#cause it's hard to separate my fear from the fact that this is a real thing becoming a bigger and bigger problem :(

[redspringthorn]

Me: oh nice a little dog! I'm gonna pet this nice little dog outside. So cute haha

My brain: the dog has antibiotic resistant bacteria and then you will pet it and then you're going to touch your hair or your skin and from your skin or hair you'll breathe in the bacteria from the dog which causes a lung infection that's resistant to antibiotics and then you spend the rest of your miserable life struggling to breathe hooked up to IV antibiotics but none of them work and you eventually perish so don't pet that fucking dog if you want to LIVE!!!

#OCD #this shit is crazy girl #also my brain has decided that my cat is eventually going to get trapped inside the microwave and die if I don't do absolutely everything to #prevent it #so that's fun as well #personal #obsessive compulsive #the past year or so I've been sooo obsessed with antibiotic resistance which sucks. #cause it's hard to separate my fear from the fact that this is a real thing becoming a bigger and bigger problem :( #also my cat literally has antibiotic resistant infection at the moment and I'm trying sooooo so hard to be normal about it #I just wanna relax and pet a fucking cat or dog without VIVIDLY IMAGINING MY OWN HORRIFIC DEATH #it really doesn't help that I have an intense interest in medical shit like this so I know too many things for my brain to use as #fodder for anxiety

[toffeebrew]

eughhh sleepiness is taking over must write about inky boy. ink sans is by @/comyet

i think upon reanalyzing some asks and the FAQ i have begun to understand how inks err emotions work a little better. a bunch of this is me kinda theorizing sooo yeah. it's not as uhh clear as my other rants are

His emotions aren't really "fake". at least my definition of fake. He still feels.

Instead, their main struggle is to balance and understand his emotions. Like in this ask:

So, he can definitely have quote on quote "normal relationships" with other people

One day you may ask him and he'll be like yeah i care about them alot and the next he doesn't feel very attached at all. As i interpreted "not making sense" as to not understanding why or how he even cares for these people. It seems really dependent on his internal emotional balance. The pretending comes in to play where he may exaggerate or lie about his emotions. Perhaps because he himself wants to have these attachments. Or because he wants to spare others feelings.

more yappage under the cut

According to his FAQ, he realizes his soullessness is an advantage (and theres not any realistic/non morally dubious means to obtain one) and wouldn't change that. However, i don't believe he is completely content with some of the drawbacks. He feels the need to hide his soullessness, as indicated in his design notes. But it "shows through". He feels the need to "pretend to have a soul" -from his backstory comic. This may be because he feels insecure in some way. believing his own emotions are less than others. Or his feelings are invalid or fake because he doesn't have a soul. Or at the very least not as real as others. Because he doesn't feel emotions the way others do, it must be wrong. Because hes chaotic neutral, i don't think these are things others contributed to his line of thought. Rather, something hes internalized himself. not that he would ever tell anyone that.

He may also hide this fact not the freak people out. Man does enjoy a bit of mischief, but it probably be kinda hard to work with other people if you have a large chance they may be scared of/don't trust you. I also think he doesn't actually want to like...petrify people. Which i would imagine many monsters would struggle, if they knew. given what people may assume of him. Or at least that's what he thinks ig shsksh.

Given he fears loneliness i think both of these reasons may contribute. He doesn't want people to abandon him. abandonment issues caused by trauma he can't remember.

But he can definitely feel extremes as well. being "overexcited" so much so he forgets consequences. He vomits up ink when shocked or overly passionate. I didn't expand on this as much because i feel like others have explained better than i ever could.

as his FAQ indicates his emotions can be separate from his morality. so its not necessarily contradictory for him to have these big emotions but still have uhh ig a more neutral way of looking at things. ig

btw this post was inspired from this analysis!! i tried to add my own spin on my commentary

#ink sans #im delirious so i apologize if this doesn't make sense #im very eppy #this is all my own interpretation and opinions! #i need a coffee #oh also ik asks aren't completely canon #and head more into headcanon territory #but i decided it would be interesting to talk about anyway #im not as confident in this analysis #apologies if that shows through haha #i have a really tough time explaining why exactly he hides his soullessness #I'll edit this later

[lo-shouldve-been-an-email]

Hate to break it to you, but people like you make it hard for other people to feel confident about creating stories; in fear that they’ll be wrongly bashed by close minded people like you. AND you’re a minor??😐 What are you doing criticizing a young adult comic? Get real.

Okay,first of all,plenty of teens younger than me have read lore Olympus.id dare say a good bit of the fan base are around my age.

Second of all,this comic has caused real world harm to figures like leuke and Apollo.(Leuke having her search result right off the bat show her in lore Olympus and Apollo has had real world followers of him harassed)

Third of all,critique exists to give guidelines for stories.if people can’t learn how to critique their stories and rewrite them to be better,then how will we have good stories?having an example of what not to do helps with learning what to do.

Also,telling people that bashing on something is making people scared is(no offense) not going to do anything.

No media is above critique.and sure,you’ll have people who hate to for the sake of hating you,but you need to learn how to separate those people from people giving genuine critique.

And when a good bit of the “haters” are former fans who fell off the narrative then maybe they have some good critique’s?

I’ll be honest with you,I was never a fan of lore Olympus but I can why others are.

It’s a very “turn off your brain and don’t think about the implications” comic and if you’re enjoying it good for you!

But me and other people can’t enjoy it.and the fact that you do doesn’t mean that it isn’t harmful to young girls and people who don’t know better.

Persephone was 19 at the start of the comic and is constantly infantalized(no not just by being short we love a short queen) and Zeus was quite literally groomed by Métis(he,at most,was eighteen)

Neither of these are acknowledged in narrative as being bad.and the fact that young girls have access to this means that they will think this kind of stuff is alright.

[gummybugg]

find the word tag!

tagged by @digitalsatyr23 here! havent done this tag in a bit, but i have more writing now so its not so difficult to find new words :'D

rules: find the words in your writing and paste a sample here

my words to find: wrong, find, dream, and cloud

(Wasn't sure if this post warrents a content warning, but it does reference suicidal ideation, dissociation, and kidnapping, so be aware.)

...

WRONG

(from my dormant wip the mice come out at night - morgana's pov/diary entry)

I was supposed to have died that day, I found myself thinking. But this thought wasn't out of scorn or hatred for the times I had made since then, it was a matter of fact. I didn't get what I had been promised, yet this time I wasn't so sure what I had expected at the time. Morgana then and now were two cherries separated at the stem. Our concept of what we thought we needed mirrored, the reflection a jarring contrast. "You must have the wrong guy," I found myself saying, cutting through my rampant thoughts. I highly doubted there was anything Vincent could be capable of lying to us about. Even if he decided to tell the others and not me, I was at least 99% certain Juniper would have spilled it by now.

FIND

(from my wip crater city - melony's pov)

Darcy looked down at his hands and the tears that fell into them. "I'm crying." He said, as if baffled by the phenomenon. His voice grew more distant, attempting to fade seamlessly into the background noise. "Look what you've made me do." "Darcy..." I began. "It feels warm and achy. But something is there. It's times like these that make me feel real. Feel human." "Darcy, you are human." "At this moment, I am. In the next few seconds, I won't be anymore. I hate it when emotions fade out of existence..." He sat at my desk with his face buried in his hands. It was customary for when his "mind checked out," as he used to say. "Your emotions don't go away. They're just hiding." He looked up at me with hollow eyes and a slack jaw. But they weren’t hollow because they were empty; they were hollow because they had yet to return. "They're just playing a game of hide and seek.” He grunted in agitated confusion. I sighed, picking up where I left off in the clutter. “Right now, sadness is 'it' and it's having a hard time finding the others. Hmm, I'd wager that anger is hiding in a prickly blackberry bush. Fear isn't always smart, so it's hiding clear-as-day behind a tree. Happiness is relaxing way up high in a tree..." I stood on my toes to prop the last textbook at the top of the shelf. The ridiculous analogy made Darcy chuckle. "It seems it found laughter first," I stuck out my tongue. Darcy came over to help, except my balance was a bit off and the book may have accidentally slipped from my fingers. It knocked him on the head before hitting the floor with a deafening belly flop. Instead of complaining about his head, his eyes lingered on the fallen book for a few extra seconds.

DREAM

Uhhhh none i think

CLOUD

(from my wip crater city - blair's pov)

I slapped the dented trunk of the sedan shut. The trunk was a briefcase from the show Steal or No Steal, and I was the pretty lady in red. But the look on Elijah’s face told me he was not fully convinced that this was the deal of a lifetime. He was starting to get on my nerves. He didn't know how to appreciate an offer of such high demand. It was honestly insulting. However, my TV show escapade was short-lived once I realized that he wasn’t going to let up. He was really upset, wasn't he? I could see it in his vacant stare: his soul had left his body. He took a step back, hands hovering cluelessly at his sides. “Uh, Elijah? What’s wrong, man?” I leaned against the creaky trunk, which snapped further shut, almost forfeiting my balance. It really needed more bungee cords, come to think if it. “This…this isn’t even one of the guys that harassed me.” “Come again?” Elijah was such a joker. “Blair…” The abstraction of my friend clutched my shoulders, causing the damp fabric to press into my skin. His hollow eyes sat constricted in their sockets, white about to burst in urgency. “It’s just some guy with green hair…” “Yeah, and…?” I raised a brow. Of course, he had green hair. What was he going on about? I saw a man with the same colored hair as one of the guys Elijah described, then I…wait, where did I even find this guy? I don’t even remember his face. And it would really be embarrassing to double-check by popping open the trunk. Had I really…? I searched the swirling green clouds for an answer. Then Elijah called my name and my wandering eyes found their way back to his.

