#the longer i keep myself away from the narrative the more further removed and at peace i feel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

not-poignant · 2 years

Note

Back in the day when I was using FFN I saw a lot of people write their story however they wanted, and then remove the segment that didn’t adhere to the guidelines, leaving a link to their blog where they would post the deleted scene. It was a headache but it’s better than them not posting the story at all. I know that’s a lot of work to do for your already written stories, but maybe m&m? It’s just so sad to think that you’ll be walking on these stupid eggshells writing it.

Hi hi anon!

It was a headache but it’s better than them not posting the story at all.

Definitely. I've been on fandom sites for about twenty years, and when I wrote fanfiction under another name, for a small archive, I did this myself. You know, wrote a more explicit scene, told people they could email me for the chapter (since this was more common back then), and so on.

But you know what's way way way better than all of that?

Being able to post whatever I want on AO3. The freedom is so nice, and I'm never going back to shadily hiding explicit scenes in my metaphorical trenchcoat for folks. I'm done with living that way. And I'm never going to go back to that kind of 'dark ages' dystopian way of getting past censorship while AO3 exists, y'know? :) I was so a happy to walk away from that site, and I'm so happy not to be using the un-user-friendly clusterfuck that is FF.net anymore.

If Wattpad users do want all of my works, they can come to AO3, or download the stories in their entirety from AO3 and read them at any time on their e-readers. So they're technically not missing out if they're just willing to look a bit further afield! :D

As for Mallory & Mount, I'm no longer the kind of writer who writes stories that are 80% porn and 20% story, so the sex scenes won't actually be super prevalent in Mallory & Mount, it's very story driven. And though the sex scenes will be extreme and dubcon, I don't consider this the same as the outright rape that happened in Game Theory. I'm not as worried about that. Same with Underline the Black. I'm just not that kind of writer anymore, I can still write very intense scenes and quite extreme dubcon, but I just don't really feel the urge to put it in every chapter these days? So I don't think most people reading say - The Beast that Chose Its Own Bridle - which has lengthy, intense BDSM scenes, would call that a 'porn story' first and foremost, even though it has porn. There's just too much story happening around all the sex, lol.

I don't really think of it as walking on eggshells honestly. I'm just not risking certain stories out of the gate, and they're already safe and fine on AO3 (and Dropbox). And while some of my stories are in a grey area, I'm confident I can articulate why they're valuable and have merit as narratives and/or cut my losses and keep them on AO3.

My shortlist of stories for Wattpad if folks are interested is:

The Wildness Within Stuck on the Puzzle From the Darkness We Rise Into Shadows We Fall The Golden Age that Never Was Spoils of the Spoiled possibly Falling Falling Stars (the length is offputting but I actually think the story could do really well there because it's very consent focused and it has a clear 'sexual assault is bad' message lol) Inmates Passiflora The Beast that Chose Its Own Bridle Underline the Black Mallory & Mount

I won't be putting them all up at once, but chapter by chapter as with any serial. The first two in the list are the first two I'll be starting with and they both just need covers now, they're ready to launch. I'm going with a fanfiction/original fiction mix because I can! :D

Stories that I'm not putting up on Wattpad at all:

The Wind that Cuts the Night (I think the front-heavy violent BDSM in the beginning will be too high risk even if it develops a story later - it's a shame because I think it works really well as an 'original novel' even though it's fanfiction). Game Theory The Court of Five Thrones Strange Sights short stories

Stories I'm on the fence on but will make a decision about based on how the short-list goes, or based on how well I think they can do on their own:

Eversion The Ice Plague anything else, lol.

I'm on the fence about The Ice Plague because it's the end point of the canon, but a lot of people came into Fae Tales through that story and I think handled it pretty well.

Eversion has some outright noncon, and while I think it has a strong 'sexual assault is bad' message, it also has Connor 'gosh I love degradation and humiliation and being told I'm filthy and slutty sir' Perkins in it, and even some AO3 readers struggled to find what Connor consented to, consensual, simply because they struggled to see why anyone would enjoy suffering like that. I have never had a character scream 'this is consensual' more in a story and have so many people be like 'oh god this is so horrible, he hates it so much' lmaoooo. I feel like Wattpad readers are going to be even less forgiving of that than AO3 readers.

