convenient that in that one hallucination of aera where she tells him to kill her (which, excuse me what) she tells him it's all because she defied the gods? Way to 'subtly' tell ardyn to do what the gods say or else 'aera'

Hmmmm hmmmmmmm okay. So ... yes you have a point, and I know that in Dawn of the Future the whole deal is Bahamut being the final boss but like-

I do NOT see it that way? Never have. I ... I get where they’re coming from and I’m sure they pulled it off awesomely, but I’ve never seen Bahamut has outright malicious or cruel or manipulative or the bad guy (until Square Enix tried to shove it in my face in a VERY hamfisted cutscene that also throws a huge plothole into the Kingsglaive thanks a lot Squeenix way to rip apart your own lore and timeline).

Lemme explain my POV (gonna stick it under Read More because oh boy is this long).

One- Ardyn is an unreliable narrator. Ardyn is THE unreliable narrator. He’s not only been chilling in total isolation for 2k years (which is seriously bad for human mental health) he’s infected with Starscourge, which is known to make its victims mindless and permanently screamingly furious at EVERYTHING. His memories are not reliable, his grip on REALITY is not reliable. He could STRAIGHT UP NOT BE HEARING what Bahamut is actually saying when they converse, or his mental state is twisting it to a malicious/cruel bent when it isn’t really and we would have no way to know for sure because we only ever see this particular scene from ARDYN’S POV.

On the hallucinations- I really, truly believe it’s the Starscourge doing that, even the Aera things, except MAYBE MAYBE the one where she stabs him, but you only get that ending after Ardyn basically tells Bahamut, the guy in charge of guarding the world, that he’s going to intentionally go BURN THE WORLD and imma get back to that in a minute on why I think it’s not even Aera doing the stabbing.

Anyway, on the Starscourge, which really is the lynchpin to the whole story- it is ... how do I put this. In the INTEREST of the Scourge to make sure it’s hosts are always angry, always crazy, always lashing out and infecting others. That’s how it WORKS. Daemons are mindlessly furious and hungry and infect any animal or human they come across. Now, for most, once the transformation is complete that’s it, memories are gone and hate is all that remains but not ALWAYS and not just Ardyn.

Going back to the Naga and her baby thing- it does not matter what you say to her, she IS going to attack you. She IS going to think you stole her baby and are lying if you say anything otherwise. It literally doesn’t matter what you say, it doesn’t matter that Prompto is not a baby and definitely not HER baby, or that Prompto is RIGHT THERE when she asks “where is my baby?”. She’s stuck in a loop of “baby-gone-baby-missing-find-my-baby-make-themPAYWHEREISMYBABY” basically. You can’t even know if she’s HEARING what you’re actually saying, or some twisted version that makes her think you’re lying. So she attacks, and attacking means a chance of infecting, which means spreading the Scourge and making it stronger. It is REALLY CONDUCIVE for the Scourge to have some kind of hallucinogenic effect that twists reality to being against you and being something deserving lashing out at and this would apply even more strongly to Bahamut and Bahamut’s magic (LC and Oracle) ie the one thing that can stop the spread of the Scourge. Not to imply sentience, cause I’m not really saying that, but any virus/organism/WHATEVER if it’s alive it’s going to try to multiply and the Scourge multiplies through infection via ATTACK.

And since it’s already in there, wrecking brain chemistry of the victim, wrecking it in a way that twists up what is being said or acted or even seen is 100% plausible.

This is strengthened by the fact that ARDYN CAN DO ILLUSIONS. I can’t recall atm if Bahamut EVER directly uses illusions, but Ardyn? We seem him use them multiple times. He uses them on that train to make us think we’re chasing him and not Prompto, then again to make us think we’re fighting alongside Prompto rather than Ardyn, again to make us SHOVE PROMPTO OFF A TRAIN and lastly to make us think a dead MT is actually an unconscious Prompto until we get close enough. Heck, even his Scourge-face thing is probably him just dropping an illusion of normalcy rather than any kind of transformation. We SEE the Scourge do crazy realistic, reality-warping illusions. It’s not LC magic because Regis and Noctis never use anything even close to similar and no historical LC is mentioned as an illusionist. But Ardyn? Ardyn is the only fully sentient Daemon ever, if anyone could take the Scourge’s natural inclination to create illusions to warp the perception of the infected and instead warp the perception of others it would be him.

So this means while ARDYN is hearing “this was always your fate, do this or suffer more torment” what Bahamut is actually saying could easily be more along the lines of an aloof, only vaguely apologetic “so this happened and I can’t fix it” (remember, the Crystal, Bahamut’s nexus of power, could not purify Ardyn even BEFORE he daemonified Ifrit, so of course Bahamut can’t help) “but if you wait, the Chosen King is coming soon and he’ll fix everything and give you peace and also get to avenge you by killing the Scourge through your death, so just wait until he comes to cure you and let you pass on to the afterlife”.

I really, really don’t think Bahamut’s plan involved creating an Accursed sacrificial lamb. It doesn’t make SENSE. The point was to kill the Scourge, even when Bahamut is the final boss in Dawn of the Future (from what I read on the wiki anyway) Bahamut is basically going “the Scourge can’t spread if everything is DEAD”. Why would he wait and manipulate events to make Ardyn Even More Of A Problem then the one he already has on hand when he could have just ... let Ardyn take out the Scourge in its early stages??? It is very, very likely Ardyn’s infection is TWISTING the intent of Bahamut’s words or even the words themselves to make Ardyn fight back against the one thing that could stop the Scourge from spreading.

As for the “Aera stabbing scene” again, Ardyn just said “I’mma burn the world” to Bahamut’s face, of course punishment is involved, but it is also very likely that it’s not AERA doing the punishing. Bahamut has never hesitated to come smite people in person before (see Bahamut vs Ifrit and Bahamut vs Ifrit round 2) so at worst it’s probably just like- one of Bahamut’s Messengers doing the punishment stabbing because Ardyn JUST MADE HIMSELF THE ENEMY. This isn’t a torture of a disobedient sacrificial lamb, it’s tactically weakening an enemy who just rejected your hand of sorta-alliance and also minutes ago tried to kill the Chosen King’s dad before your Chosen King could be born.

But Ardyn’s brain, which has already hallucinated Somnus taunting him in the place of freaking out Kingsglaives mind you, is putting Aera there because that’s what will make Ardyn the angriest, that’s what will make him lash out the most. The same goes for Aera telling Ardyn to kill her because she defied the gods, what better way to direct Ardyn’s fury at the one thing that could stop the Scourge than to BLAME THE DEATH OF ARDYN’S LOVER on them? And for either of these, Bahamut wouldn’t even know it’s happening or why it’s significant, because Bahamut doesn’t ... GET humans and that leads into my second point:

Why I think Bahamut isn’t actually a horrible, intentionally cruel dude:

Okay so- I do not condone a lot of the stuff Bahamut chooses, because hey I like Noctis and Ardyn too and yeah Bahamut’s plan sucks and could have been way better from our POV, but I genuinely do not see him as malicious or manipulative in this. Not like Dawn of the Future, Episode Ardyn, or some fanfic authors make him out to be (for all that’s a very valid position and can be excellently written) and here’s WHY.

Bahamut is not human. For all he can speak to humans and is humanoid in shape he IS NOT HUMAN. He does not think like a human, he does not perceive time like a human, his POV is entirely alien to humans. Ifrit and Shiva were the closest to humans because they intentionally tried to figure them out, but even THEY don’t get humans entirely, for all Ifrit used to love them and Shiva still does. Bahamut on the other hand, never had or took that chance. He’s the big picture guy, the head of the pantheon. He’s in charge of keeping the entire freaking planet from being killed somehow, which is why he stepped in and was the final one of the five to kill Ifrit the first time and not, say, our local cranky sea snek of pure rage.