...

gently tagging @asterhaze @ditzybitzyspider @forthesanityofsome @frostedlemonwriter @new-royston-cursebreakers and anyone else

rules: find the words in your writing and paste a sample here

your words to find: pull, back, away, and whenever

...

crater city mayhem taglist (dm to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23 @talesfromtheunknowable

#thanks for the tag! #writeblr #writing #crater city wip #the mice come out at night #mouse wip #blair #elijah #darcy #melony #morgana #writing tag #my writing #writers of tumblr #mention of dissociation #mention of suicidal ideation #mention of kidnapping #sorry i felt compelled to smack darcy with a book #couldn't help myself #writing game #find the word tag

[tf2shipswag]

ok so first and foremost i dont agree with ppl being mean and insulting you because thats not how you get people to listen to what you have to say so i am sorry about the prev ppl immediately going to attack you but im not going to sit here and minimize their anger because its not baseless and they are well within their right to feel that way. im coming here to try and at least offer my view as a lesbian, which i doubt will do anything but its worth a shot i guess.

i dont agree with the implication that 'bi/mspec lesbian' labels are not harmful when they are fundamentally lesbophobic, biphobic, and transphobic from the talking points ive seen, and hurt us. implying that lesbians can feel attraction to men is the same rhetoric homophobes push onto us in real life to try and imply our sexuality is a phase and can be cured. "you just need to give men a chance." yk things of that nature. im not going to dive deep into the biphohia of it because i do not live the experience of a bisexual and i dont want to talk over bisexuals but i think it speaks for itself when people are so adverse to the label. you must ask yourself why are you so afraid to identify as bisexual? lesbianism has always included nonbinary, trans, gnc, and intersex people. and if its 'too restrictive' then it does not apply to you. lesbians do not and will not ever be attracted to men, i know its hard to believe but yes! people who arent attracted to men exist! we exist! i feel people are so angry and emotionally charged is because we are tired. tired of facing lesbophobia from outside and within the community. sorry for the long ask i tried to keep it short and concise. all i can say is please listen to actual lesbians.

hi, thank you for not being an ass an providing an actual argument, i very much appreciate that /gen. there genuinely is a horrid amount of lesbophobia, biphobia, and transphobia within the community. i know that there are a lot of arguments that the mspec label contributes to such. i just cannot get over the fact we are having fights like this within a community that is actively being attacked so heavily as a whole, especially right now.

your argument's reminiscent of the idea that the pan label is biphobic. genuinely, some people just identify with one label more than another, and sometimes people feel best defined by a combination of labels. even if the difference between the definition of bi and pan is miniscule to you, it might be big enough of a difference to someone else for it to matter.

it's not about "fear" of identifying as a certain label, sometimes it just doesn't. feel. right. once again! i could identify with bi, pan, omni, whatever label! but it's just not me. this has been said before, but nothing about identity is simple. feeling like we need to separate each other all into our own little boxes is incredibly isolating. the point of having this community to begin with, is so we all know that we're not alone.

everyone's just trying to live their lives. you genuinely seem like you have good intentions and god, i KNOW that this argument's tiring, and i can't imagine what it's like to deal with all the other arguments targeted against lesbians in particular, and i won't act like i'll ever understand the struggle with lesbophobic arguments, since i'm not a lesbian.

but people outside of the community are taking advantage of this argument even existing in order to make life worse for us as a whole, regardless of whatever label you choose to use. whether you're bi, a lesbian, or a bi lesbian, doesn't matter to the people passing bills against our rights and healthcare and protection. any difference to them is equally wrong. i'd rather stand against that idea as a whole than go along with it to suit whatever i'm trying to convey.

i just don't want to cause people to struggle to be themselves and live their lives simultaneously. majority of us have that same goal. even if we don't agree with each other along the way, at the end of the day, we all just want to feel safe and happy.

#not a poll #discourse

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi, I am an INXJ 21F (unclear about own type) with an INFP acquaintance. She is very vocal and firm about her position and thoughts, she also finds it very easy to share her darker/messier self to others and to ask for help and advice. I am utterly torn about this person and wonder if my negative reactions are a reflection of my own insecurities as she herself seems like a well-integrated and self-aware person. I admire her ability to share so openly because it initiates an opportunity for others to be vulnerable with her as well. I know that it is not something I could do myself with my perfectionism and dislike of burdening others. But I find it frustrating and embarrassing that she is the only one on the group chat being vocal about her stress and everyone else coddling her up, when hypothetically this should go both ways. I’d appreciate your insight on what this says about me or about her!

----------------

1) What does it say about you? It looks like you've got some idea already because you mention how it may be reflective of your issues like perfectionism. The way in which you are unnecessarily getting entangled with her is probably an indication of projection. Projection is the (unconscious) tendency to see your own unacceptable desires in other people.

On one hand, you deem it "unacceptable" to be authentically yourself in public. Why? As you've alluded to, it's likely due in part to self-loathing. You yourself don't want to see your negative aspects, let alone expose them to others. Perhaps you fear that others will judge you just as negatively as you judge yourself. Hence, the perfectionism.

On the other hand, authentic self-expression is a real and legitimate human need, and you cannot deny a universal psychological need no matter how hard you try. Thus, when you see someone being so effortlessly authentically themselves, it serves as proof that it's quite possible, and it reminds you of how terrible it feels to deny yourself the opportunity.

This contradiction of denigrating yet desiring authenticity creates cognitive dissonance for you: Are you right to deny your authenticity or is she right to express hers?

Projection is a defense mechanism. Instead of confronting one's own wrongs, it's easier to point out the wrongs of others. By judging her authenticity as "unacceptable", you can continue believing that you're in the right to deny your own need for authenticity. Unfortunately, defense mechanisms are unhealthy because they separate you from the reality of yourself, but you can't escape reality forever. The reality is that you keep denying yourself of authentic self-expression and it's immensely painful and that's why this issue pops up for you. You use perfectionism to blunt the pain. You use martyrdom to blunt the pain. But these strategies can never eliminate the pain because they never confront the true extent of the pain and its root cause. (FWIW, this issue is prevalent in INFJs.)

You also say you're frustrated and embarrassed when she's so open and gets all the attention because it should hypothetically "go both ways". I don't disagree with equality in relationships, but your negative reaction raises an important question: Why would people "coddle" you when you never allow yourself to express the need for it? After all, you don't show off those darker aspects of yourself, right? The fact that you use the word "coddle" in reference to emotional needs belies a very negative attitude about emotional life on your part.

I can't speak for the others in the group who aren't here to speak for themselves, but the inequality you witness in your relationship to her isn't because of her, it's because of YOU and your unwillingness to treat your emotional needs as important and deserving of "coddling". Just like above, it is also projection to judge/blame her for hogging attention just because you deem it "unacceptable" to ask for so much attention for yourself. It wouldn't be fair to want her to feel apologetic or in the wrong for doing what you can't do.

Now, if you explicitly asked her to reciprocate (to attend to your emotional needs the same way you attended to hers) but she flatly refused, then you'd have a right to feel resentful. That would serve as concrete proof that she doesn't care about your needs as much as her own. However, even then, it's not very useful to get lost in blame or judgmentalness - what would it achieve? It would turn you into a cold and dark version of you, thus giving you even more to dislike about yourself. When someone proves to be a bad friend to you, you could choose not to dwell on it and simply move on to find a better friend.

2) What does her behavior say about her? Does this question presuppose that everyone should have some kind of judgment about her behavior? Being judgmental is an indication that you lack proper interpersonal boundaries, which is, in part, what makes projection so easy to deploy. Lack of boundaries means you don't know where you end and others begin. You don't see the world as it is but as you are.

Reflect: Why do you get so invested in how others behave? If someone isn't being grossly unethical, on what basis do you feel justified to make judgments about them and their character? After all, the way they choose to live is really none of your business, is it? Do you believe that people should be free to be themselves? If not, you're going to have a lot of relationship problems. If you want the freedom to live as you please, you should grant the freedom to others. But if you don't take advantage of the freedom, are you going to begrudge others for doing so? It wouldn't be fair of you.

I have nothing to say about her because how she behaves is her business. It has nothing to do with me, so why should I have any judgment about it? It affects you, though. You fixate on her because she is bringing your unconscious issues to light. She is an image you've created for the purpose of self-scrutiny. You can use this as a golden opportunity to address your underlying struggles with authenticity, or you can indulge judgmentalness and continue to get triggered by these brazenly authentic people for the rest of your life.

#projection #judgmental #boundaries #relationships #ask

[dunmer-pussy]

hey guys can i admit an insecurity slash issue that's actually sorta crushing me but i cant shake it no matter how hard i try. it's under a cut so you can scroll past it, idk if this would be considered vent-y or not but i gotta say something somewhere n it's also my blog and i post whatever i want on it. though i do talk abt my ex and the emotional/mental abuse i was put through. so be warned.

keep in mind it's 4am when im writing this

okay so my boyfriend-slash-prospective-husband is going to university soon. he doesn't want to.

now i am consumed with this overwhelming dread, overwhelming terror, that this is the end for our relationship. sounds pretty silly huh. why should i be so panicked about a simple fact of life that some of us might decide to tackle through our lifetimes. so why be so upset about it?

HOWEVER. my head is severely screwed up.

my ex happened to be extremely emotionally manipulative/abusive and the damage that they've caused rears its ugly head here more than anything else. i am terrified, and i mean deeply so, of my boyfriend becoming too busy for me and forgetting about me and dragging me through an absolutely vicious period of neglect (which is what my ex did, and punctuated it by confessing to me that they never loved me to begin with and that our entire bond was a lie among other things SUCH AS successfully manipulating an entire group of people against me in order to hurt me, and demanding i stay silent about how i was treated among other things but that's a story for much later when I'm more ready to tell it)

now i know, logically, that that isn't going to happen. my boyfriend genuinely loves me even if my trauma wants to grab me by the throat and spit in my face about otherwise in the voice of my ex. i know he loves me, i know he will keep up with me as i will with him. hell we have no reason not to. he's given me the strongest sense of stability and love i haven't had since my ex had me believing they actually wanted me.

and my perception of love and my relationship with love is very, very broken as a result of the life I've lived and the fucking shitstain that was my ex. so it's scary to put so much trust in someone and so much love in someone despite my raging terror that it will all explode back in my face.

heartache is part of life and pain is part of life but when you've experienced it so much you want to get out of it and when you're this fucked up the releases from this pain are just as scary as the reasons you're in so much agony.

I am eternally grateful that my love is so patient with me. he doesn't judge me, or wish to hurt me, and it's like we grow closer and closer every single day. i am so in love with him that sometimes it feels like a physical pain in my chest and like every wound i have is healed or at least numbed. when we met there was love in his eyes, and i felt that it was real and true. which i cant say about my ex when we met last year and they essentially treated me and my mom like fucking maids and had a bitchfit when we called them out LMAO

my sister would psychoanalyze me, say that my lack of personal stability is going to drive my boyfriend away. that I'm setting our relationship up to fail, etc etc etc, a self-fulfilling prophecy. i disagree but only on the grounds that i need to heal into love rather than separate from it and that my boyfriend is just the stability i need while he lays my aching heart to rest and helps me heal. i dont trust, because of how my ex manipulated me, so having things proven with time is just what I need and just what my boyfriend is providing. I'm a battered shelter dog and i don't need to be alone anymore. I've been alone enough.

because of how my ex practically rewired my head and exploited my fears and vulnerabilities and left me with damage that is worse than any other situation I've been in, its difficult to trust people closest to me. i try, i genuinely try, but it's an ugly defence mechanism. it's why I'm so reclusive.

it's why i'm so deeply terrified of my beloved going off to uni and forgetting about me.

"give him space, he has work to do, let him be," my sister would say. trying to paint me as clingy. I'm just scared. i know all i have to do is put faith in my boyfriend (i do) but it's so fucking hard when you're this screwed up and can't tell the future.

i just wish i could have some certainty of what's going to happen. I'm terrified my world is going to end again this September and i wont survive it. i am so fucking scared. it's like I'm grieving someone i haven't even lost (and wont loose) yet.

i hate this. i dont want to feel like this.

#caydeposting #i cannot take someone labelling me a thousand buzzwords again #i am me. and i have real human pains and i know what's good for me. #i'm sorry

[justanotherthrowaway1950]

Why Do People Think Comics!Zuko Is Becoming Ozai 2.0

A common criticism of the ATLA comics is the fact that several characters, like Aang and Mai, think that Zuko is behaving like, or is on the road to becoming, his old man. 