Anyway, y'all know my plan now! :D It's going to take aaaaaages because I'll be releasing the chapters over time and I'm only going to have like 1-2 old stories updating at once, so um, it might actually take around 8 years to upload everything?

...*laughs nervously*

But no, no, I've been in fandom for over 20 years anon, I am well and truly over the dark ages of 'lol hmu for a link of the explicit wink wonk banned stuff' or 'haha click this link because this puritanical site won't let us be adults!' AO3 is where it's at. And I think we can all just appreciate that it's truly best to just...be able to post anything fictional + sexually taboo there, and not have to worry about a corporation potentially smacking us in the face for it.

#asks and answers #pia on wattpad #gosh i love AO3 #really my heart is just a constant love-letter to AO3 #yes there's things they can always improve #and work on #and yes sometimes they've disappointed us #BUT #compared to how it was before we are miles and miles ahead #as for Wattpad i'm not so much scared as i am pragmatic about the reality of working within a TOS

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bleaksqueak · 3 years

Text

Restructuring

It has been brought to my attention that my ex-writing partner has written a statement that questions the proper crediting of contributions regarding both the original and coming relaunch of the comic Traversion. I have been accused, both directly and indirectly, of a variety of unprofessional behaviors, which means I now must address a number of things I had hoped would be kept private. What the claim neglected to mention, and in fact misleads the reader gravely upon, is the amount of work left on my shoulders for the greater part of a year while my ex-partner ghosted me to play video games. Any attempt to reconcile their lack of work ethic with their claim to commitment to the project was met with repeated lying and more ghosting, which unfortunately made the partnership increasingly untenable.

Our “joint effort” eventually devolved into me alone contributing 80-90% of the narrative, story, character, design, world-building, structure and 100% of the artwork— all while they played video games. Note that this is not me speculating on their activities at the time; they proudly spoke to me of how they were spending their time. When I could no longer even get them to give me the final scripts and ready the updates— despite my numerous offers to write them myself— I was ignored, or refused, and no fully finalized script would ever be delivered to me before I terminated the relationship. Date-wise, we had mutually agreed scripts would be finalized and locked in by August; I would eventually reach my breaking point in December.

Additionally, their work ethic on non-writing tasks also degraded sharply after launch: updates to the social media accounts were not happening unless I reminded them, and the Webtoons management was left entirely to me on top of everything else. This combined with shouldering the majority of the creative work, constant delays on the insisted-upon transcripts, refusals to give me the final scripts, and social media neglect created an untenable loop of further delays that bled through no matter how hard I worked to keep things running. I knew that, should things continue in this manner, the project would wither away.

Throughout, my ex-partner continued to claim a near total ownership over the entirety of the project. In private they would speak to me of how I did almost all the work, and that they could not "keep up with me creatively", all while publicly proclaiming it to be solely their project— often giving me only an art credit, if any mention whatsoever. This attitude not only disregarded all my other creative contributions, but also the fact that I was covering for nearly every monetary service required to make the project happen. I was, and still am, paying for the server, the domain name, the comment section service, the resources, and the software programs.

All of that, for a project they often scolded me for "caring too much about" and "needing to stop only thinking about and working on", while they gamed. Had they cared as much for the project as they appear to care right now, we likely would have never had the problems that turned ours into an untenable partnership and which resulted in me taking my work and leaving.

The accusation post is also particularly disingenuous in that they were informed, when I dissolved our partnership, that the listed characters belonging solely to them would be removed as a courtesy. Any story roles these characters had previously filled would be replaced. They were also informed that the sole character design from their old project I had based upon material they provided (two reference pieces) would be kept— but the name and background details of said character would be changed. This is as close as you could accurately say I have 'stolen' from them, as this design was kept due to their multiple promises that they were taking the project seriously; and I had made it abundantly clear that I would not be majorly changing any designs once they were featured in the prologue artwork. All but the initial concept art for the final design of said character was based off of a story concept created by me and Elanor Pam. Upon being told about this story concept for a character, my ex-partner exclaimed that this character was "just like their character" and offered the concept art in question allegedly so that I would not have to start from square one on the design.