Bahamut isn’t cruel, he just genuinely does not understand that his plan is messed up. Worse, at his core, he’s a Strategist without an emotional anchor or someone to keep him in moral check. It’s either Fanon or actual canon that he’s the Astral of War, and while War can be a lot of things, in mythology a “god of war” is usually one of two things: rage monster or STRATEGIST. The one in charge of making the hard choices. The one who looks at the battlefield and says “if I do nothing, all my men and the people I protect will die. If I move these two units in to attack the enemy flank, a lot of those men in those units will die BUT it will confuse the enemy into letting me defeat them with the main force, thereby saving the majority of my force and everyone I’m protecting”. Minimal losses for maximum gain. It’s not nice, it’s not pretty, maybe it isn’t even moral, but war is a lot of things and moral tends not to be one of them, so that kind of strategy is NECESSARY in certain moderation.

Now, the Astrals can’t fix the Scourge, likely because their war with Ifrit not only robbed them of a key member (recall that in most mythology fire is PURIFICATION) but also severely weakened them. They went to sleep for a reason, they were trying to recoup their lost power. But when it takes so long to recharge and the Scourge keeps getting worse in the meantime, it’s a war of attrition the Astrals could win, but humanity and the planet wouldn’t so another method is needed. Bahamut doesn’t know humans, and considering their role in Ifrit’s fall (aka the start of the whole Astrals Can’t Fix This issue) he has no reason to trust their teamwork or obedience skills. The one time he DOES in the form of Somnus and Ardyn … well. Look what happens.

So, Bahamut has to make a plan to save the world. He does not understand how humans think, he does not TRUST humans enough to be anything more than temporary troops at best, and he needs to do something. So in his mind- either he can let the world burn, or he can sacrifice 116 (counting Ardyn and Luna) humans to a plan that will save the world and only requires most of those humans to be essentially living batteries. It doesn’t matter what the Lucii did in life, after death their magic went into the Crystal, no responsibility or teamwork necessary. The only two who need to Do A More Complicated Job is Noctis, who needs to gather power and then sit on a chair and die, and Luna, who needs to wake up the other Astrals. That’s it. 116 people and the world’s simplest instructions (to an Astral anyway) and boom, entire planet and billions of lives are saved. Billions of lives Bahamut is in charge of guarding, billions who he knows just as well (or in this case just as not well) as the LCs and Oracles. People living and loving and hoping and dying all in the same blinks of time as the LCs that we love but to Bahamut are just - strangers. Useful strangers. But strangers.

To summarize, Bahamut is stuck in the world’s biggest version of that railway switch scenario in Psychology class: If there are five people stuck on one railway track and one person stuck on the other, and a speeding train set to kill all five, would you stand back and let the five die or would you flip the switch to the alternate track and sentence the other one person to death? Only in Bahamut’s case it’s: will you sentence 116 people to live and die for a prophecy (past Oracles don’t count as they don’t expressly need to die for the Prophecy, they aren’t even living batteries, only Luna needs to die for the cause) to save billions across multiple generations to stop a plague, or will you sit back and watch as they ALL die.

And that’s not even touching on the Time thing where, to Bahamut, this entire plan might not even TAKE that long. Sure to humans it’s 2k years and however many people getting turned into daemons, but in the original plan (Ardyn being Chosen King) that wouldn’t have happened and in this backup plan (Noctis being Chosen King) what to us is centuries could, for Bahamut easily be closer to an annoying but expected wait in the doctor’s office. He sentenced Gilgamesh to wait until the coming of the Last Shield but considering how long the Astrals live and have lived that’s easily just the world’s most stern and aggressive Time Out to his eyes, especially since the whole “living on in a suit of armor rather than original body” means very little to beings who can and have been shown to react to death by sighing, making new bodies, and then going about their day like usual. Those thousands, maybe millions, who die to the Scourge in the meantime? Well no he doesn’t like it, but there is still X billions of living humans he needs to safeguard and it’s not HIS fault that Chosen King One went and got himself infected and then stabbed by his brother now is it? Ardyn comes to him all infected and crazy and Bahamut is essentially going “I can’t fix this and you were supposed to be Chosen King but now you’re the Accursed. Bright Side, you can still find peace in the afterlife and have the bonus of taking the Starscourge out with you (Vengeance is, after all, one of the few things humans and Astrals share a concept of). All you have to do is let the new Chosen King stab you.” He’s just saying it in the vaguest, nastiest, I-will-not-admit-that-my-plan-blew-up-in-my-face way that the Scourge then twisted to an outright “this was my plan all along now do your job and die stupid mortal” kinda way.

So … yeah stupid long ramble but TD:LR the Starscourge shows illusionary and manipulation powers far more often and more thoroughly than Bahamut ever did and while it is Totally Valid and Plausible that Bahamut is a terrible, manipulative person, he has and always will strike me more as a non-human Strategist trying to do his job and being Really Arrogant and Vague about it when his plan goes off the rails and he needs to resort to Plan 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Of course, if Manipulative Bad Guy Bahamut makes more sense to you then cool. But this is just the perspective I take in like- all my ffxv AUs and I felt the need to finally put it out there since the topic finally came up.

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #SE theorizes #i hope i don't lose followers for this #but like #this version is so much more interesting #the thought that all the tragedy #is really a series of accidents #mistakes #and miscommunications #hurts so much more #has so much more POTENTIAL #then just a 'blargh i'm an evil corrupt astral manipulating things for lols'

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just-horrible-things · 4 years

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(Content warnings for: torture, isolation, conditioning, dehumanisation, mental health - no self esteem, severe dissociation, and a lot of very fucky, very muddled up thoughts.)

---

He understands, dimly, that she is repairing him. Fixing the damage she did. Coaxing him with small pains to move on command, to look at her, to speak.

It’s like waking from the worst kind of nightmare, the kind that clings and wraps its claws around the mind and tries to keep you under.

His thoughts stopped, for a while. He has no idea how long. She stopped coming to see him. He thought he never wanted to see her again, but it was worse without her. At least she spoke to him. Asked questions. Offered opportunities to reduce the pain, or at least put it off a few minutes, a few seconds more.

Without her, the guards only hurt him in silence. The whip, the hot iron, the rack. Boots and fists and the whip again. Pain and darkness and pain and darkness and pain until somehow the familiar hum in his mind of being himself failed and went quiet.

His mind doesn’t want to wake from that nightmare into this one.

He used to know about making his thoughts quiet. It’s been a long time, since he was able to focus enough to achieve that. A long time since it even ocurred to him to try. But that is the quiet of still water. A mind cool and deep and clear and undisturbed.

This is like someone pulled out the bottom and drained the pool.

Thoughts are returning in little trickles. Simple thoughts at first. Hope for mercy, for water, for food. The curse of wondering how long he has before they come back for him. How long he has to rest. How long he has to endure the aloneness. Thoughts like I’m cold or I don’t want to wake up.

Now he is starting to see more clearly again. He remembers that he lives in a cell, and that she is in control, and that she owns his life. He remembers the questions, and the terror of being unable to answer. He knows that there is no way out, just a bleak future of torture and maybe finally execution to cast his soul to the beasts.

But she hasn’t asked any questions, not since the long unbearable stretch when she was gone. When he stopped talking to himself in the darkness, and stopped thinking to himself in the void inside his skull.

She promises now that if he only does as he’s told, she won’t hurt him any more.

He tries to remember if she has ever gone back on her promises. He wants to believe. He’d rather deal with the pain of having that belief crushed, some time in the unthinkable future, than live now with the knowledge that she might flay open his back again at any time, for no reason at all.

She won’t hurt me if I do as I’m told.

He repeats it to himself, urging the lesson to sink in deep. He wants to believe in a way to escape further agony.

He repeats the other words she gives him too.

I am nothing. I am worthless. I belong to you. She won’t hurt me if I do as I’m told.

The words were already familiar by the time he started to come alive again. She’s had him repeat them so many times. The meaning didn’t reach him at first. It was just noise, just words he repeated to receive water or forestall pain.

But the repetition made them familiar and comfortable in his mouth.

And now he understands the meaning. She has made him move and speak and think until there is enough in his head to dwell on the words she makes him say.