For yes, it is true that Zuko makes lots of mistakes in the comics, mistakes like failing to talk to Kuei and Aang before unilaterally ending support for the Harmony Restoration Movement, thus almost restarting the Hundred Year War, or failing to ask Mai and Ty Lee how they felt about him releasing Azula from the asylum into his custody. Not to mention all the mistakes he made in the TV show like siding with Azula in Ba Sing Se or hiring Combustion Man to kill the Gaang.

But is it not equally true that Zuko was not only instrumental in taking down Ozai’s regime, but also enabled, albeit indirectly, Mai and Ty Lee to escape their toxic/abusive friendship with Azula? 

Did they not spend quality time with him and learn that, beneath the social awkwardness, anger, and hot-headedness, he is someone who wants to do the right thing, is willing to admit his mistakes, and is willing to rectify the harms he caused to the best of his abilities, even when he thinks there is no forgiveness or reward in store?

So why are his friends and allies so quick to label him Ozai 2.0 instead of trying to give him support and help him work through his problems, especially when they know he has the mountential task of reforming the Fire Nation essentially by himself, and especially when they know he is the only viable long-term claimant to the throne who is on their side?

Well, despite the comics never clearly stating the reason, I think the answer is quite obvious once you take into account what his nuclear family members are like, or more specifically, their mental states. This is because with Azula's fall to madness plus Ozai's mad plan to burn the Earth Kingdom becoming public knowledge, people know that mental illness runs in his bloodline, and so they fear that he too may fall into madness.

Hence why everyone keeps saying he is turning into Ozai, even though Zuko's actions are driven by a mix of selfishness, naivety, inexperience, and stress, and not the over the top sadistic maliciousness and ambitiousness that drove Ozai.

“Ok, that makes sense. But how come then they don’t insist on taking measures or offer him resources to help him stay clear of that path to begin with? For yeah they know that Zuko is susceptible to mental illness, but did they not see him fight against his upbringing, indoctrination, and abuse to do the right thing with no expectation he would get anything out of it other than a clear conscience?”

“So why don’t they help him establish a healthy support system instead of, for example, agreeing to end his life when it seems like he is going off the deep end?”

While I agree a hundred percent with the above opinion, the problem is four fold in my opinion. First, they aren't always going to be there for him most of the time due to living in other parts of the world, or in Mai’s case, wanting to spend time away from him and pressures associated with royal life. 

Second, he isn't just their friend, or (potential) lover in Mai’s case, but also the Fire Lord. So matter how hard they try, they won't always be successful at separating Zuko, their hot-headed, socially awkward friend/lover who risked life and limb to help end the war, from Zuko, Fire Lord of the reforming Fire Nation, and someone who has intimate ties to the old regime.

Third, apparently Aang's era lacked knowledge in regards to mental health. For even though "Nightmares and Daydreams" suggested otherwise, they have no concept of therapy. In fact, the Fire Nation's idea of mental health services are asylums that share more in common with torture-like 19th Century western asylums than our modern conception of therapy considering the usage of straightjackets.

(Even though they really had no other real way to restraint Azula, or the other Fire Warriors, that would not be equally tortious, if not worse, as long as she kept her bending, it does not change the fact that using a straightjacket on someone is torture.) 

Finally, the Gaang, despite their feats and power, are all teenagers who are still growing up and dealing with their own issues and trauma. So I don't think it is fair to expect them to be the emotional support system that Zuko, who is the oldest one in their peer group outside of Sokka, needs. Especially when the older and wiser Iroh struggled to support Zuko.

“Ok, so the Gaang can’t take an active role in ensuring that Zuko does succumb to his inner darkness. Nor should they since they are too young and ill-qualified to play such a role in his life. But why do they treat Zuko at times like an irrational actor, or fail to treat him like one of their most important political allies?”

“For example, why did Aang agree to The Promise when anyone with any common sense would know Zuko was speaking out of fear? How come no one ever checked up on him outside of diplomatic meetings in the year between the start of The Promise and the start of the Yu Dao Crisis? How come Aang was so quick to kill Zuko the moment it seemed like Zuko was starting to slip?”

“If Zuko expects Aang to be able to drop everything to murder him, is he wrong to also expect Aang to drop everything to have honest conversations with him before he becomes an Ozai-tier monster?”

Well, my response is that friendship is a two-way street. Moreover, Zuko is a ruler and a legal adult, so it is not too much to expect him to not fall apart just because he does not have his friends by his side all the time. 

So just like the Gaang were being bad friends and politicians by indulging in his fears and letting him languish until he became liable to go to Ozai for advice and actual use it, Zuko was a bad friend and ruler, not to mention arguably a manchild, for letting it get to that point.

For Zuko should have never asked Aang, his best friend and someone with a no kill rule for deeply held religious and cultural reasons, to kill him if he ever started to slip.

Zuko, despite having Mai, and later the Kyoshi Warriors, by his side, decides to secretly seek advice from Ozai.

Zuko is the one who unilaterally ended the Harmony Restoration Movement and assaulted Katara when Katara and Aang tried to ask him why he suddenly changed course.

Zuko, despite getting shown mercy by Aang and convincing Aang that it was right to stop the Harmony Restoration Movement in regards to the oldest colonies, thinks that it is wise to have Aang set up a conference with Kuei to discuss the change in plans instead of making a beeline to the Earth Kingdom Royal Palace.

In fact, Zuko decides to go to Ozai for more advice and decides to bring an army to Yu Dao knowing damn well it is liable to restart the Hundred Year War, and only gets bailed out by Aang coming with the radical (in ATLA) solution of self-determination in the nick of time.

But to conclude since I I think I have rambled on long enough, the reason why people think comics!Zuko is becoming Ozai 2.0 because they know madness runs in his nuclear family, and so that, combined with their era’s limited knowledge on mental health, causes them to think that Zuko is one bad day from succumbing to his inner darkness. 

Especially since they are too young, busy, and ill-equipped to serve as the support unit Zuko needs as he attempts to reform the Fire Nation, and Zuko himself has not done the best job of avoiding situations where he is liable to succumb to his inner darkness.

So is there anything anyone can do to help him?

Well, outside of the Gaang checking up on Zuko more frequently, Zuko needs to continue working on himself, and in the process come up with healthy coping mechanisms both in his professional and personal life, so he can not only become the ruler the Fire Nation and the world needs, but also the healthy, happy, and (relatively) well-adjusted person he wants to be as well.

#zuko #ozai #azula #mai #ty lee #the gaang #atla comics #fire nation royal family #atla comics meta #fire nation royal family meta #justanotherthrowaway1950meta

[stormyoceans]

that was literally so helpful thanks! and that's such an interesting trope too, cause there was a /moment/ in that bathroom if i remember correctly so they are probably gonna be in love in two different planes of existence/universes???? that's pretty cool ngl, how do you think the recognition is gonna turn out? is it gonna cause drama? why are people mad about jimmy's character not talking about his "other life"?

ANON DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE JUST AWAKENED BUCKLE UP IM GONNA TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE

so, one of the concepts introduced by the show is that of ‘portkeys’. it’s still unclear how the whole process works, exactly, but basically a portkey is someone who also traveled between universes: when you find this person who matches you in some way, you will start dreaming of a place, and if you go to this place, chances are that you will be able to go back to your original universe. as of now, though, we don’t really know if this is something that happens as soon as you meet your portkey, or if it’s something that can be triggered later on by some specific event

all this to say that i personally think puen’s identity reveal and the two of them recognizing each other could happen in two different ways:

puen and talay are each other’s portkeys and puen telling talay his name is gonna be what finally triggers it;

puen and talay aren’t each other’s portkeys, which means they’re gonna go back to their original universe separately and, because talay still won’t know who puen is, puen will have to be the one to go and find talay.

i feel like the show is probably gonna go with the first option, but since im an overdramatic hoe at heart, i would LOVE for the second one to happen (im sorry but it would be THEE perfect story line for the dreaded episode 11 heartbreak: the anguish of being separated, the desperation of trying to go back to the other, the relief of finding each other again, the fear of not being soulmates and the bravery of choosing to love each other anyway….. LOSING MY MIND JUST THINKING ABOUT IT)

tbh i don’t think puen’s identity in itself will cause some drama, nor the fact that he is keeping it from talay. from what we’ve seen in the preview for the next episode, they will definitely talk about it, but mainly because puen would like to remain in the alternate universe for as long as possible and isn’t really looking forward to go back to their own, so talay will try to understand why he feels like that

this is actually why some people really dislike that puen is keeping his identity a secret: they’ve known each other for a little more than a year by now, and while talay has been very open about any details of his life in their original universe, puen is still hiding his name from him. i think that this, paired with the fact that puen isn’t dying to go back to their universe, can give an impression of imbalance in their relationship or create the idea that puen is deliberately withholding informations from talay to keep them stuck in the alternate universe

personally, i can’t really see it that way, but maybe it’s because i find it hard to believe that there could be any malicious intent behind puen’s actions. when i look at puen, i don’t see some manipulative mastermind who doesn’t care about talay’s feelings, but only a very lonely and sad man who, despite being famous, had no real human connections and so is desperately trying to hold on to the ones he was able to build in another universe, even if he knows that it cannot last. i can hardly blame puen for wanting talay to know him for who he is, not as a famous actor who talay may have some preconceived notions about, but just as a normal guy like any other. is it selfish of puen to still keep his identity a secret after a year? yes, of course it is. does he know for sure that if he told talay his name they would go back to their universe and he’s purposefully refusing to reveal it to trap them in the alternate one? well, i don’t know, but i don’t think so, and even if he had the suspicion, i think he is just afraid of losing everything, of losing talay, and ending up alone once again

it may not justify him, but i can empathize with him, and from what we know about talay i feel like he will too (and while part of me does understand why some people actually want talay to be upset, the other part of me doesn’t really get why it has to be a big deal. also i do wonder if puen’s identity is that important after all. like.. what’s more important, that talay knows his name, or that talay knows that puen likes to read shoujo manga and that he is a flirt but gets shy when talay flirts back and that he acts like a sad kitten when he is upset and that, above all, he loves talay? it kinda reminds me of a quote from a character of one of my favorite shows: ‘you know of me all i can bear to be known. all that is relevant to be known. that is to say, you know my genuine friendship… and loyalty. can that be enough and there still be trust between us?’ i guess the way each of us answers this question can also tell how we feel about puen still keeping his identity a secret)

#anon i need you to know three things: #1) IM SO SORRY #2) i have no idea if this makes sense #3) you're giving me an excuse to talk about vice versa so im feeling so much love and affection towards you rn #please accept these cookies as emotional compensation for this entire thing #🍪🍪🍪 #vice versa #vice versa the series #puentalay #m: ask

[crazysodomite]

////////

I think the best way I would describe my state as of recently (recently would be several years with a gradually worsening condition) is being awake but not conscious. It really hit me in recent days even though it has been happening for such a long time that I don't even really remember if I was ever conscious at all before.

I don't ever feel 'present' in any situation. Every sensation and experience feels distant. Like there's a wall in front of me I can see through but nothing gets to the other side. It always feels like my eyes are open but I'm not seeing anything. I think it even caused a bit of tunnel vision.