Furthermore, I informed my ex-partner that the fully custom logo (also made by me and Elanor Pam), along with the already registered domain name and the pre-launch campaign were the reasons for maintaining the project’s name— which is a word found in the dictionary that has been in the English vernacular since the 17th century. Had they been upfront to me when I asked them— and gave them their chances, months before dismissal, to tell me whether they were serious about the work involved in doing a comic— I never would have used the name. Yet they claimed to be totally onboard the project, and promised to work according to our new schedule and its strict deadlines. Thus, come December I was left with folders of designs, concept, fully finished pages and a fully finished logo and a partner who loudly proclaimed to me repeatedly that they did not *want* to do their share of the work.

Despite the name retention— as they had claimed, when it was originally offered by them, that they did not mind passing it on to an entirely new project— this project is entirely separate from their previous, unfinished “Traversion” project. Most of the concepts listed within their claim of ownership that are truly, 100% theirs (government, monetary system, transcriptions, the morpheme system) will not be used, and any concepts that may have required touching upon these aspects to service the narrative have already been extensively reworked.

All other items listed in their accusation to which they have retroactively claimed full ownership were in reality either built by myself (the majority of creature taxonomy— I dictated while they wrote down) or were true joint efforts, (the prologue, magic and magic design, and geography).

At the end of the day, I left their credit on the website in order to reflect the work they did do. I strongly believe in retaining attribution of efforts despite any negative personal feelings, be they due to creative differences or work ethics. They have been properly credited for their actual efforts— as a project that is as much hard work as a comic cannot be built by simply hoping your partner will meekly do most everything for you and remain quiet while you play games.

I did not wish for things to come to this, but I did set my conditions to them in private— after enduring a year of our working relationship slowly degrading into so much gaslighting that I was made to feel worthless even as I did most of the work on a project they now claim to have been so precious to them. I took my work and left, and I look forward to sharing it with you. I wish my ex-partner as well good fortune going forward.

#text post #going forward

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reinvent-and-believe · 4 years

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OH HO HO PROMPTS! how about geraskier + 35 (OR, if you'd like some options: 5 or 59) 😊

Ahhhhhhhh I mean if you insist 😄

(I really really like 59 and still might write that at some point, but 5 is what I ended up going with. Also I feel like you should know I started to write something super angsty, you know, something in my wheelhouse, but then I decided I couldn’t do that to my Fluff Friend™️ so instead, here, have something only kind of angsty and kind of Soft)

5) things you didn’t say at all

Jaskier has so many words.

They’re constant, relentless, ceaseless. A bombardment of words. An onslaught of words. A veritable barrage of words.

(Jaskier would appreciate the grandeur of these words, if Geralt shared his thoughts aloud. Bombardment, onslaught, barrage. Descriptive words. Poetic words. The sort of words the bard uses to transform the most banal contract into a thrilling adventure. They’re not words Geralt would have thought to use before Jaskier.)

He has words for the breathtaking beauty of the setting sun lighting a field of flowers they pass by, words for the awe-inspiring majesty of an archgriffin soaring through the sky (the cerulean sky, apparently) above them, words for the putrescent stench of a nearby rotfiend nest. He has words to make the shyest, most awkward village girl gleam beautifully under his doting attention, words to assuage the traumatized, stuttering child who witnessed a gruesome alghoul attack, words to charm the stingiest of men into coughing up the promised coin after Geralt completes a contract.

On a clear night a few weeks past the autumnal equinox, Jaskier has words for the grumbling innkeeper who protests that they “don’t serve your kind” when Geralt tries to procure a room. Furious, colorful words that surprise Geralt, even as he maneuvers his screaming companion out of the small country inn and into the still autumn night.