I am nothing.

Not human. Not a person. Not even an animal. Just an empty shell, a broken thing. It feels true. He knows he used to be a person, but he doesn’t feel like one any more. He’s just a shell of pain, and the unhappy point of light that shelters here from the worse things Beyond.

I am nothing.

How awful would it be, to feel like a person and have to live through this degradation, this isolation, this endless nightmare? He is almost glad to be nothing.

I belong to her.

Also objectively true. She keeps his body locked in this cell and his mind crushed beneath the weight of pain and exhaustion. It might have stung once but now it is simple fact. She controls everything. She has possession of him, totally and completely.

I am worthless.

He likes that one the least.

But he thinks it is probably true. Probably.

It’s uncomfortable, saying the words when he isn’t sure he believes. Lying to her is uncomfortable. Degrading himself is uncomfortable. It wasn’t uncomfortable when it was just noise.

If he believes, it won’t be uncomfortable any more.

She wants him to believe, and he wants to do as he is told so that she doesn’t hurt him any more.

So he wants to believe.

That’s not so hard. He knows about rearranging his thoughts, reordering them against the daemonic. Not so different, to reorder them against the uncomfortable remnants of his self.

“I am worthless,” he whispers to the darkness. “Useless, t-traitorous heretic scum. I’ve n-never achieved anything. I’ve d-done wrong. I’m stupid, and worthless, and I l-live only at her will.”

Tears trickle across his face. The warmth is familiar, barely noticed.

“I am worthless. I am nothing. I d-d-deserve, I d-deserve to b-be p-punished for my, f-for my sins.”

#my writing #my ocs #tacitus #tacitus in captivity #ariadne #tw torture #tw isolation #tw dehumanisation #tw dissociation #tw mental health #tw low self esteem #tw conditioning #tw deprivation #tw captivity #tw religious abuse #tw psychological trauma #psychological horror #tw stockholm syndrome

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animeperspectivism · 4 years

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“7 Seeds”, PTSD and the Elite Team, Analysis and Review.

"7 Seeds” was originally a manga written and illustrated by Yumi Tamura, and published by Shogakukan. The demographic falls into shojo as well as josei, meaning that it’s a series directed at young girls and women. The story and plot are quite interesting, and I’m saddened to know that there is not a legal English translation of the manga. The anime itself, which is what I will be covering, is really bad, and it’s quite unfortunate that it’s the only legal form of “7 Seeds” that Westerners can experience.

SPOILERS AHEAD, for both seasons.

The first season is absolutely apalling, and the story only comes around by the end of the second season. I don’t want to talk about the series as a whole, as I’ve already attempted a synopsis of the show but gave up simply because the story is quite extensive, the cast is huge, and it was just turning into a rambling mess. Instead, I’d like to detail the representation of PTSD in the series, specifically occuring in the elite Summer Team A, and even more specifically in the character Ango.

The series introduces Summer Team A, and we don’t know too much about them, besides how efficient they are at surviving. What the viewers do get to see are the refferences from members on the team to their “final test”, and how some of the incidents and injuries that they see end up reminding them of it. Further on, we find out that Hana, who is one of the main characters that we follow from the Spring Team, is the daughter of the man who helped to organized and train the elite team. When Ango realizes this, he breaks down. He was an asshole in the first place, but as he puts his hands to his head and screams, we dive into a backflash. The story is so badly put together, the scenes are garbage, the cuts are bad, and the animation is even worse. But the story? I really liked it. It is absolutely horrifying, and the kind of trauma that these 7 kids come out of it with, is completely understandable. Basically, there are a number of kids who are picked and raised in a facility. The backflash begins with a teacher telling them that they’re all special, and that they have the opportunity of heading into the future, of “boarding Noah’s Arc”. These are children, and we’re kind of shown in brief clips of the kids working together, building things, whatever, and it seems relatively normal. What they all knew was that only 7 kids would be able to succeed, so they each felt a need to work hard. But what they didn’t know was what happened to the kids who had failed and were sent away. The backflash shows a brief story of three girls who are close friends, who made some different coloured friendship bracelets, but one of these girls is sent away. She promises that she’ll send letters to them from the “outside world”, but they never recieve anything. At one point, Ango attacks a teacher who is harassing one of the girls, Kotori, and is sent to “solitary punishment” in what they called The Red Room. Dear god. Ango explains what this room is, and it turns out to be a part of a device that shreds livestock to create fertilizer. The room is filled with literal blood and guts, ect., and the punishment is to stand in the sludge for hours or days, we don’t really know how long he’s gone. But what happens is seriously awful. He looks into the blood and a literal hand starts floating, and he recognizes the bracelet that is still connected. It was their friend who had been sent away. The blood that he’s standing in, for however long, is the remains of all of their friends. Fucking sick. The poor fucking guy, traumatized to hell, as anybody would be, he doesn’t tell anyone. He keeps this knowledge inside until the “final test”, when everyone has turned 17. And this test is just about as horrendous. The professors and teachers literally sabotage the tools and training supplies. Hana’s father, Professor Takahashi, reveals to Ango that the theme of the test is “attentiveness”. Kids are injured and killed by these situations that are intentionally set up to pick these kids off, and every event becomes more and more extreme. Food supplies are poisoned, to the extent that they choose to grow their own food, some kids are even found dead due to carbon monoxide poisoning, their school facility is burnt down completely, we see floods and even buildings and mountainsides collapsing on these kids. They’re dying left and right. These kids grew up with eachother, and it seriously affected them as they watched as their friends died, finding out later that this outcome was orchestrated by the teachers that they trusted.

Ango, specifically, struggles with a close friend, Shigeru, who realizes that Ango never saw him as an equal, only someone to protect. This is during the “final test”, so Ango is kind of faced with the idea that this is the last chance for him to be one of the 7, and he might have to choose between himself and Shigeru. In the end, after some really bad animation and horrible editing, Shigeru takes it upon himself to cut his rope in the final trial, falling to his death. By the end of this, when the 7 kids are the only ones left, we get this sad scene where each person is crying, asking why they were chosen? Why was it them and not any other of their close friends that they watched die? This was probably one of my favourite scenes from the series. It was just so real, and made us see the elite team quite differently. They wanted to be one of the top 7, but they were never privvy to the truth of how they would get there, and this moment was when they were really realizing what they were being put through. In the current timeline of the series, all we’ve seen are a group of assholes who have literally murdered a “civilian” from the Fall Team (he was infected with an airborne virus..?), and then they tested some food and medicine on an injured person later on. They’re a group of kids who have basically never learned empathy. They were raised in a trianing facility, taught to work together until the “final test” when it was literally each individual against every other person. This is the kind of dynamic that we see Ango go through. It’s revealed that one of the elite team’s “duties” is to teach the civilians ways to survive, as well as protect them, but Ango is trapped by the idea that “they” were chosen and that “they” each fought to be here, while the civilians were simply “lucky”. They were chosen for absolutely no reason, they have remotely no useful skills, and Hana is the worst offender in his mind, as she was sent here simply becuase of who her father was. To me, this mindest makes perfect fucking sense. It’s “cause and effect”. Summer A Team have been mentally and physically tortured, and for their entire lives it was a “competition” to even be able to survive in this future. None of the training that we saw ever promoted these people to want to “help” anyone, and until the second season, we really only see the elite members struggle with the idea that they have to work with “unchosen” civillians.

By the second season, Ango goes off the rails, he attempts to rape Hana, but an elite team member stops him, and nobody finds out of course.The group then proceeds to look for fresh water in a cave. Hana’s rope is cut by Ryo, because he sees her existence as a detriment to Ango’s fucking mental health, so she falls but survives but ends up in an underground river. Ango goes off by himself, is lost, and kind of gets confused about his whereabouts. Later, in the second season, we see this as well, where his mind goes back to the trauma. He thinks that he’s in the cave where Shigeru died, still in the “final test”. When he sees Hana he comes back, but he chooses not to help her. The other teammates catch up, specifially Kotori, Aramaki, and Haru, who all want to save her, but Hana can’t hold on long enough and disappears into a goddamn hole. She is actually gone after this, for most of the second season even, which is unfortunate because I kind of liked her.