I'm always ruminating. I can't stop 'thinking'. And it isn't thinking about anything in particular either. It's more like 'thinking about thinking' and it's a constant wall that separates me from 'experiencing' anything. I noticed this a lot. I was sitting on the ground after doing something physically demanding and being in a lot of pain. And I was looking down on the ground and I saw a little ant. And all I was thinking to myself was 'I don't feel present in this moment' or 'I don't feel like this is happening'. I remember this happening but it doesn't feel any different to anything else. It doesn't 'feel' like an 'experience'. When I'm in the shower and I'm pouring hot water over myself. The sensation is distant to me. And I'm still constantly ruminating... It's an internal monologue that never ends and can't be stopped. Pain is distant too. It doesn't ever 'take me out' of ruminating. I was looking at a beautiful field in the morning. And all I could think was 'It doesn't feel like I'm appreciating/experiencing this'. 😦

I can really go on. I was trying 'grounding' techniques yesterday. And I haven't made any progress. It just feels like... I breathe in and try to stop thinking and without me even noticing it starts again. This is why I really struggle falling asleep in silence unless I'm too exhausted to keep thinking. It was torturous trying to stop it to be honest. It's hard for me to remember if I was ever 'not thinking' like this. I feel like I used to be 'present'. It also feels like my brain constantly combs through my memories to find something to be extremely anxious about. It's the only feeling I have left I think. The really sharp fear when I finally 'remember' something that can induce anxiety and horrible thoughts.

It's just no matter what I do it doesn't feel any different to anything else. Talking to someone doesn't feel any different than not talking to anyone at all. Going out and doing a 'fun' activity doesn't feel any different than staying in my bed. Experiencing nature doesn't feel any different than being holed up at home. Reading a book doesn't feel like anything and I don't feel like I'm taking in any information. 'This is supposed to be fun' but doesn't actually feel like anything. It doesn't feel good or bad. It's just nothing. I think I have to write down that I did something or I'm just gonna feel like I did nothing. I'm not conscious of the fact I did something. It doesn't occur to me. I'm starting to get a little scared I'll be so disconnected from consciousness I'm going to do something irreparable because I'm not even realizing it's happening. It's just that bad. And I think I'm only starting to realize it now. Not that I know what to do with it and how I can make it better. It's really frustrating because. Let's be real. Socializing and going outside of my family is very dangerous and not really feasible now. For obvious reasons. And my family is just a constant stressor on me that makes me feel fatigued and upset about life in general.

This is obviously happening from total social isolation. But there's simply nothing I can do about it. Without potentially putting me in harms way or just more stress I can't handle.

I think I want to exercise mostly. It's just hard because the fatigue is so strong I can barely get up. And there's nothing and no one to help me recover/get back on my feet. In reality I'm so bad I think I actually need several courses of physical therapy. Or at least I think so. I don't actually know. It doesn't feel like I can do anything except backslide. I can't move forwards on anything.

Oh right. I really think art is truly something special for a person. Because doing art is the only thing I can see through to completion and focus on and feel present. As if I really did it. It' just that I rarely feel the energy to do art. So it's not a solution obviously. Just something I noticed.

[imbeccable-writes]

What do you think would happen if the canon Warners met the ones from your AU, after they took over Warnerstock? My guess is the canon sibs would recognize the capes and crowns and mentions of Salazar and Warnerstock and instantly, half-rightly clock they were from a universe where the Wakko’s Wish movie was real life. Assuming only the Separated sibs needed filling in, they’d explain their life story…

Canon Yakko: So we were all locked in this water tower, and ‘cause toons here are immortal, we were stuck here for sixty years! And we finally got out -

Separated Wakko: Wait. You grew up together?

Canon Dot: Well, yeah. We spend every moment together. It’s one of the few redeeming qualities of our frankly horrendous lives.

Separated Yakko: (eye twitches, while his Wakko just stares at their other selves in awe) So you always knew where your siblings were and that they were okay?

Separated Dot: (with slowly building rage) You always knew what your brothers’ faces looked like?

Separated Wakko: (not angry, but curious) You never felt this ever-present sense of wrongness and loss because you weren’t meant to be alone?

Separated Dot: You didn’t nearly die of tuberculosis on the streets and then get taken in by strong contenders for the Worst Parents Award?

Separated Yakko: Did you ever even stumble upon the hanged corpse of your surrogate mother, giving you PTSD and the beliefs that you were innately unlovable and everything you loved would inevitably die?!

[Beat.]

Canon Wakko: …I get the feeling your lives weren’t like our movie.

Canon Yakko: I mean, we’ve definitely been abused, neglected, betrayed and abandoned by most authority figures who have had and still have power over us, if that somehow helps. Wow. No wonder the fandom is a sadistic, masochistic mess.

GOD i am So Sorry, I tried so hard to expand on what you already gave me but my brain just Would Not Cooperate, and now it's been months since you sent this and I feel so bad akdjaj. Maybe one day I'll finish that drabble, but for now it shall just haunt me from my drafts, never to see the light of day again.

ANYWAY, but I really love the idea of the canon Warners comparing their lives to Separated Warners, if only so there's no sugar coating the bullshit both versions of them went through. S!Warners hearing that C!Warners have always been and will always be with each other from conception hits right home because that is quite literally the only thing S!Warners have ever wanted. and C!Warners hearing that not only have their counterparts been split up from one another since childhood, but also that they have gone through such horrible trauma without having their siblings there to help them through it would allow C!Warners to look back with a slightly less bitter eye and think, well at least we had each other.

I think having each individual character set next to each other to see just how differently they could have turned out is interesting too.

S!Dot is still sassy and spitfire-like, but she's subdued, often wracked with indecision and insecurity. C!Dot has never been unsure of anything she's done ever in her life.

S!Yakko is haunted by the death of his mother figure and has done mental gymnastics to conclude that everything that has ever gone wrong was his fault specifically, as victims of trauma are wont to do. C!Yakko has anxiety much like his counterpart, but he's confident, he's brash. He knows his sibs love him and that doesn't scare him; in fact, it's what gives him strength because he knows they'll always be there for him.

S!Wakko has taken it upon himself to be the sole bearer of happiness and love in a time and town full of sorrow and fear. He berates himself when he feels down because he thinks he's letting everyone else down. He thinks he shouldn't be feeling bad because he thinks of himself as a beacon of joy. C!Wakko is just happy to be here. KIDDING, he's happy to be here, but also he loves his siblings very much and loves to do skits with them and sing with them. He likes to have time to himself where he just vibes, which contradicts S!Wakko, who can't relax unless he's specifically helping someone Else relax.

The C!Warners understand that their fandom is full of people that love angst and hurt/comfort, so while the S!Warners' stories are upsetting, they're not all that surprising. It allows them to reflect a little, like I said, and be grateful they at least had each other.

The S!Warners look at their canon counterparts, and two-thirds of them are angry, sad. Why couldn't that be them? Sure, they went through bullshit too, but they had each other. That's not fair. And I think S!Wakko, beacon of light that he is, would take his siblings anger and understand it, but would inevitably be like, "Well... I'm just glad there's a version of us that's happy."

And it's a bit shocking hearing S!Wakko admit that he isn't, or at least wasn't, happy, but his siblings take a look at their counterparts, who are joking and teasing with each other now. S!Dot looks at how C!Dot doesn't hesitate to quip and snark and snap. S!Yakko looks at C!Yakko's relaxed shoulders, half-lidded eyes, smarmy smile, how he jokes and jabs and jabes with his siblings as if there was never any doubt that he'd be able to. Like the thought of parting with them for any reason had ever crossed his mind.

"Yeah," says S!Yakko, still bitter, but he had to admit, it was nice seeing a relaxed version of himself. It was like looking in a fun house mirror. "I guess there's that."

"Still wish it was us, tho," says S!Dot, who finds it harder to let go of bitterness and anger.

"Sure," says S!Wakko. "We can still be happy for them, tho."

"... I guess," she mutters.

ANYWAY, ended up writing a half-drabble anyway. Why is my brain like this. But yeah! I think fanfic characters meeting canon characters is always fun, because comparing similarities and differences is always interesting and cool. Thanks so much for the ask and I'm sorry it took this long to get out, again.

#separated #animaniacs #bec speaks #twma

[darkpoisonouslove]

WandaVision Thoughts

I just watched WandaVision - finally, FINALLY - and I wanted to write down my thoughts but at first there was nothing that I really wanted to discuss. The first two episodes I kinda skipped through because I wasn’t gripped. I didn’t care much about them. It was clear that there was something else going on just under the surface from the very start but I didn’t feel the need to comment on anything. And now I do.

I’ve just been slapped with the notion that Wanda is the villain of this story and my first reaction was terminal denial. And then the reviewer continued with the line of thought that yeah, you don’t think of Wanda as the villain because that’s not how the narrative presents her to you even though she did cause a lot of pain. Which, true, but I feel like she isn’t supposed to be the villain. She clearly didn’t control the very start of the mess and the very last episode shows that she didn’t really realize what she was doing to the people around her. Or at least she was trying very hard not to realize it but at the same time she still wanted to do the right thing.

What I’m thinking here is that Wanda was clearly aware that the whole thing was warped reality from at least the second episode. In the first episode she seems genuinely confused about some things, though, the flashbacks later on implied she was aware of what she’d done the moment she warped reality (we can actually see Vision forming on the TV behind her and Wanda putting them both on a TV show represents that she knows that this isn’t real but she’s also trying to forget that it isn’t real by pretending that the not-real-ness comes from them acting for a TV show, not from them being in a bubble of warped reality). So I’m thinking she tried to magic herself into forgetting that this wasn’t real in the sense in which she’d want it to be but she was forced to start coming out of her “unawareness” when things from the real world started getting through and they required her correction in order for her little bubble to keep existing. But even in that state she and Vision are outcasts and forced to hide a secret. In part, I think that’s a consequence of Wanda liking who they truly are (aka witch and synthezoid) and what they have together when they are their true selves and she didn’t want to change that. But in that case she could have just created the community around them to be accepting of their uniqueness. Instead, she chooses a scenario in which they are forced to hide. I think that was meant to separate them from the people because Wanda does not truly feel comfortable. Like, she knows that she doesn’t belong there and is creating obstacles for herself. Almost like she’s self-sabotaging.

And then there’s the one moment from the first episode that was striking to me. That moment when Vision’s boss is choking and his wife starts screaming “Stop it” at him at first, but then it’s redirected at Wanda. Wanda makes Vision save him which threatens their cover that is currently creating the main stakes for the two of them. She saves the man’s life because it’s the right thing to do even if it threatens the life she’s created for herself. She chose to do the “heroic” thing even when it could potentially destroy her life yet again like it’s done so many times before (though not really since she does have control of the universe). In fact, maybe her initial resistance was less due to fear of being found out for who they truly are since she can just fix that but because she has a subconscious block to doing what a hero would do because that has been destroying her life. But she still does the right thing. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. And then in the last episode she says that she’s given the people peace. I think she believed that because she had some peace and the reason for that was that she inflicted her agony on the others. Or at least shared it with them. I think that Wanda is angry at the world for not knowing - or at least not helping her deal with - Vision’s sacrifice. And she’s angry with Vision for making her go through with it and with herself for failing to protect him from Thanos. All of that has left her isolated and lonely. So sharing her emotions with the rest of Westview made her feel at least somewhat more at peace and she believed that the others were at peace as well. In fact, the moments when she has been menacing were all moments when she was forced to confront the reality on her own. The drones, the “beekeeper”, Monica, “Pietro” - those were all things that she had to face on her own because no one else knew about them or could know about them. Not even Vision who’s also been warped to fit in this reality. Those things forced her to fight alone again and she exploded in anger against that. She only expanded the borders of Westview to keep Vision safe and then she instantly regretted it, her reality starting to glitch around her.