He lets him continue his ravings as they trek down the road, assuming that he’ll surely run out of steam soon. Geralt scans the terrain for a good place to set up camp, only half-listening to the diatribe that seems to be gaining momentum rather than reaching some denouement (Jaskier loves to talk about the denouement. He’d delivered a lengthy lecture on narrative structure to Geralt last month that seemed to last nearly the entire trek from Ellander to Vizima). Geralt picks a spot with some natural cover, far enough from the road to protect them from roving bandits, and begins removing Roach’s tack.

“—the utter churlish ingratitude of it all astounds me, truly, I’d love to see our dear Master We-Don’t-Serve-Your-Kind handle it himself next time a wraith starts to slaughter any who try to use the well after sundown!”

Jaskier is forced by physical necessity to take a breath, and Geralt seizes his opportunity to set the conversation to rest. “It doesn’t matter.”

Silence had been the goal, but he knows Jaskier well enough to know this isn’t the blissful quietude of the bard dropping it. He sighs and turns toward Jaskier, who is staring at him, mouth agape, with an expression stuck between disbelief and fury. “I’m sorry,” the boy says finally, fixing Geralt with a glare, “did you just say it doesn’t matter?”

And Jaskier is young, young and full of youthful pride, youthful expectations; more than that, he’s not a witcher. He’s travelled with Geralt on and off for the past two years, and while he’s seen traces, the witcher has tried to shield him from the brunt of these everyday indignities he’s met with. Jaskier hadn’t been in Blaviken, hadn’t witnessed decades of casual and humiliating and hateful and snarling dismissals that have hardened Geralt, changed Geralt, numbed Geralt. “It doesn’t matter,” he repeats. He stops his preparations for their camp and looks Jaskier in the eye. If the boy’s set on traveling with him, it’s best he understands. “Wraith’s dead. The alderman paid what we agreed, didn’t complain about the price or try to shortchange me. It was a success. The rest doesn’t matter.”

There’s a look Geralt can’t quite parse brewing on Jaskier’s face as the witcher speaks, seeming to vacillate wildly between frustrated and wrathful and agonized and so many other feelings, too many for Geralt to track, too complex to analyze from the muddled, conflicting scent. They’re close, he realizes suddenly, and he isn’t sure when that happened but they’re close and he can taste the confused feelings in the air between them, the metallic panic and the acrid fury and the brackish tears that haven’t fallen but threaten to, building in spite of the bard’s best efforts. “It matters,” Jaskier insists, a broken hitch in his voice, and then he’s kissing Geralt.

And maybe Geralt shouldn’t be surprised, but he is, somehow. He’s noticed the lust, of course. It had been there at their first meeting, the sharp, earthy scent, strong but not unpleasant. It had been almost flattering, though not nearly so flattering as it was overwhelming; but then it had spiked again nearly as intensely when Filavandrel entered the cave as they sat bound together, beaten and bruised, then later that night when a barmaid’s fingers brushed his as she handed him his ale, a coy smile and the slightest tilt of the head to indicate Jaskier should follow her to the shadowed cellar. He’d followed her and come back, smelling of sex and sporting a dopey grin, singing the praises of women with the exhilarated bravado of an eighteen-year-old would-be libertine—women, Geralt, women, of all the gods’ creations upon this good earth can any compare to a woman? And that had been that.

But Jaskier is kissing him, a hard, frantic thing, his palm warm against Geralt’s jaw, the salt in the air growing thicker, not at all what Geralt would have imagined kissing Jaskier to be like (has imagined kissing Jaskier to be like, in the dead of night, sometimes, as the last embers of a campfire glow on soft pale skin, or at the look of absolute peace as he closes his eyes and breathes in the cool twilight air, or when the first rays of dawn flicker in his sleep-rumpled mess of tawny hair).

But Jaskier is distressed.