Anyway, the remaining elite team figure that building a camp and staying close to the fresh water they’ve just found is the best idea. It’s also an important point that a character on the Fall Team is actually pregnant, meaning that she would need somewhere safe to have her baby, and most of the elites decide that it would be a prefferable opportunity to remain at the side of the civilians. And because of Hana’s departure and witnesses who saw Ango refusing to help her, some of the civilians felt that Ango was a danger. The Summer A Team member who stopped Ango’s assult on Hana tells everyone of what he did, therefore adding another charge against him. In the end, it’s only Ryo who is on his side, and everyone decides that banishment is the best punishment.

Then begins the second season, which I much preffered. We get to follow the Summer B Team, who are residing on some sort of luxury boat (including a sauna? damn). Ryo and Ango actually join the team, not really revealing much about themselves or where they came from, so they’re quite mysterious, but Summer B is a group of pretty eccentric characters. This is the season that builds on Ango’s character, and I think that’s why I liked it so much. The beginning of this season is really nuts, because Ryo and Ango both have to figure out that these people are not actually useless, and that their skills fall into other categories than the survivalist way of being that they were trained in. We see Ryo setting up traps for the team, in the same way that the teachers had done to them during the “final test”. Members are set up to fail, and it’s almost by pure luck that most of these idiots survive. We also see how Ango deals with this, as he’s forced to either accept the outcome that this team of idiots will easily die because they lack any “attentiveness” whatsoever, or he can step in and help them. Ryo at one point closes the windows while the team are warming up with a fire in the cabin, and they start to pass out due to monoxide poisoning. This is reminiscent of the previous traps that actually killed kids, so it’s as if Ryo wants to test this less efficient team. I felt like this was really dumb, because these people are not trained, therefore, what is the point of setting them up? They’re simply going to fail. It might have been a test for Ango specifically, just to see what sort state of mind he’s curently in. He does end up saving the team from the monoxide poisoning, noticing it the earliest. He actually gets attached to this team, really wanting to protect the main female character, Natsu, as she reminds him of Shigeru.

Later on in this season, the team adventures into some strange ship that was designed as a sort of “vault” for humanity to attempt survival. The boat is affected by a sort of iron-oxidizing bacteria that has evolved, becoming dangerous and maneating. At first the team gets locked inside, and they all have to work together in order to stop the ship from self-destructing and firing an atom bomb into Japan? I don’t even know. The story was built up and it was relatively interesting, but the growth of the characters was even better. Ango gets lost, separated from Ryo and wanders the ship, finding a level that is extremely affected by the bacteria. Because the area looks a lot like cave walls, his trauma starts to affect him again. He thinks that he’s back in the cave with Shigeru, and he’s searching for him. Ango still has his gun, and ends up firing at Arashi, thinking that he’s actually Professor Takashi, testing him again. The two end up sticking together, attempting to find the others. They do end up finding Natsu, who is in the process of climbing precariously across crane structure. Ango and Arashi are trapped below, and call out to her for help. Natsu herself has really changed since finding herself on this ship. Rather than depending on others to make decisions, she was lost on her own and was forced to trust in herself. Arashi sees how hard she’s pushing herself, but Ango can only view her as a replacement for Shigeru, telling her that she can’t do it and she should just turn back. Natsu is able to get the crane down to them and brings it back up, and the three continue on their way. This is kind of the turning point, as Arashi and Natsu find out about who Ango actually is. He realizes that Natsu isn’t Shigeru, and explains why he has been treating her that way, because he looked down on Shigeru the whole time. Arashi asks him why he never ran away from the facility, and it’s here that Ango realizes that that was an option to them. He kind of breaks down, but Arashi then explains that he and the others were brainwashed. That if it were truly that awful, as Ango has described and as the viewers have been shown, then it was never his choice to stay either, and the guilt that weighs on his shoulders, isn’t truly his to carry. Arashi also brings up that nobody on any of these 7 Seeds teams wanted to be here, and that they are all victims of this governement program. Nobody was able to thoughtfully and honestly make the choice to be put to sleep and sent to the future, and the only thing that they can do now is to survive and do what they can for themselves.

That is kind of the end here. I personally liked Ango’s story and his growth, besides being an attempted rapist... He was a majorly brainwashed character, told that only the special ones will be able to rebuild society, and because of the sacrifices of his friends, he felt that it was unfair that completely average people were able to make it here. Honestly, that’s the most fucked up part. Why would random civilians be sent? We saw this question asked a few other times in the series, especially when conflict erupts in the Fall Team when a member becomes pregnant, when the deemed leaders had banned sex altogether. They figured that it would be better not to procreate, as the ones who stuck them in this situation would have wanted. And again, when the Winter Team woke up, all but three people were murdered by a lion. They had no guns, like Summer A Team do, and in the end, only Aramaki, the dude with the wolves, survives. All that these story beats do is point to how shit the 7 Seeds project was. They wanted to mix the elite survivalists with complete noobs, and had no idea what sort of emotions would erupt from this? Also, who thought that emotionally torturing the survivalist team would end up being a positive? Absolutely ridiculous.

The writing is pretty bad, though, if the manga ends up being released in English (crossing my fingers for a digital release), I may have to check it out. The shoujo romance plot of it may end up being interesting, if not blood-boiling, but I think that if the story up until now, of what the anime has adapted, had more time to build on the characters and their interactions, it may well be a good story. I don’t recommend this series, the editing and direction is horrendous, but I am kind of looking forward to the 3rd season, if it happens.

#7 Seeds #review #spoilers #anime #winter 2020 #netflix #netflix anime #seasonal anime #anime review #Feminist Review #Anime Feminist

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theirritablebitchsyndrome-blog · 4 years

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Irritable Bitch or Irritable Bowels?

Since I was an infant I had “tummy problems.” Those problems never seemed to subside throughout childhood and even now into my young adult life, I am still graced with the gripes. Perfect.

I always thought I was sensitive, or that everyone else had these issues and were just button-lipped about it. When I was about 15 or 16 I decided to cut dairy out of my diet. My family is european so chevre, brie, cheddar... these are holy words in our house. Giving up dairy was tough but I knew that it was going to benefit my health in the long run.

Understanding my lactose intolerance was only the beginning. Feeling like an asshole at restaurants for stressing the point that I cannot have dairy made me really anxious about food. I could hear myself annoying the people around me and in turn this fucking hungry monkey on my back was taunting me about all the things I was going to miss out on. Teenage-hood also welcomed anxiety which in my English/Irish Catholic family wasn’t really something we considered or wanted to confront. The world was against me, as most 16 year olds believe, and what’s worse? I CAN’T EAT FUCKING CHEEEEEEEEEESEEEEEE!

When I graduated from high school, I went directly into extending my education at the local university. There was something different about me. I was apathetic, sluggish and I had been losing weight rapidly. I come from a big-boned family, none of us are slim, so being skinny for the first time in my life was weird! As I began to enjoy feeling like I took up less space in the world, I also began to lose my confidence. I felt like a shell of a person. This wasn’t an issue with food, this was definitely bigger than my digestion.

After years of being a tired asshole, I decided at 20 I wanted to figure it out. I saw a naturopathic doctor who diagnosed me with hypothyroidism and the autoimmune disease Hashimoto’s. Which, plainly, impacts the antibodies in our bodies. My body was essentially attacking my thyroid, which wasn’t even working, and ya’ girl was very sleepy all the time. I couldn’t exercise. I couldn’t sleep very well. I couldn’t communicate effectively. School was hard as hell. I was pushing all my friends away, I felt the only thing I could offer people was my body and I was simply miserable.