I also think that Wanda started trying to fit in the fake community she’d created in episode two because she was reminded in the previous episode that the world around is something she created and she was trying to forget that again by clinging harder to the persona she has made herself play. However, Dotty was on to her despite that as if Wanda is at the same time trying to punish herself for what she’d doing. She controls these people. If she didn’t want to be found out, she wouldn’t have been. And yet, this woman that is only acting out what Wanda wants her to is coming close to destroying the whole script Wanda appears to want to keep going. She was only manifesting Wanda’s intentions. The problem was that the outside world breached their bubble when Wanda was contacted over the radio and that’s why she started trying even harder to fit in the world she herself created. In fact, that could be why she’s broadcasting her “show”. Because she wants to be found out and stopped on some subconscious level. Although, I think that the bigger reason why Wanda was broadcasting it was because she wanted someone to see and relate to it the way she watched sitcoms when she was little and lived through the characters’ adventures. She was looking for some kind of connection. Hoping that if someone sees her broadcast, they will connect with her and feel her emotions so she doesn’t have to carry them on her own anymore. The exact same reason why she trapped the Westview residents and forced them to play along with her story. And she was trying very hard to keep out the real world but she let Monica through. Twice. Because she could feel that Monica is like her - a grieving person. She could feel some kind of connection and she wanted that so desperately that even the thought of keeping the outside world away couldn’t stop her from allowing herself to be drawn to that connection. She only threw Monica out the first time because Monica was Geraldine at that point and didn’t remember her own grief. The Hex still let Monica through again the second time even if Wanda was wary of her because she knew Monica came from the outside world. Wanda only wanted compassion and understanding of her pain.

I guess you could call her the villain of the story. She did hurt those people and she had many opportunities to stop doing it and many signs that she should (even Vision telling her that she’s wrong) and her good intentions and eventual sacrifice don’t undo the harm she’s caused. Her grief and confusion and the fact that she was left with nothing - like the world at large didn’t care about her and the sacrifice she had to make - don’t excuse her actions but the thought that the agony that she was forced to carry on her own is strong enough to crush an entire town and it took another freshly grieving soul to see her point of view somehow makes me revolt against having Wanda be claimed as a villain. She and the people she loved chose to do good and they were all taken from her to a resounding silence. No one cared about her pain. But the moment she - not purposefully - caused others pain, the whole world is against her. It seems unfair. Especially when you consider that other Marvel characters are not treated the same way. Wanda says it herself in MoM that Stephen broke the rules of reality and got claimed a hero but when she did, she became the enemy. And that’s not the only example.

In Spider-Man: No Way Home Peter is also faced with a terrible choice that takes away everything from him because he was only trying to help people but he had support. Right when he needed it, he had his girlfriend and his best friend and his alter egos from alternate universes and without them, he would’ve turned dark just like Wanda did. He even actively wanted to cause harm which Wanda avoided even when she saw the one she loved being ripped apart because his body costs billions. Peter was warned that letting the anger and hatred consume him would lead to bad things and he still didn’t care. He was going to kill the Goblin even after his alternate self tried to talk him out of it and it felt way more premeditated than Wanda taking Westview hostage. In fact, he would have killed if there was no one to physically stop him. And guess what, there was no one to physically stop Wanda. No one was there for her to help her out of her pain. The man who was so “compassionate” to allow her to say goodbye to Vision was only hoping that Wanda would somehow kickstart Vision’s body again. He tried to kill her and her kids. He didn’t care about seeing her side of the story and recognizing her agony. No one did. And when no one did, Wanda crumbled under the burden she couldn’t carry on her own. Peter would have, too, without his alternate self to save him. But we’re not blaming him for that even when the only difference between his situation and Wanda’s is an external factor that neither of them had control over. And yes, Wanda didn’t stop when people told her she’s hurting others, not even when Vision did, but at that point she’d already sank very deep into her warped reality. If Peter had had the opportunity to do what Wanda did, it would have been harder to talk him out of it as well. And that is a point we can also make for Clint.

Clint in Avengers: Endgame loses his family and goes on a murder spree but somehow that’s okay because the people he’s killing are bad guys. Actually, Clint gets “judged” by other characters in the movie (mostly Rhodey) but I’ve never seen anyone say that Clint turned into a villain. Everyone understood that he was grieving. And how did he stop his vigilante murder spree and go back to being a hero? By being offered hope that his family will be returned to him. By having a friend come and check up on him and offer him a hand and a chance to do better. All things that Wanda only got once Monica had to fight her colleagues to sneak in Westview and give Wanda a chance. And Wanda listened, too. She let go the people she’d trapped even when that meant giving up the only chance she had of having Vision back and keeping their kids. She had to sacrifice her last hope of being happy (and to anyone who thinks it wasn’t a sacrifice because her family wasn’t “real” - fuck you) while it was made very clear that Clint came back to being a hero BECAUSE he was given hope. Yeah, I’m sorry but that is a goddamn double standard here, and isn’t it funny how the male characters were forgiven.

So no, I don’t believe Wanda is a villain. The world may not owe you kindness, but you cannot be held up to humanly impossible standards by being expected to never need a little help to stay on the right path. Especially when you’re forced to confront the world’s ugliness at every turn. So yes, being a hero exposes you to a greater risk of suffering but I think that in return for their heroism, those people deserve to be shown care by the ones that are benefiting from their protection and sacrifices. Because no one’s thanked Wanda for her successes but everyone wants to hold her responsible for her failures which is something that all Marvel heroes are subjected to. I don’t know if it was a misstep in Marvel’s attempt to make them less of embodiments of perfection that are put on a pedestal and address the issues of powered individuals in an already unstable world (which is good but should have come with a little more balance imo (which, okay, I suppose that is a point in and of itself about people’s distrust in the hope and safety heroes promise)) or it was a deliberate milking of the tragicness of martyr-like figures while simultaneously attempting to present them as more human so that more viewers can latch on to them but I think that it was a misstep. Even if the intent is to show the doubts and fear of the people in-universe, the narrative should at least hint that superheroes are not machines in a positive PoV as well because so far all we’ve seen is “they’re human so they will fuck up and we need to hold them responsible for that”. Kindness will always be an ungrateful job if you expect to be celebrated for it - in that case, it’s not really kindness - but the characters shouldn’t be made to pay for being people even when they are heroes because of their humanity, not despite it.

#wandavision #wanda maximoff #vision #marvel #mcu #peter parker #clint barton #thoughts #review #...kinda

[alfryco]

To Shelter You, Ch. 4

summary:  Nine people down on their luck and desperate for money join a medical study deemed almost too good to be true. What they thought would be just your average advertised trial turns out to be a front for human experimentation.

This is trial 32 and there’s no backing out of this one.

pairing: Alfredo/Trevor

also available on AO3

(Fic written in collaboration with @confusedeevee​)

(Ch. 1/ Ch. 2/ Ch. 3)

Upon their return to their cells, the hybrids and their jailors are met with screaming.

The screaming is coming from one source: BK. But it isn't the pain of her transformation causing it - in fact, that appears to be over already, judging by the dark brown tail falling behind her legs, though any ears are obscured by her hair and any teeth by her hands.

Instead, BK is screaming in panic as Ky convulses. Her change is yet to come, and something has gone horribly wrong.

"Well don't just stand there!" BK cries at the guards, "Freaking do something! Help her!"

"Somebody fetch a goddamn doctor already! Secure the others now!"

The others are too shocked and afraid to put up much of a fight as each are shoved and locked back into their respective cells. Men and women come running, crowding Ky with such density that even Lindsay can barely see the poor girl any longer. They shout instructions and questions at one another. Eventually comes a dreaded: "Her pulse is failing!"

"Get her to the med bay! I'll fetch Rhodes!" another doctor commands, and then she sprints out into the corridor as if her own life is on the line. The rest lift Ky, still shuddering, and take her away. They leave a room of hybrids shocked and scared into total silence, save only BK's near-hysterical sobbing.

"We were just talking when her eyes- her eyes rolled back into her head and she started to convulse."

Lindsay tries their best to soothe BK as Matt whimpers: "What's happening to her?"

"I guess that's what happens when our bodies don't take the process well," Trevor says stiffly. His eyes haven't left the door since the moment it had slammed closed on them.

"Is she dying?!" BK wails, her voice cracking on the next word out of her mouth. "Oh god, oh fuck, this can't be real! This isn't real!"

Alfredo moves quickly to the glass that parts him from BK, putting his palm to it. "Hey! Look at me, BK. She'll be okay."

But of course he thinks that. Alfredo didn't see those images on that screen; not like Matt had. It must be a lot easier to delude himself without seeing the reality so starkly presented to him. Or perhaps Alfredo is just an excellent liar.

Matt covers his mouth before another noise of distress can escape him. He just witnessed an innocent girl's death! As a consequence of something he, by some miracle, survived. Or rather, survived for now. Who knows if this raccoon DNA is finished mutating his body? Who knows if the whole ordeal won't kill him anyway? Some animals die when they're too stressed, right? He sure feels stressed enough now.

When he looks to Jeremy, he knows he’s thinking of the same thing, of the horrors on that screen. What the hell has he gotten himself into?

The hybrids wait on bated breath for hours for any news. More than once, BK breaks into hysterics that Ky must be dead. Others do their best to comfort or reassure her, but as time drags on, her fears begin to look more and more likely.

But eventually, that door opens once more, and the final hybrid is carried inside. Her eyes are closed and her body limp and pale, but the hybrids can hear her breathing. She survived. Like BK, her ears are hidden beneath her dark hair, but there’s no hiding what must be the longest tail of all the hybrids, with an explosion of red and black fur coating it. If they didn’t already know, ‘squirrel’ wouldn’t have been hard to guess.

As they lay her on her bed, BK scurries to her side of the cell, her hands pressed against the glass that separates them. “Ky! Ky! Oh my god, Ky! Oh, god, she’s okay, she’s okay! Ky!” she sobs, wiping at her eyes and covering her mouth.

One of the men who had carried her inside leaves the cell and points at the hybrid directly opposite her: Alfredo. “You!” he orders. Alfredo scrambles back, but this guy has no interest in entering his cell and dragging him away to some torment.

“If anything happens,” he points back at Ky’s cell, then back at Alfredo, “You’d better start howling, mutt.”

Minutes stretch into an hour as they wait for Ky to wake up. The tension is palpable as they listen closely for any change in the small hybrid's breathing. Though a few of the hybrids, too tired from the energy their transformations pulled from them, have fallen asleep.

A quiet groan snaps Alfredo's eyes to the cell across from him.

"What the hell happened?" Ky asks from where she lay on her bed. She has yet to move a muscle, and another groan escapes her before she does. A hand clumsy with sleep lifts to rub her head. Alfredo’s eyes shoot to Lindsay, fortunately awake, and Lindsay returns a worried look before they begin to approach Ky’s cell.