The bard pulls away with a sharp inhale, and the scents and tastes and expressions keep shifting erratically, and Geralt tries to keep track but can’t. It’s silent for a minute but for Jaskier’s uneven breaths and the gentle sounds of the forest. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, not looking at Geralt, and it’s the copper tang of fear now, something he’s never smelled once before on Jaskier, on this brave idiot who’s seen no end of havoc and slaughter at the hands of monsters and men since joining the witcher’s company and yet never smelled like fear in his presence before.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier repeats, and when he meets the witcher’s gaze there’s a flash of defiance there, now, “I shouldn’t have done that and if you no longer wish to travel with me I understand, I do, but it does matter, Geralt. It matters that that repugnant, contemptible prick thought he could throw you out like a mangy dog after you saved his pathetic life, all their pathetic lives. It matters that not a one of the other patrons offered a word in your defense. It matters that the songs aren’t enough, they aren’t doing enough, and it matters that this sort of abuse must be so very commonplace that you are, apparently, utterly unperturbed by the entire affair!”

Jaskier’s wrong, he knows that. It doesn’t matter how one small man treats a witcher. The Path is long and hard, and if scornful innkeepers and a night under the stars instead of a roof are the worst Geralt has to face then he is luckier than most. He’s no knight errant, no hero, no matter how gallant and romantic and chivalrous Jaskier insists he is in his ballads.

It doesn’t matter.

And yet.

Jaskier takes a shaky breath. He’s been staring, Geralt realizes belatedly, waiting for some sort of response, and now he seems to have taken silence as answer enough. “Right,” the bard says, nodding, swallowing, rubbing at his eyes wearily. “Suppose that’s my cue to make myself scarce, then.”

His chin trembles with the harsh set of his jaw, and Geralt can’t help reaching out, cupping his face gently with a strong, square hand, his sword-callused thumb rubbing soothingly over a smooth, pale cheek. He pulls Jaskier into a slow, tentative embrace, feeling the boy’s tension melt away in his arms, the copper tang dissolving into something sweet and familiar, something hopeful, something that smells like home.

Geralt tries to find the words. A rude backwoods innkeep doesn’t mean shit to him, but Jaskier jumping to his defense without the slightest hesitation does. Jaskier writing songs about him, about his selflessness, about his goodness—no matter how inaccurate, no matter how exaggerated—does. Jaskier looking at him like he’s something precious, something valuable, something worthy, does. Jaskier kissing him matters—certainly matters, and is certainly something Geralt is interested in investigating further—but Jaskier choosing to be with him, indignant and furious on his behalf, making his bed on the lumpy forest floor when he could have easily rented a room in that inn—matters even more.

Geralt doesn’t know how to say these things; the words sound trite and inadequate as he turns them about in his mind. But as he holds him close, their breath becoming one as they rock gently beneath the evening’s first stars, he thinks perhaps Jaskier understands nonetheless.

And if not, perhaps he’ll find the words tomorrow.

#norationalthoughtrequired #my fic #asks #thanks pal hope you like it!!! <3 #geraskier #the witcher

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marvelousimagines · 4 years

Text

I Wish I Never

Lena Luthor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,003

Summary:

Warnings: Angst

Note: I hope this is what you were looking for.

You close your eyes against the incessant pounding of your head. Trying to abate the oncoming migraine before it began. You know that you should just call her but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel that heart break again. Even if it meant that you would feel better in the long run. You know that you should at least talk to someone, but every time you tried you retreated back into yourself.

No one would be able to understand what happened. Not without someone being the bad guy and you refused to have her be the villain in this. Not when she was the villain in so many other narratives already.

Though that didn’t stop your heart from breaking every time you remembered the green of her eyes. The almost childlike innocence that had appeared in those emerald orbs when you offered for her to spend the night. You had been working on a new proposal for her company and hadn’t even noticed the hours slip by; until it was almost midnight. She had been adamant that it was okay and that she could just call her driver, but you had refused. You didn’t want her going out at night when she was clearly tired, but you know that she would never care about her own personal welfare. So you had gone with the driver’s.

You remember the moment she caved because she didn’t want to make the man get out of bed so late.

You still remember the triumph that you had felt worm its way into your chest at the sight.

You only wish that feeling could have lasted.