Sure, I was sorting out my thyroid. I also was being screened for food allergies, but I knew there was something else going on. I should’ve been feeling better, I so desperately wanted to feel “normal.” My hormones! Ah. I went to my lovely gynecologist and seeing as I knew thyroid and hormones are related, she must be able to put a pin in it. I had essentially no estrogen in my body, my b12 was incredibly low and my ferritin didn’t really exist. Once we treated those, I still felt like shit. This is 5 years of feeling 50%. After the demise of my first relationship, even if for the better, my body started to kind of give up. Depression really took over me like a cloak and I could feel myself not having much left to give. I was bloated all the time and I couldn’t poop right. As hilarious as that is, when you can’t poop-- it’s like sheer torture. I felt really alone at this point in my life and didn’t even feel important to my family. I was always going to the doctors and I felt like I was going crazy.

I had stomach aches all the time but one night after eating pork rillette (pork and fat) I had the worst gripes under my ribs. I thought I was having a panic attack, or even something worse. I went to the E.R. for the first time in my life that night and sat with my sweet mom who rubbed my back while we waited. It was a Saturday night so the E.R. was pretty poppin’. I decided that I could tolerate the pain as it was going away and we went back home. I went to see my doctor and she assumed this was a gallbladder attack. This would all make a lot of sense because I had the chronic brain fog, bloating that hurt around my ribs, lethargy and food intolerances that are pretty typical of gallbladder issues.

It was time for my cholecystectomy surgery. This disgusting gallbladder was ready to be born. And thrown away. I had a large stone that could’ve been growing for the past 5-6 years. Just because I need to brag, my anesthesiologist put lavender in my gas. My first experience getting cut open was as chill as it could possibly be. My surgery lasted maybe no more than 20 minutes and after spending the whole day at the surgery center, I was allowed to go home. Geeked up on the good ol’ drugs they gave me, I honestly just felt weak. No pain, no understanding even of my guts being stabbed hours prior.

Sometimes we as patients have to advocate for ourselves when seeking medical help. Although I as a grown ass person have shit myself since my surgery, I know that this will help change many things for me in the long run. Partnered with my newfound love for hot power yoga and weight lifting, I feel like I’ve got a new lease on life that I definitely have not had for years. I understand my gut has a huge impact on my mental health. I had a bodily depression for so long that I am more use to feeling 50% than 100%. Even now, the days where I feel good I can take on the world. This is an important message to “healthy” people who don’t want to feel like shit all the time just because they appear to be “healthy”: YOU GET TO ADVOCATE FOR YOUR OWN WELLNESS. As sad as that can be, it can also be incredibly liberating. I am a person who lives with an autoimmune disease and although common, I know that I play a role in my wellbeing. Please never feel bad for not being able to eat certain things, or feeling like you need to take a day to be moody or whatever it may be. You are a human being, a WHOLE human being, who deals with frustrating ass shit and if that makes you anything, it is resilient and intuitive.

I am posting this because I have felt isolated in the world because of my chronic health issues. I am an attractive, young woman with a lot going on and sometimes I have felt very much so different from my peers. I was compelled to speak on this because I wanted someone to speak my story for me while I was going through it, to feel less alone, to feel less isolated and different.

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scripttorture · 5 years

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In the story I am writing, I want A to be kidnap and torture for info and of course it won't work. The way the kidnapper is doing it is by giving A small electrochoc everytime she fell asleep and interrogating her while tied up to a chair for small amount of time. If she is not on the chair, she is in a little cell. I have 3 questions related to it. 1. Is it possible to keep her awake for 3 to 4 days without permanent damage? (1/2, I think)

2. If so, what level of electricity is safe to not do permanent dommage on the period of time that is safe? 3. After A is saved, while inconscient, is it possible that she thinks she is dreaming even when she is awake? And 4 (because it's easier to ask the last question in 2). Is it possible that she will do whatever is possible to stay awake even if there's no danger anymore? Thank you very much for all the informations you give, I used a lot of it while writing! Hope you have a nice day (2/2)Hey! I just ask about the electroshocks, I thought I should add that A receive the shock by a dog collar and that she have 3 meals a day and water

OKI think the best way to tackle this is going to be one question at atime. Generally I think this scenario is survivable and it’s notfar off. But I think you’re also going to have to accept that notorture scenario is safe or without permanent damage.

Itisn’tpossible to keep someone awake for 3-4 days straight withoutpermanent damage but that damage may be acceptable to you.

Forinstance, realistically a character who had been through this wouldhave very little memory of those 3-4 days and probably several daysbefore hand. This ispermanent damage tothe brain.

Sois the increased cancer risk and the mental illnesses she’d havefor the rest of her life.

Butthis might be a level of damage, or a kind of damage, that you’rewilling to accept for the sake of the story.

Thereisn’t really a ‘safe’ level of electric shocks. Even deviceslike stun guns and tasers, which are much lesslikelyto cause death still cause dozens of deaths every year.

Electricshocks, even at ‘safe’ levels, cause heart attacks and seizureswhich can be lethal. Some victims knew before hand that they wereprone to either of these conditions but not all of them do. Repeatedshocks make heart attacks and seizures more likely.

Shocksthat cause muscle spasms (or loss of muscle control) are more likelyto result in serious injuries like broken bones with repeated shocks.Repeated shocks to the same area are also more likely to cause burns,even if the device is designed notto cause burns.

Iguess what I’m driving at here is that it isn’t really a questionof ‘levels’. It’s a question of underlying conditions,environment and repeated damage.

Thescenario you’re positing is never going to be harmless. It issurvivablefor some people.But that’s a very different thing.

I’dexpect a person in this sort of scenario to have burns around theirneck. Which could limit mobility in their neck, effect mobility inthe face and jaw and possibly hamper their ability to breath andswallow. That’s because a burn like that, all the way around theneck, would cause the skin to tighten and could result in restrictingair flow and/or the natural movement of the throat.

I’mnot a medic but my instinct is that depending on the degree of damagesomeone with wounds like that may require surgery to make breathingeasier.

I’dalso expect someone in this scenario to have a lot of bruises andafter three or four days- probably some broken bones as well. That'sbecause most electrical torture devices effect muscles, eithertemporarily preventing a victim from using their muscles and hencecausing falling injuries (like a Taser or stun gun) or else causingmuscle spasms and injuries associated with thrashing around (like amagneto or cattle prod).

Eitherway that’s not a good thing in a cage with a hard floor. And it’seven worse when the victim is sleep deprived because that reducescoordination, reaction time and the ability to heal.

Sothe character would be less able to catch herself or protect herselfwhen she falls. At the same time the injuries she gets from fallingwould take longer to heal and would be more likely to becomeinfected.

That’sgoing to be a major risk factor in this scenario what ever you do. Solong as you’re using electricity to deprive the character of sleepthere’s a high risk of serious injury.

Ifyou want the character to survive I’d strongly recommend choosing adifferent way to administer the electric shocks. If you’reextremely attached to the idea of a wearable device then somethingaround the ankle would be less lethal although it would probablystill cause burns from repeated use and those burns could affect thecharacter’s ability to walk permanently.

A‘better’ option would be a Taser, or having a device wired intothe floor of the cage.

Butmake no mistake this scenario is still hugely dangerous. It wouldkill a lot of people. Survivors would have injuries that would take along time to heal. This wouldn’t be ‘clean’, there would beobvious injuries and possibly scarring.

Changingto the kind of electrical devices I’ve suggested these are theinjuries I think the character would have- burns around the site ofthe electric shocks, bruises all over the body, broken bones (mostlikely the wrist), concussion and probably a lot of cuts.

Keepin mind that if the character breaks a bone on- say the third day-they’re still going to be falling over and exacerbating thatinjury. Which could lead to some complex injuries that might neverfully heal.

There’dbe damage to the heart and I’m honestly not sure if it wouldcompletely recover. This doesn’t necessarily mean heart attacks,but this is a long term impact on the character’s health whichmight effect things like athletic ability. And keep in mind, sleepdeprivation also has a negative impact on heart health.

Inthe months afterwards the character would take longer than normal toheal, though I’m unsure exactly how much longer. Plan to write alot of set backs, infections, things not quite knitting togetherproperly. This isn’t from the electricity but from sleepdeprivation.