“Take it easy,” Lindsay soothes. “You’re okay.”

“Hm?” Ky runs her hand through her hair. She pauses. There is a moment of silence. And then she screams.

"Oh my god, what is that? What's on my head!?" Her hands have found the new set of squirrel ears that now sit on top of her head and she shoots off of her bed. "Get them off, get them off," she whimpers as she tugs at the ears. She stops though when she realizes that there is no pulling them off, that pulling on them will only lead to more pain. Tears shimmer in her eyes at the realization that her body was purposely transformed without her permission and that it all happened while she was unconscious.

"Ky, you're okay. It's gonna be okay," Alfredo says to try and reassure her from across the aisle. He's not sure if his words reach her but he can hear her heartbeat slow down just a hair.

Her cries almost soften to whimpers when her tail, the longest one in the room, brushes against her face. A new scream erupts from her mouth as she whips her head around to stare, wide-eyed, at the new appendage. It swings with her and in a different situation the scene would almost be comical.

With the sudden eruption of noise the rest of the hybrids are now awake. BK bolts up from her bed to the glass wall neighboring Ky's.

"You're awake, oh thank God you're awake," BK says tearfully. She doesn't care if the other girl's shouts and screams make her ears ring, she's just glad she's awake.

"I wish I wasn't, BK, I really wish I wasn't," Ky shoots back with hysteria in her voice. "I've got a fucking tail, I can't believe this!" Her chest is rapidly rising and falling now. Alfredo can smell what he assumes is fear rolling off of her.

Lindsay tries again to calm Ky down, "Ky, you need to take some deep breaths."

"Lindsay how can I focus on my breathing when I have a fucking tail growing out of the base of my spine?"

Behind Lindsay, Michael's tail starts to thrash back and forth violently as he feels his temper begin to rise. There's too much noise in here, his ears are ringing and he can't hear himself think. It feels like his head is about to burst. A fresh wave of crying from Ky when Alfredo tries to comfort her again is all Michael can take.

"Shut up! Just shut the hell up!" Michael's yelling echoes off of the walls of the cell block and the silence that follows is deafening. Ky's cries have softened in shock and Michael feels a pang of guilt about yelling at her, and he'll apologize later for it, but right now he just wants quiet.

"What the fuck man?" A growl is detectable in Alfredo’s voice as he glares at Michael. "She's just freaking out like the rest of us!" Now Alfredo's yelling and Michael's ears are ringing again, he grabs his ears in pain. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Gavin wrap his wings tightly around himself.

"I fucking get that, but right now I can't fucking think straight. Just need everyone to shut the hell up," Michael yells back at the jackal hybrid. He can see Alfredo's lip curl into a snarl, beside him Trevor says something, but Alfredo seems to ignore it.

"You know what? You-," Alfredo's retort is cut off by the loud bang of the door to their cell block being opened. Two guards enter, one pushing a metal cart full of trays while the other just looks to be there as backup.

"Rowdy bunch tonight, aren't we," The guard pushing the cart sneers at them and then smiles like he just made the funniest joke. His gray hair is cut close to his head in a military fashion and he looks at least to be in his early 60s. Michael instantly dislikes him.

Trays filled with what vaguely resembles food are pushed into their cells by the means of a tiny break in the glass at the bottom of their doors by the guard who is pushing the cart. The other guard, a younger man with brunette hair and steely eyes, just glares at each hybrid silently, his hands not straying far from the stun baton in his right holster. A tray containing what looks like barely cooked fish and a pale imitation of what looks like a salad is pushed into Michael's cell along with a bottle of water. A single metal spork is attached to the tray with a tiny metal chain, like the kind a bank would use to stop someone from stealing their pens. It crushes any hope Michael has of using the utensil as a tool to escape. Well, at least they won't have to eat with their fingers. How nice of them.

"Enjoy, pussy cat," the older guy says with a laugh and Michael can't control the hiss that escapes him. The guard just smiles back at him before moving on.

As the guards pass out the rest of the trays it seems the others aren't faring any better. It looks like BK has gotten a whole chicken leg and a gray mound of mashed potatoes if Michael's nose is correct. Both Trevor and Alfredo, since both of them were merged with a species belonging to the canine family, get what looks like meatloaf, but not the kind Michael’s mother would make him. No, that meatloaf- if he can even call it that, resembles something closer to 'leftover meat surprise' that a lunch lady who's not getting paid enough would pass off as school lunch for the day. He can't even discern what's on Matt's plate and in the cell next to him, Gavin looks like he got served a concoction of overly ripe fruit and grains mixed together with a side of mystery meat next to it. It seems none of the hybrids drew the long straw on getting a good meal tonight.

"We'll be back in an hour to take you to the showers, until then enjoy your feast." The older man laughs again like he's some fucking comedian. Michael would love to punch that guy in the throat right about now and he wishes he could as he watches the pair of men leave the room. The rest of them are silent as they take in their so-called "feast".

Michael really hopes that the fish in front of him is cooked, but honestly getting taken out by bad fish would probably be one of the better ways to go in here. His stomach growls, ever persistent, and with a resigned sigh, Michael picks up the tray and goes to sit on his bed to see what actual food he can pick out from his meal. At least they mentioned showers. He has to admit, It would be nice to get all the dried blood and sweat off of him.

“You’d think a place like this would be able to afford better food,” Jeremy grumbles as he pushes his food around the tray.

“I’ll be sure to mention it in the review, soon as we’re out of here,” Michael jokes humorlessly. He nibbles at a piece of fish and almost retches. Either being part cat has ruined his stomach of steel, or this food truly is unsafe for human consumption.

He tightly clenches his jaw and wills his stomach to not toss up whatever still remains in his stomach. Hopefully he has better luck with the salad.

An hour after lights out, Trevor is still awake. He can still feel the dampness on his tail drying from the poor excuse for showers they had gotten earlier. 10 minutes is hardly enough time for a regular shower, much less one with a new pair of ears and tail thrown into the mix. He barely had time to dry off and dress before he had been escorted back to his cell. And they only gave each of them one singular towel! His tail alone needs at least one towel just to dry it off.

At least the facility was "nice" enough to give them all toothbrushes and small, clear tubes of toothpaste. Trevor isn't sure if calling the instrument a "toothbrush" is accurate though. The item they had all received looked more like a slim rectangle of green rubber with toothbrush bristles on one end and a place for them to hold it on the other end. It’s similar in size to those big, pink erasers Trevor would use in school and constantly lose before he could even use half of it.

Jeremy had explained when one of them questioned aloud what they were that those toothbrushes in particular were used in prisons in order to prevent inmates from hurting themselves and each other. Trevor figures it makes sense.

He knows for a fact that he's not the only one feeling miserable after their showers; Michael and Jeremy both had plenty to say after their new animal instincts apparently freaked out when they went under the water and he can hear Ky still quietly trying to get the water out of her tail. It seems they weren't all made miserable by the showers though, because Lindsay came back to their cell beaming- if a bit soaked. The blonde's happiness was a harsh contrast to the people surrounding them, but Trevor's glad that at least someone is feeling better after the whole thing.

The fox hybrid tosses and turns restlessly for another half hour before he resigns to just laying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He doesn't know why he can't sleep. It couldn't possibly be because he isn’t tired - in fact, he’s utterly exhausted. But as he lies there in the bed, listening to the slow, quiet breaths and calm heartbeats of the hybrids around him, he simply cannot let himself fall unconscious. It’s like an uneasy sense of exposure has fallen over him - he doesn’t feel safe enough to sleep. Yet the others don’t seem to be having that issue. Even Gavin has managed to drift off, sat upright against the wall on his bed with his wings draped clumsily and closely around him.

Irate and drained, Trevor gives in to the stupid instinct to curl up beneath his blanket. He crumples around his stomach with his limbs pulled close and head tucked down for warmth at the edge of his pillow. Finally, that weariness eases off, and his mind lets him settle for sleep.

Or, at least, maybe he’d be able to if it wasn’t for something tickling his nose as he breathes.

At first, he thinks it could be a feather. He blows softly and wipes at it, and then pauses. His eyes half open, and he glares at the tip of his own tail. He hadn’t even thought about it, but as he had curled up, it seems his tail had pressed up around his limbs too, acting like a barrier between him and the cold of the room. He’s had the damn thing for less than twenty-four hours, and already he hates the way it, and those stupid tufts of fur on his head they called ears, seem to have animalistic minds of their own. Except, they don’t, and deep down, maybe subconsciously, Trevor knows he’s the one who did this. It irks him all the more.

“Stupid tail,” he grumbles, pushing it away from his face with his closest hand. Then, he curls up tight once more, pressing his face down against his knee so it at least is protected from fur. His arm pulls back against his chest and, yep, sure enough, he feels himself pulling his tail close once more like it’s on autopilot, this time with the tip falling against his forehead. He sighs, but this time, he doesn’t bother moving it. If this is the price of his body letting him sleep, then fine. At least none of the others can see him.

The hybrids are woken early the next morning, or at least it feels early to Michael. Kind of hard to tell the time of day when there are no windows to look out of. He blinks at the sudden brightness of the overhead lights, the fluorescent buzzing a low drone in his ears.

A tray is shoved into his cell as he opens his eyes wide enough to glare at whichever guard is responsible for food delivery this morning. On the tray, there is a bowl of what looks like a mixture of grains and dried out vegetables and fruit, with a bottle of water sitting next to it. It smells about as appetizing as it looks.

Everyone gets the same, but only Jeremy makes any move towards the food. He retreats soon after when Dr. Rhodes enters, looking over her hybrids with pride. Then her eyes settle on Michael with a look that makes his hairs stand on end.

"Eat up, feline," she tells him. "We'll be back for you in five minutes."

“Fuck off,” Michael spits at her, and he doesn’t even mind the hiss beneath his voice.

The doctor is unfazed. "Subjects, your tests begin today." Dr. Rhodes raises her voice to direct the rest of the room as she turns away from Michael. "A few of you will be chosen for today to complete your trials while the others will complete theirs in the following days."

The mention of tests and trials sets everyone on edge.

"What kind of tests?" Jeremy practically growls the question from his cell. Dr. Rhodes turns to him with a smirk on her face.

"Tests to see what limits your bodies hold, how well your DNA has intermingled with your animal counterpart, and how well your instincts respond to certain situations, among other tests of course," the doctor answers with anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

"You'll have to hold me down if you think you're performing any tests on me," Alfredo swears from beside Trevor with his fists clenched tight at his sides.

The doctor turns her gaze to the Jackal hybrid. "Oh, don't worry Diaz, we will." Then she turns on her heels, marching out. As she goes, she clicks her fingers at Michael. “Five minutes, cat!” she reminds him.

“Michael Jones, 27 years of age, born in New Jersey. Merged with the species Felis catus.”

Michael subtly bares his teeth at the woman who announces him to the group of men watching him. These guys aren’t scientists. They’re clearly higher than that, if the suits and the narrowed, expectant eyes are anything to go by. They’re behind glass looking into the arena set up to observe him.

He strains against the restraints that the guards had placed him in. When that doesn’t work, he flicks his tail and a low, irritated grumble rises in his throat.