Ifall this sounds like too many injuries and too great a recovery time(or too much of a risk of giving the character a disabling injury)then I’d recommend going for a different sleep deprivation method.

Thesimplest one would be leaving loud music playing and bright lights onwhere the character is confined. If you wanted to add additionaltortures rather than just leaving it at sleep deprivation (believe me3-4 days total sleep deprivation is hugely damaging) then I thinkforced exercise would fit. It can be as simple as forcing thecharacter to keep walking up and down the cage until she collapses.

She’shave a lot of muscular pain and probably have extensive bruising butshe probably wouldn’t have as many injuries as she would get fromelectric shocks.

Ithink that brings us to question three.

I’mnot sure that ‘dreaming’ is quite the right term but it’sperfectly possible that she wouldn’t think the rescue is real.

Peoplewho are sleep deprived over this time frame often hallucinate. I’vehallucinated from sleep deprivation when I’d had much more sleepthan your character. And even if the character isn’t aware this isa symptom of sleep deprivation she’ll probably be aware most ofthese hallucinations are not real.

Butthey’re nottechnically dreams. They’re not immersive. Theydon’t always last very long. Andbased on my own experience I’m not sure if someone would naturallylink them to dreams rather then ‘I’m going crazy’.

Sleepdeprivation also effects mood. It makes people… tend towardsassuming the worst about everyone and everything. That tendencyincreases the more sleep deprived they are and can reach full onparanoia.

Ishould probably also mention micro sleeps. Sleep deprived people canfall asleep without warning for short periods of time, as little as acouple of seconds. It’s essentially like falling brieflyunconscious repeatedly without warning. This is what causes a lot offatal sleep-related car accidents.

Foryour character it’s going to mean more gaps in her memory. It’sgoing to mean suddenly waking up on the floor and not knowing whathappened or how much time has passed.

This,in addition to the paranoia sleep deprivation produces and thehallucinations, could easily make her doubt the reality of what she’sseeing.

WhichI think leaves the last question.

Insomniais a recognised symptom of torture. A lotof torture survivors struggle to sleep for varied reasons. Sometimesit’s related to nightmares. Sometimes it’s related to othermental health problems they have. It can also be related to thingslike chronic pain, digestive problems (common with mental healthproblems) and brain damage to the sleep generating parts of thebrain.

Ifyou want the character to be unwilling to sleep using nightmares aspart of her symptom profile is probably the best option. That’spossible.

But-don’t feel that you needto have the character feel unwilling to sleep in order for her to besleep deprived (to a much less extreme degree) later. A lot of mentaland physical health problems effect sleep, both directly andindirectly.

There’sa huge degree of frustration when someone wants to sleep (or eat)normally and can’t because of an illness. There’s a lot ofphysical pain too. Pain that a lot of healthy people find difficultto understand.

Ithink the ‘right’ way to go depends on the story and where youwant to go with it. I think if the characterstops herself sleeping that may come across as her hurting herselfwhereas if she can’t sleep because of something like pain- it mightcome across more clearly as a symptom to readers.

Symptomscan’t be predicted. We can’t tell in advance what problems anyone individual will develop in response to torture. We know the mostcommon symptoms but what someone actually ends up with varies.

Ifyou’re committed to giving the character a long term sleep problemthere are a lot of realistic ways to do that. I’d advise that youconsider the long term implications of that: it would impair her forthe rest of her life. I’d recommend M Walker’s Why WeSleep as a summary of what sleepdoes and the harm lack of sleep causes.

Thisshouldn’t be the character’s only symptom though. Torturesurvivors have multiple mental health problems, often severe andcomplex ones. Takea look at the masterpost on common symptoms here and pick atleast two more, if you haven’t got some ideas for that already.

Ihope this helps. :)

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#tw torture #sleep deprivation #electricity #electric shocks #effects of sleep deprivation #effects of torture #writing victims #shock collars #Anonymous

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change4lifeblog-blog · 5 years

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My Past, My Present, My Future

So I've never created a blog before. I am nervous, excited and looking forward to get my story out there. The aim of all this is to tell people about my life, and reach out to people who have or are going through similar things that I have been through and help them with their struggles. So lets start with my past shall we.

My Past

I said to myself when writing this blog I would be honest about everything and try and keep it short and straight to the point. I am not going to say I had the worst upbringing because I didn't. I was brought up by a mother who struggled with addiction and depression and a step father who was abusive to my mother, was an addict and was desperate. My earliest memories of drugs was my step dad lighting up weed and making a spliff. I remember the small of it. Then a few years later I remember my step dads friend, obviously his dealer used to come around a lot. I didn't know at the time it was his dealer. This used to be every Friday night to start with then at about 8 o'clock him and my mum used to lock the bedroom door and hide in their all night. I used to hear the loud sniffs of them snorting cocaine. When I got a little bit older I would say around 14 I started to see his mood swings, he was either in the best mood ever or the worst mood possible, obviously whether he had seen his dealer or not. It was around this age when my mum tried to commit suicide. I remember her going missing on a Thursday night. Funny how i can still remember what day of the week it was 20 years later. She was found after taking a massive overdose, she was then taken to hospital. At the time I had no idea why she would do this but I later found out it was a cry for help, as she had become addicted to cocaine. Following this, as far as i am aware this is where her addiction stopped and she got help to come away from cocaine. I recall the arguments becoming a lot worse from this point between my step dad and mum, looking back this was probably due to the fact that he was still on cocaine and she wasn't. Things gradually got worse from this point and that is when the violence kicked in. The arguments at night were horrendous. I used to lie there in bed listening to the screaming and the banging as they argued and fought. I used to hear slaps and punches getting thrown. I hated myself for years for not intervening. There were also nights when my mum was raped by him and i had heard this and not intervened. This is something i still struggle with and have asked myself a million times why i didn't do anything. The only answer I can honestly come up with was that i was scared. The fighting and arguing carried on for a few years until I was about 15 years of age. It all came to a head one day after school. I came into the house after school, I could hear banging and smashing going on upstairs. I ran upstairs and there was my step dad screaming at me telling me to get out, he picked up the upstairs tv and threw it at me on the stairs. This was because he owed a drug dealer £30000 and they said that they were gonna torture me in-front of him until he got the money. I had to go and stay with my nan until the debt was paid. He stole the money from work, got sacked and my mum eventually kicked him out the house and they got divorced. I decided to join the army when I left school.

I joined the army aged 17. Loved every minute. Was known as a tracksuit soldier because all I did was play football. After serving my 4 years in the Army I came home. When i came out of the army I struggled adjusting to civilian life. After having it drummed into me for 4 years that I was better than everyone else I came out with the same mindset. I had a full time job but loved a night out with the lads. Having a chip on my shoulder and a beer down my neck was not a good concoction. I got in fight after fight. Until eventually I was arrested for assault by battery. I served community service for this offence. It was not long after this that I found cocaine on a night out. Had it once or twice and thought nothing of it. A few years later I was at work and a lad in work offered me some on a night out. Then the next weekend I got some more, then the weekend after, but this time i wasn't on a night out i was at home. This happened weekend after weekend. Little did I know it now had me in its power. This then lead to one day a week then a few days a week. I was earning about 4000 a month at the time and blowing around 2000 on cocaine. It came to a point where I knew I couldn't stop on my own. I remember the night when I just lay in bed crying praying for god to help me and give me strength to kick this addiction. The next day I went to the doctors to get professional help. After my upbringing I always said I would never get addicted to drugs and never be like my mum and step dad. Unfortunately I had fell into the same trap as they had. I got professional help, they taught me triggers and how to deal with them. Things weren't rosy and I did relapse a few times but I learnt that you need to forgive yourself for these relapses and not beat yourself up. This was over two years ago and I have been abstinent from drugs since then. I also gave up alcohol over a year ago because I feel like is was not a good contributor to me in my life so didn't want it to be part of my life anymore.