“Subject is in good health, the appendages are fully functioning and we have seen some behavioral adjustments as well. Tests are still ongoing, but our scientists are confident that the merger has been a success.”

Inside his clenched fists, Michael feels his claws push out into his own palms. The pain draws his attention away from the fury he feels at being so dehumanized and ogled at. Like an animal on display at the zoo.

Whatever the men say, they say into a device in the scientist’s ear so that Michael can’t make it out. She nods, then looks Michael sternly in the eye. “This is your first test. Show them what you can do. No funny business.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Michael snarls, flashing his newly acquired canines in the process. But he has no choice but to remain compliant. If they don’t punish him for rebelling, they could just as easily punish the others. He can’t allow that.

The woman leaves the room, and the lights shut off the moment the door locks. His restraints fall away automatically, and he rubs at his now bare wrists while he blinks into the darkness.

And it is darkness, but it’s not like how he knows it. There’s certainly almost no light, except for the faint, almost non-existent, light coming through the observation window and yet, he can still see the outline of the obstacles before him almost as easily as if the lights were still on.

“Great,” he grumbles, “My eyes are glinting. I must look fucking ridiculous.”

“There’s a platform up ahead,” the woman’s voice says from an intercom. “Use the environment to get to it. This is a timed test. Good luck.”

Michael snorts, but when a buzzer sounds, he wastes no time. He takes off at a sprint at the first obstacle - a series of slanted platforms. He springs from one to the other with such agility and balance that even he is surprised, and when he lands on his feet on the cushioned floor on the other side of it, he has to pause. “Whoa,” he breathes to himself, looking down at his own body. It’s almost like it had a mind of its own - Michael knew where he wanted to be, and his body knew how to get there. “Okay,” he admits, “This is pretty damn cool.”

Tail flicking side to side, he sizes up the next obstacle - a high wall. No way he'd be able to scale it before, but now…

The run up almost seems inconsequential. When he pounces, his body launches him, and he only needs to kick up once for his fingers to find a purchase at the top of the wall. He hauls himself up, balancing on the slim wood as easily as, well, a cat, while he surveys the next obstacle.

A long jump over a body of water. The hairs on the back of his neck and the fur on his tail bristles at the thought. Yesterday's shower was no fun - falling into that thing won't be much better.

He jumps down to the floor, landing in a crouch. Then he backs up against the wall, puts his foot against it, and pushes off.

As if the wall jump didn't prepare him for it, Michael launches over the water, landing in a roll on the other side, as safe and dry as he was before he'd jumped.

"Holy shit," Michael whispers to himself. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little awestruck at the fact that he just jumped over that stretch of water like it was nothing.

The lights flicker back on, and Michael finds the doctor in the window scribbling on a clipboard. "Again," she tells him, "This time backwards. And faster."

“Lindsay Tuggey, 25, born in Texas. Merged with species Enhydra lutris.”

Lindsay feels their heart skip a beat not just from nerves, but from the subconscious thrill running through them at the sight of the pool before them. Its teal water beckons them in and it takes all of Lindsay's willpower not to plunge straight into the pool. Their toes curl against the floor in eager anticipation to take a running jump into the clear water, to feel the water envelope them- make them weightless without gravity's pull.

The black bathing suit provided by the facility is tight against their body. Lindsay wasn't expecting the scientists to ask them to change into something other than their prisoner garb, but then they were ordered to change out of their gray uniform and into something “more appropriate” for the trial.

They guess that even the scientists watching think it more logical for them to complete this "assessment", or whatever they're calling it, in clothes actually made for swimming and not the type to drag against the water.

Either way the otter-side of them is about to be very pleased and Lindsay looks forward to the relief from the restlessness they've been carrying since their transformation.

The smell of chlorine wafts up from the pool and Lindsay really wishes they didn't have heightened senses because the chemical smell is currently abusing their nostrils. It makes them want to plug their nose, but Lindsay's not sure how well that would be received by the scientists watching them. And though the scent is overly powerful, the otter hybrid can't help but to remember the long summers spent playing in the family pool and the many impromptu pool parties they went to when they were in college. If they close their eyes and think hard enough they can forget about the weight of the tail on their back and the ears on top of their head and they can almost hear the sounds of kids rough housing in the pool and smell the burgers and hot dogs being cooked on the grill, sizzling under the press of a spatula.

"Tuggey, step to the pool's edge," the shorter of the pair of scientists orders them. They do so. “Four lengths, as quickly as you can. Understand?”

They nod, and when a whistle is blown, Lindsay dives.

The water is like a balm to their nerves and stresses, enveloping them like it can protect them from the rest of the world. Lindsay doesn’t let the instantaneous relief slow them down though. They cut through the water, and resurface into a forward stroke. Even their tail propels them on faster, and they hardly need to think about it.

They’d been a good swimmer in school, but already Lindsay is certain that their transformation has improved their skill. The pool edge appears far quicker than they had anticipated. Swirling in the water, they kick off again.

By the time their lengths are over and Lindsay stops for a rest, they had almost forgotten about the whole situation. Not until a scientist blows a whistle at them and calls: “Again!” do they get a harsh reminder. With a deep breath, they throw themselves back into it.

“Gavin Free, 26, born in Oxfordshire, England. Merged with species Alauda arvensis.”

Dr. Rhodes steps back and beckons to Gavin. The smile on her face tells Gavin everything - she’s proud of how he turned out. It sends a shiver of revulsion down his spine and he pulls his wings close instinctively.

“Go ahead,” she tells him. “Show them what you can do.”

Fly. She means fly. They won't even train him first like Trevor had predicted. She thinks he should be able to do it without. Fly!

He shrinks from his task, but the doctor grabs his arms firmly before he can retreat any further. "Use those wings," she murmurs so low only Gavin could hope to decipher her words, "Or I'll have them broken. Your choice, lark."

Gavin gulps at the implications as he takes an involuntary step back. He can only imagine how painful it would be to have not one, but both of his wings broken. Most birds don't survive in the wild if their wing- or wings are broken. Would he be treated any different if it came down to that?

It's the growing feeling of fear and dread in his gut that spurs him forward. His heart is already thundering away in his chest and he can feel nervous sweat start to collect on his forehead.

Before him stands a tall structure, at the bottom lays a mat like the ones he's seen stunt people use in movies. The doctor pushes him towards it. His hands close on the bars of a ladder, and behind him, his wings shrink and pull close to him. He really doesn’t want to do this.

“Climb,” she orders. And what choice does Gavin have but to obey?

He pulls himself up the ladder with shaky limbs, crawling onto his knees at the top. The drop on the other side is sheer, and he almost whines. His wings spread as he pulls himself to his feet, but only in an attempt to balance himself.

The doctor watches from below, her eyes narrowed. ‘Fly,’ she mouths.

His wings are shaking when he stretches them out, looking straight ahead and certainly not down. “Okay. Okay, you got this. You got this, Gav. No I don’t. No, no, this is insane! I can’t fly. I can’t fly!”

“Our calculations suggest otherwise, Free! So do it! Fly!”

Shuddering with fright, he leans forward. Fighting the urge to simply pull them close and run, Gavin gives his wings a few test flaps. The wind is reassuring, but he still doubts.

Gathering up his courage, he raises his wings and steps off the platform.

His wings thrust down, but the lift isn’t there. His feathers don’t catch the air like they should, and his recovery is little more than frantic flailing. Screaming, he crashes face-first into the mat, his useless wings crumpling over his sore body as he moans in pain.

He doesn’t move until the pointed toe of the doctor’s heel jabs into his side. “Get up,” she commands. “Again.”

He knows he flew a bit during the whole alarm situation, but that was so much shorter and somehow less intense then this whole thing is. As he lays face down for another second or two he's reminded of the nature documentaries he would watch with his brother when they were little. Wouldn’t the baby birds usually learn how to fly from a higher altitude and only when they're ready? It seems only polite that he would be treated the same way with how little he knows about his wings. Another painful jab of Dr. Rhodes's shoe pulls him from his thoughts and proves to him that he will be getting no such courtesy.

With a grunt Gavin pushes himself to his feet. If they want him to fly before leaving this room, then it is going to be a very long day.

A door opens behind him, and the cold bites into him immediately. It's like a freezer was opened behind him. But before Trevor even has the chance to look up, one of the guards grabs him and throws him through.

He is fortunate that the snow is thick enough to break his fall, even if it sends yet more biting cold through his body. The door before him slams as quickly as it had opened, leaving him trapped.

Trevor casts his eyes rapidly around the snow-covered room. He has no idea how cold it is in here, but it’s got to be below freezing. The only obvious escape is the way he came in. What could they possibly want from him in here? Are they purely testing if he will survive?

Survive. He has every intention of it, and he soon realizes that his body knows exactly what to do. Already he can feel his ears pressing close to his head to conserve warmth, and the moment he crawls out of the snow, his tail swishes to dispel any stubborn snow while also drying the fur a little before it curls tight against his body. He’s part arctic fox now - for part of him, surviving in the cold is second nature. All he needs to do is listen to it.

"Trevor Collins, 22, born in Indianapolis, Indiana. Merged with species Vulpes lagopus. The trial is simple,” comes the doctor’s voice from an intercom that Trevor didn’t even realize was there until she spoke. There must be cameras too. “You’re not alone in there, Collins. We released a lemming into the room hours ago. Find it, and catch it. If you disappoint me, no hybrid will eat until tomorrow evening. Understand?”

Trevor bites back the retort that threatens to spill out of his mouth. It wouldn't do him or the others any good if he prolongs this trial further by arguing. Still, he can’t help but feel like they’ve thrown an impossible task at him, like finding a moving needle in a frozen haystack.

“How long do I have?”

“Until your body temperature drops below 33 degrees.” Trevor’s mouth has barely opened to protest before she cuts him off again. “Don’t want to freeze? Find the rodent. Good luck.”

The intercom shuts off with a click, and Trevor curses to himself, then throws himself to his knees to dig at the snow. Maybe he can find one of its burrows and follow it - hopefully even trap it in a corner.

It feels like Trevor's been digging for an hour at least when he finally decides to take a break. Different holes in the snow dot the room and yet he's had no luck in finding the lemming. He can't feel the tip of his nose anymore and his hands are starting to turn a sickly shade of white, even paler than he usually is. He's surprised that the rest of his body hasn't fallen into hypothermia yet; he assumes it has to do with this new DNA running through his body. Thoughts rush through his head as he tries to figure out a quicker way to do this. It's not just his body that's on the line if he can't finish this in time.

As if reminding him that they're still on top of his head, his ears twitch trying to pick up on the tiniest of noises. An idea pops into his head and he doesn't know if it's going to work- doesn't even know if he has time left for it to work, but he has to try. So with a deep breath to calm himself Trevor kneels in the snow and just sits there- and listens. Listens for a tiny life scurrying under the cold layers of snow trying to survive just like him.

When the noise comes, he’s not entirely certain that it isn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. It’s just like a scratch, a slight shuffle against the snow somewhere over to his left. Desperate as he is, he forces himself to focus, to not get too excited. Though his head and ears turn towards the noise, he doesn’t move, doesn’t even open his eyes. Not until it comes again. A shuffle, a soft squeak. Nothing his human ears can detect, but ample for the new ones that both immediately point towards the source.

From then on, it’s like an avalanche of new instincts wake up, instructing Trevor on what to do, what to listen out for, how to move, how to catch that prey, and Trevor listens to every last one. After all, a city boy from Indiana doesn’t know how to track and hunt a lemming, but a fox certainly does, and there’s more to this new fox side of him than he’d realized.

His eyes open, locking onto the spot of snow that his ears have directed him to. They don’t move from that spot unless his ears tell them to, and they are still furiously at work searching for any tiny sound of movement beneath the snow. When he moves, he keeps his body low in a crouch and his movements slow, and where he can, he sticks to pre-trodden snow. When the creature moves, he freezes so that it can’t detect him and his ears can focus on tracking it to the new location, if it backtracks through its tunnels. But it never goes far, and it doesn’t seem to realize how close Trevor has drawn to it.

Not until, in the first sudden movement Trevor has made since he’d started to really listen, rigid fingers punch through the snow and close around the lemming’s body.

For a moment, Trevor kneels, staring at the creature he’d dragged screeching and clawing out of the snow, now trapped in his grip. Shock turns to elation. “I did it… It worked… Holy fuck, I… I did it!” If his body wasn’t shuddering so violently from the cold, he might have laughed for joy. He turns his head towards where he’d heard the intercom come from earlier. “Hey! I did it! Let me out!”

“Congratulations, Collins,” somebody new says - not the doctor. Did he take too long? Did something happen to pull her away? “You will be released within a handful of minutes.”

“Minutes?!” Trevor whines, but the voice is gone. The whine continues, until he catches himself. Shaking his head, he bites his quivering lip to quiet himself. His breath hangs in the air before him. He’s not sure he’s ever felt so cold.

Holding the lemming to his chest, his body falls against the snow into a pocket he’d already dug out, hoping that the snow will insulate him. As he curls up, the lemming’s cries turn hysterical. “Okay, okay! Sorry about all that, little guy,” Trevor says, holding it back to the snow he’d dragged it from. The rodent scampers from his hands into the safety of its burrow, and at once, Trevor’s ears are in tune to the dull sounds of it digging away. It would be all too easy to catch it again.

But right now, he needs to focus on getting through the next few minutes without freezing. Arctic fox hybrid he might be, but most of him doesn’t get to enjoy the luxury of the thick white fur of his tail and ears. Coincidentally, those seem to be the only things he can move without issue.

It takes a while for him to rise, his joints stiff and rigid with cold. Without the hunt to distract him, or the fear or the adrenaline, it seems to penetrate much deeper. He stumbles for the door, but makes it only half way before he crumples. This is no use. He needs to get warm. Conserve heat. Survive.

He curls up tight in the disturbed snow, tucking his arms and legs and head to his chest. He consciously pulls his fox ears backwards so that they lie against his scalp to trap any excess heat, and his tail curls around his body, covering as much exposed skin as it can. Last night he may have hated it, but now Trevor finds himself pulling his tail close and covering his frozen nose and cheek with the soft fur of the tip, where the dense fur can catch and hold the warmth of his breath.

“Cold,” he whimpers through chattering teeth, like a plea to anyone who might still be listening, if they can even hear him. “So cold…”

By the time they come for him, his fingers are too stiff to uncurl, and he knows for certain that he won't be able to make his body stand. He's lucky that his ear can twist towards the door as it unlocks and track the footsteps that approach.

Two pairs of hands grab him, one by his leg and tail, and the other by his shoulder and the back of his shirt. They drag him, more than a little painfully, through the snow, out into a corridor so blissfully warm in comparison that it's painful, though it can't be warmer than the usual room temperature.

They drop him there on the floor, shuddering and shivering and moaning. He doesn't try to rise. When the door to the frozen room closes, his relief escapes him as a groan.

He's still collapsed there, though at least able to open his eyes and lift his head, when the doctor returns. She looks him over, tilts her head and regards him for a moment. If she's happy, she doesn't show it.

Then she turns on her heel and leaves him there. "Take it back to its cell. Make sure it's observed - if it deteriorates, let me know."

#rt hybrid au #ragehappy #rtwriting #alfreyco #mywriting #ourwriting #rtah #rt hybrid!au #rt hybrid fic

[cerulean-kingsnake]

PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE

I see a high stripe of passionate Red

And my ears tune in to the strong beat led

By all the bleeding hearts in the chests of soldiers

That have banded together in incredible numbers

To fight for equality and move progress ahead

Regardless of their risks of turning up dead

The Orange line up next serves as a witness

To the courage and honor of all who join with us

To cast decades of silence and caution to the wind

So we can buck the status quo and the way things have been

And no matter how hard they try to shut down or end this

It won't ever be over until we see some real justice

As rough as it will be while we keep moving on

We have to keep up this movement for ones already gone

So our Yellow stripe shines bright to keep us reminded

Of the happiness and light waiting for us to find it

All those threats of grey clouds they send all day long

Will never rain out our parades while we march strong

Hope for new growth along barren fields of thought

Kept empty and war-torn by bigotted ignorant rot

Is what I feel so strongly from our line of Green

More people rising up to spur change than we've ever seen

As facts prevail and harsh rhetoric's forgot

We'll keep celebrating June if they like it or not

'Cause our deep Blue stripe is ever-present, ever-mournful

Of all the well-loved people we have lost in this battle

They paid the steepest price for each brick laid

On this path we've worked so hard to steadily pave

For the next generations to love strong without being fearful

That society will shun them if a priest or grandma get tearful

Then our calming Violet line speaks of soul-deep healing

Through mindfulness, community, and compassionate feeling

It's a small but potent glimpse of a future so joyous

Where pains of the past lack the strength to destroy us

That euphoric vision is enough to leave us reeling

Yet they won't be satisfied 'til they have us all kneeling

Our flag still calls on us to support each other

It motivates our humanity with its flying colors

That battle-scarred fabric represents our life and liberty

Not unlike another flag displayed everwhere in this country

What happened to "pursuit of happiness" and "love thy brother"?

Why can it be tied to one banner but not the other?

Our colors and the societal struggle they represent

Should resonate more than anything with these men

Who make it well-known just how much they idolize

The founders of our country who would have given their lives

To use their influence to voice the people's discontent

With the needless oppression faced wherever they went

But the prejudiced refuse to understand when

It's easier for them to just point and cry 'sin!'

We hold no malice or ill-will in our hearts

But that can't matter to these people who from the start

Have been mixing up hateful ichor to drown this country in

So when everyone else is down they can claim that they win

As if it's all a game without consequence or toll

As if without an enemy they find their lives too dull

They want to see children from elementary school on

To pledge a flag that can't support the colors its worn

Since the day church and state separation lulled

And religious makers of our laws got a little too bold

Human love is not standardized or in limited quantity

But they won't listen to this fact because they just want to be

Praised for fighting off the 'evil' they seeded themselves

Then turned around and blamed on somebody else

But evil has never been born inside a truly caring heart

It spawns in hateful souls that pretend they're not dark

If they really want an end to moral depreciation

They should turn off their propaganda and look within

The only way to kill a weed is to take out the root

Otherwise is grows on to bear toxic fruit

If we as a country are to actually win,

We must promote love instead of condemning what they called 'sin'

#pride month #pride #happy pride 🌈 #my poem #poetry #lgbtq #cerulean-kingsnake

[a-tale-of-legends]

So uh. I put this in my drafts cause in mobile the asks are written funny when I try to answer them. But for some reason I can't go back and edit it???????? Which is. Weird. Good thing I took a screen shot.

Anyway.

( points to May/Brendan, Calem/Serena, Ethan/Lyra, Dawn/Lucas) Do they mean nothing to you anon /j Buuuut yeah, from the looks of it most protags are separate via timelines. I don't usually have a problem with this, since so far whenever there's an npc protag they aren't really doing....much. If you're lucky you get a Dawn/Lucas or Serena/Calem that tries to be very active in the plot, but outside of that they aren't much of a character. Calem/Serena tried to be buuuuut they failed imo. I think it really comes down the fact that if there's more than one protagonist in the game, one is gonna be less of a blank slate that the player can project on than the other. Which isn't a bad thing, I love giving the protags some personalities ( it's partially what started the Legendverse), but the whole point of the silent protag is for the player to project onto them. That, and Gamefreak sure doesn't make them as interesting as they could be. Lyra/Ethan are the biggest offenders of this imo. They. Really don't do much outside of tutorial stuff. You don't battle them, you don't fight with them, you rarely get any real depth from them like. I hate saying it, but if they weren't in the story at all it wouldn't have changed things, which really sucked to say cause I like HGSS. All of this is to say that this is why I have dual protags in my au. For granted,almost all of them are ocs, but they still share the protag title, just separated by "main" and "secondary".

Okay with all of that out of the way, to your ask anon. When it comes to hc about Juliana and Florian, it's...well it's not hard but it's annoying. Bc visually they're just Gloria and Victor 2. At least at first. Ironically I think the dlc art actually gives me a few ideas. This I'm treating these two as separate characters, so no genderfluid Florian/Juliana today.

Juliana: An excitable girl with a love for battling. Is known to throw rules away in favor of something more "fun"....whatever that is. She's generally very brash, and doesn't exactly think before acting. This bit her in the back Teal Mask, however. Afterwards she kinda.....lessened in terms of her usual energetic self. She became more serious and stoic faced- still Juliana, always Juliana, but the events of Teal Mask really brought her down. The last thing she ever wanted to do is to hurt a friend. In Indigo Disk she kinda adopts this serious, no nonsense persona which is admittedly, very weird, even for her. Seeing Kieran the way he is kinda makes it worse. She's a bit more....angry here. Whether it's at herself, others, Kieran, no one knows. She probably doesn't know. But through it all she just wants to make things right again.

Florian: The opposite of Juliana: a fucking nerd. Moreso wanting to focus on his studies than anything else, Florian is a skittish, rule follower to the T. Too bad the plot of SV ( and Juliana if we're doing dual protags) drags him into nonsense. But honestly it's a good thing overall. He becomes less rigid, a bit less fearful. He actually ends up enjoying himself more than he ever does and even makes some amazing friends to boot. Teal Mask was great for him! Until it wasn't. I like to think he bonded with Kieran very easily, both being somewhat shy, and an admiration of those who they deem stronger than them. When things hit the fan I think Florian was.....off. He was hurt. Very hurt. And he definitely beat himself over it. But he never let it show? In fact it seems that he's gotten more carefree as time goes on and a smidge more interested in battling. By Indigo Disk, Florian just seems like a brand new person. He seems more confident, more carefree, even leaning into Drayton's jokes a little. And yet, when he sees Kieran that mask sorta cracks. He's scared out of his mind. He doesn't know what to say or do no matter how much he thinks about it. But better do retreat, than face it head on, right? In the end, he just wants the same thing as Juliana, but is struggling to find an answer.

This post is getting long so I'm just gonna end it here. Sorry to anyone who wanted to see Gloria and Victor! But I hope you enjoy these hcs! They were fun to make!

#r answers #pokemon juliana #pokemon florian

[nobsvibe]

#cockroaches #howtogetridofcockroaches