So that is where we are up to now. The reason for this blog is to give you a glimpse of my past. I don't claim to be a psychologist or someone who has an answer to all your problems but what I do have is life experiences of addiction and depression. I feel I have managed to get through the dark tunnel and come out the other side. I also feel that everything happens for a reason and that I went through everything to share my story and maybe help other people in similar situations and get them through to the other side. Its my passion. Another major factor for me staying abstinent from drugs was finding exercise and healthy eating. I would eventually like to combine my two passions of exercise and helping people with mental health problems, addictions and depression. The purpose of this blog is to get the word out there and I would like people who are struggling with a similar situation that I was in to maybe get in touch with me and maybe I could help them in some shape or form.

I would love to hear from people of what they think of my blog and also if i can help anyone with anything no matter how small I would like you to get in touch.

Thank you for reading my story

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mylifeasevelyn · 6 years

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Helter Skelter

Who's gonna pick you up when you fall? Who's gonna hang it up when you call? Who's gonna pay attention to your dreams? Who's gonna plug your ears when you scream? You can't go on thinkin' that nothing’s wrong.

Oh, who's gonna drive you home tonight? Who's gonna hold you down when you shake? And who's gonna come around when you break? You can't go on thinkin' that nothing's wrong, oh. Who's gonna drive you home tonight?

Hello dear stranger, it’s me, Evelyn. I’ve been typing this post on and off for the past few weeks. I can barely remember the last time I truly typed something for this blog in particular and not just for me. To be perfectly honest, I haven’t truly given myself the time that I need to reflect on the recent mayhem that’s been my mental health recently. We all know that we don’t wanna deal with our feelings in times of stress but it gets worse as times goes by and you end up pretty bad (like I used to be). Today, for instance, I almost had a panic attack in the middle of the street, in the most fucking crowded part of the city. It was hell.

I know that the one thing that triggers my depression is loneliness. I know I’ve said this on some previous post, but loneliness has always been something that I fear more than any other thing in the world. I fear that shit more than death itself. A few years back, loneliness kind of felt like a phobia (if that makes any sense) and I know it’s because of how misunderstood I felt growing up. And man, who am I kidding? I still feel that way. So yeah, whenever I feel lonely, both my anxiety and depression make their appearance and it’s just… well, it’s fucking hell. Take a shot every time you read the word hell *gasps*

Anyway, back to my point, which is: loneliness is what triggers my depression + anxiety, the annoying Evelyn cocktail. Lol, I get so negative when I get sick, yet I’m so self aware but I’m still in a “fuck it�� life mood.

Worst case scenario, a wave of loneliness can trigger an anxiety attack, like today. And man, those are just fuckiiin’ heeeell. Yeaaah, I really need to stop saying the word hell. I wish I could... but there’s no other word to portray how torturous is this pain. Man, it’s already hard typing this and admitting you’re going through a moment of weakness. But at the end of the day, the one thing that keeps my sanity on check is the fact that I’m not alone on this. Unfortunately, I’m the only one within my circle of peeps who’s going through this and that makes it so hard to deal with at times, not to mention talk about it. I try my best to focus my energy on all the good that I’ve accomplished and how all the bullshit that keeps coming at me it’s gonna turn into a funny story one day. But as of now, I’m nauseated just because of my feel too much gene.

And fuck, I’m truly sorry for not providing you with a better post, dear stranger. This is true life after all. Mental illness is a bitch, and you can’t always live without that needy whore, if ever. I hope you’re doing well. ‘Til next time, dear stranger.

Never give up, always fight.

Love,

Evelyn

#text #personal #post #mental health #mental illness #anxiety #depression #bpd #bpd recovery #panic attacks #anxiety attacks #my life as Eve #my life as Evelyn #like if you read #ty

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handguns-4-hearts · 6 years

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Coming to Terms with Marilyn Manson as an Abuser

TW- Rape, Domestic Violence, Abuse, Intimate Partner Violence

“If you can’t hear the whole truth, you will never know true empathy, and I believe that if we have to live through it, you have to hear it.” - ERW

Today, I saw this video of Evan Rachel Wood offering testimony to support a bill called the “Survivor’s Bill of Rights.”

Listening to her testimony caused tears to stream down my face, and my entire body to shake like an autumn leaf. Her story struck me so deeply because it reminded me of my own abusive relationship. For a moment, I was transported back into that state of indescribable fear, desperation, and helplessness that created the fabric of my reality from the years 2012-2014.

“I had no idea what to do to change my situation so I went numb. And soon I couldn’t feel anything, I wasn’t alive. My self esteem and spirit were broken. I was deeply terrified and that fear lives with me to this day. What makes me more hurt and more angry than the actual rape and abuse itself, was that piece of me that was stolen that altered the course of my life.” - ERW

It is impossible to explain to someone who hasn’t been abused what it’s like, but ERW does quite a good job. These words echoed through me, it felt like they were reverberating off my bones. When I think back on my abusive relationship, it’s hard not to believe that it ruined my life. It’s hard not to believe that it ruined me. The person I was before that, and the person I am now, are incredibly different. I have still not fully rebuilt my self esteem and spirit. I still constantly question what I think and feel because my abuser manipulated and gaslighted me to a breaking point in which I lost the ability to believe myself, and believe IN myself. Although I have made significant recovery, I know that I will never be the same.

Hearing this testimony was difficult because of my experience, but what makes it even more difficult is my certainty that she was abused by Marilyn Manson. Marilyn Manson. My everything. My greatest teacher. The person who made me who I am today more than anyone else in my life.

You see, my experience in an abusive relationship was narrated by MM. I fell in love with my abuser at a MM show. Our connection was based around our mutual love and understanding of MM. The albums Eat Me, Drink Me and THe High End of Low played on repeat throughout our time together. It wasn’t until after I began to understand my relationship as the abuse that it was, that I began to notice the abusive aspects of Marilyn Manson within these albums and some of the interviews and videos surrounding them. I began to notice a bubbling of discomfort with my love of Marilyn Manson. I saw so much of him in my abuser, and so much of my abuser in him, that sometimes I would look at the posters of him on my walls and feel a confusing mix of adoration, love, and fear. The same things I felt for my abuser. I wasn’t able to listen to the those two albums for about 2 years after I ended my abusive relationship. I recultivated my love of Marilyn Manson, appreciating him for everything that he has done for me, telling myself that MM is the one thing that no one can take from me, and promising that nothing he could ever do would change the positive things he has already done for me.

As time passed, I began to speak out about my views regarding Marilyn Manson’s abusive characteristics. But much like the ways in which victims and survivors of violence are often treated, I was met with disbelief, anger, and attempts to discredit me. “You’re not a real fan,” “there’s no evidence,” “he was never found guilty of anything.” None of these people knew that Marilyn Manson is my everything, regardless of these thoughts I had of him. I learned FROM HIM that I should always be critical. That no one is perfect. That I am my own God, so I refuse to put anyone up on a pedestal be worshipped as hero while knowing that they are also human. I was only doing what he had taught me to do. I repeatedly stated that if these fans knew anything about abusive dynamics, if they had a deep understanding of his music, if they PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT HE HAS SAID, they too would see these abusive characteristics. I’ve never quite broken down all of the pieces that led me to believe that MM was an abuser. But ERW’s story was the last link in what I felt I needed to know that what I believe about MM is true. Here it is.

“My experience with domestic violence was this: toxic mental, physical and sexual abuse that started out slow, but escalated over time including threats against my life, severe gas lighting and brainwashing, waking up to the man who who claimed to love me raping what he believed to be my unconscious body. And the worst part, sick rituals of binding me up by my hands and feet to be mentally and physically tortured until my abuser felt I had proven my love for them. In this moment when I was tied up, being beaten, and being told unspeakable things, I truly felt like I could die, not just because my abuser said to me “I could kill you right now,” but because in that moment, I felt like I left my body and I was too afraid to run, he would find me.” -ERW

What most sticks out to me here is the threats against her life, the necessity of him needing her to prove her love for him, saying the words, “I could kill you right now.”

Devour, the opening track on EMDM defines MM’s view of love and death and sacrifice that she shared with ERW.

“Manson touched on the song’s inspiration and subject matter briefly in a June 2009 interview with Revolver: “It’s kind of a murder-suicide story based on the reality of my life that day. The record maybe saved me, and the person I would have killed also. If somebody says they want to be with you until they die, I take that kind of seriously. It became a song…luckily.”

The song was written 3 days before what was planned to be a dark Romeo and Juliet murder suicide. He had planned to kill himself and his lover. In a 2009 interview with Shockhound,he revealed the “would be” tragedy, explaining the situation with mild detail, quoting that he had said “I’m going to kill you first, because I don’t trust you.’

I believe that this dynamic of “until death do us part” began with this this experience between Marilyn Manson and ERW:

‘Manson says he was finally uplifted by a close friend’s morbid gesture of devotion. "She picked up a butcher’s knife and said, ‘Here, you can stab me,’” he says. “When someone was willing to drown with me, I really didn’t want to drown anymore.’”

To represent this event, in the video for Heart-Shaped Glasses off the EMDM album, after it shows a short sex scene between him and ERW, the video pans to a scene in which ERW and MM are in a car where Marilyn Manson is taking photos of ERW posing with a butcher knife. The EMDM album is widely recognized as an album similar to a diary, with the songs appearing on the album in the order they were written. The beginning of the album marks the ending of MM’s marriage with Dita Von Teese, and right after “Just a car crash away,” “Heart-Shaped Glasses” begins which introduces MM’s passionate, inflammatory relationship with ERW.

What I speculate happened here is that within the cycle of abuse, ERW finally decided to try to leave, and in response MM threatened her with murder and his own suicide because of what he perceived as loyalty and devotion within a promise to die if he died. Marilyn Manson was in such a dark place within his own mental health, that he wanted to die without her. She saved him from his suicidal ideations and deep depression with her gesture to go down with him, and now that she was leaving, he wanted to hold her to her promise.

He comments more on this dynamic in the song “15”:

“this time I won’t hesitate to kill to protect what I believe in this time I won’t hesitate to kill to protect what I believe in i can get by now I’m not really dead but I really needed someone to save me leaving me alone to die is worse than having the guts to kill me”

At this point, ERW is gone, and throughout THe High End of Low, Marilyn Manson’s bitterness over ERW is apparent. These lyrics within 15 represent another veiled threat on her life, as well an attempt to cause her to feel guilt over "abandoning" him in his pain. This bitterness, and expression of abusive characteristics, is also seen in the song “WOW” and in the video for “Running to the Edge of the World.”

“i was happy for 'awhile’ and i stopped being scared and ashamed to say what’s on my mind. but you thought that I’d change after 'awhile’ and said, "you better treat me different, or else!” "or else" seems like a stupid, fucking thing to say to someone like me someone like me?

i am worse than what you think you’d catch from me 'complicated’ is understated. did you stop and take a look at who you fell in love with? at who you fell in love with?”

-”WOW” by MM

WOW was probably the most difficult song on the album for to hear because it so perfectly illustrates MM’s complete lack of accountability for the ways in which he treated ERW. It smacks of victim blaming - ERW “should have known better” - how could she ever expect MM to change his behavior? She knew who she was falling in love with, and chose to fall in love with him.Because an 18 year old girl has it all figured out, right? And the 47 year old man she is dating is the one being taken advantage of. The video for WOW is a loop of ERW dropping a strap on a dress she is wearing.

The story continues with the video for “Running to the Edge of the World.” The lyric “Together as one, against all others” is a throwback to the Heart-Shaped Glasses video where at the end, MM says “Together as one” and ERW responds with “Against all others.”

There is one specific verse in Running that I looked back on after exiting my abusive relationship that helped me find some clarity:

“And everyone turned their backs because they knew when we held on tight to each other, that we were something fatal that fell into the wrong hands.”

These words represented to me how my abuser and I’s relationship was so intense, so tightly knit, and so clearly toxic, that everyone tried to turn their backs (or they tried to help me in very wrong ways). My abuser and I were in it too deep. I couldn’t get out, our love was passionate and all-encompassing, but it was so very, very fatal. I could actually listen to this song and mourn the ending of a relationship in which I had loved more passionately than I ever had, even though it had destroyed me.

But then there was the video.

“It opens with Manson, dressed in a white shirt singing the song to a camera while partially concealing himself with a curtain. As the bridge and outro of the song play, he beats a woman to death, speculated to represent Evan Rachel Wood, played by Kelly Polk.”

The Manson fandom was quick to absolve Marilyn Manson of any wrongdoing. People denied that the woman in the video was ERW. People said that the video was fine because he didn’t actually hurt ERW in it. People said that it was probably a good thing that MM made this video instead of actually hurting ERW in real life. As if ERW deserved to be hurt for “breaking his heart” and “abandoning him” when actually she was just a young woman who had been scrambling in and out of the relationship for 4 years. You know, it takes approximately 7 times leaving for someone to stay left when they are trying to leave an abusive relationship.

So here we have the story, the evidence I have seen, that caused me to believe that Marilyn Manson is an abuser. ERW’s description of being afraid for her life is literally representative of what MM openly shared in his music, videos, and interviews about their relationship. It doesn’t get much more clear than that for me. I very well may be wrong about some of this. All of this. But it really doesn’t feel like it.

The question is, what do I do with this? I am a Mansonite. A Feminist. A survivor. How do I manage to live while being all of these things? How do I live with the fact that my greatest teacher committed acts of violence against a young woman similar to what were committed against me? The fear in ERW’s voice during the proceeding was palpable. It danced with my own fear that I still carry. It brought up a memory I have of my abusive partner joking around about tying me to the bed and lighting the house on fire. They said that it was a joke. But it didn’t feel like one. Marilyn Manson taught me about duality, about light and dark. At the age of 19, I realized that I was a walking antithesis. I still feel this way, and it’s because I accept that there is no overcoming the light or the dark, that they must always exist together. If you try to extinguish one, you’re ultimately being disingenuous to yourself. Which is funny to me, since people believe that I’m being disingenuous because they don’t get how I can be a comfortable combination of things that are seemingly opposite of each other.

In the song, “I Have to Look up Just to See Hell”, MM says “The light shines in the darkness/but the darkness will never understand it.” In this way, I feel like the pupil has outshone the teacher because I have come to know that the darkness and the light can understand each other, but only if you learn that you’re made of both, simultaneously and continuously. Your darkness and light will only understand each other if you accept that idea.

As a result of this concept, I have realized that although my heart aches because of what I know my greatest teacher has done, I also know that Marilyn Manson grapples with his light and his dark. I am disgusted knowing that he could hurt someone the way my abuser hurt me. Perhaps his actions are unforgivable, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever look at him the same way again. But unlike the many fans who refuse to see him as something less than a hero or a God, I will see him as the person he is. A damaged, sad, lonely man who is a victim of his own traumas. A man who sometimes does terrible things and makes mistakes. What I won’t do is forgive him, what I will do is hold him accountable through expressing my ideas through the rest of his fan base. I can only hope that he will come to some sort of realization in which he accepts that what he did was abusive and wrong - my abusive partner did.

But in the meantime, I will try to ignore the spiral heart on my abdomen that I wear as a reminder that “Love is the only thing strong enough to destroy me” (as MM said in an interview during the EMDM/THEOL era). Perhaps I’ll turn it into a flesh removal one day instead to represent the strength I have rebuilt over the years that will not allow me to ever be destroyed by “love” ever again. And I will continue to see my triptych tattoo and my Golden Age of Grotesque era M’s as representative of the times in my life in which I learned the most about myself, through the art of this man who has meant everything to me. I will coexist within my dark and light feelings surrounding Marilyn Manson because that is what I have done for the majority of my life. That is what he taught me.

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#marilyn manson #abuse #emotional abuse #domestic violence #abusive relationship #manipulation #gaslighting #hero worship #evan rachel wood #intimate partner violence #me too #survivors bill of rights

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