I know that I'm better off on my own

I wish I never let you sleep in my room

Been thinking 'bout a way that I could take back

The night I lost myself in you

You know that your guest bedroom’s bed wasn’t the most comfortable so you had offered her yours. Knowing just how much she had worked that day, and not wanting her to sleep on something that could keep her up all night. She had refused, of course, because she was Lena Luthor, and she wouldn’t be a Luthor if she wasn’t stubborn. (Really the only thing that she had in common with that namesake.)

You had made a compromise instead. You would share the bed, which shouldn’t be that awkward because she was one of your best friends even if she was your boss. So, slipping underneath the covers, you turned off the lights and got ready to fall asleep. Very much aware of the warm body that was laying next to you. The warm puffs of air that were hitting the side of your neck, because Lena had shifted closer to you. Wanting to conserve body heat in the middle of National City’s winter.

You wish that it didn’t affect you that way that it had. Maybe none of this would have happened if it hadn’t.

You know that everytime I hear your name I replay

Your fingertips against my frame and lose faith

Been praying for a way that I could feel saved

But I'll never get over you

Wish that I had never let you love me although you said you never did

Closing your eyes you try to forget the feeling of Lena’s hands on your body. You try to forget the feeling of her lips working their way down. You try to forget the love and warmth you had felt in her embrace.

You try to forget the pain that followed in the morning. Even though you know it was impossible because one does not simply forget Lena Luthor. You know that you will always remember the sight of her retreating into herself. Her walls coming back up and scathing words leaving her lips.

“It was a fun time and that was it. Why do you have to make it so complicated? We shared a bed and a few good hours together, nothing more. All right?”

You remember the numbness that had spread through your body at those words. Only allowing yourself to nod before retreating back into your room. Closing the door and ignoring the sight of the normally neat and orderly bed in a state of disarray. Because, if it meant nothing to her why should it mean anything to you?

The answer to that question was simple. It meant everything to you because you love her.

I wish you would've slept in the guest room

'Cause maybe I'd still feel alive without you

I'm pretty sure that all of this was my fault

I'm the one who kissed you first and took my clothes off

You know how to make me feel all alone

Ever since that day you had done your best to avoid her. Desperately wanting things to return to the way they were, but you know that they never would. There was nothing you could that would change what happened. Not that you would change anything in the first place. Because, at least, you got Lena in some way, and even though you weren’t able to keep her you were still able to have her.

Which probably made everything worse in the long run, because you just couldn’t let her go. No matter how much your brain pleaded with your heart. It was like a dog with its favorite toy, refusing to give it up for even a moment. With each beat of your it you’re constantly reminded of what you gained that night.

And everything that you lost.

Pressing your head against the pane of glass in front of you, you try to ignore everything. Your brow crinkling with the effort of the act, but you know it would be for naught. Everything reminded you of her. Your apartment was riddled with the memories of her. The phantom of her presence haunting every inch of the place.

And it’s not like I can go outside to forget all my troubles either, you think bitterly as you stare out across the expanse of National City. She’s tainted everything.

Every safe place that you used to have would remind you of her presence, and the subsequent heartbreak she had thrust upon you. You were truly all alone in a city of millions. A feat that only Lena Luthor could have ever accomplished.

But when I'm underneath your teeth it feels just like home

You said that we shouldn't make love and just fucking

Find another way to heal

You know you drain me of myself 'til I can't see straight

Been thinking 'bout your body in the worst way

Wish that I could remove you from my veins

'Cause I'm sick of feeling so betrayed

You know that the healthy thing to do would be to forget about her. To stop moping about your apartment and actually do something productive, but every time you tried something withered in you even more. It was like your body didn’t want to get rid of Lena and the memories you shared.

Every time you started to move on your mind started replaying memories of past events. When you were about to throw away the coffee maker Lena had given you. Your brain provided you the image of her large smile as she presented it to you. Her emerald green eyes shining with excitement that she was able to get something for you. The first of many gifts that now littered your apartment, and only served to worsen your heart ache.

When you were about to take down the many pictures that hung on your walls. Your brain reminded you of the happy moments that had happened to create such beautiful images. The happy memory of the picnic you both had shared in the park. Lena wrapping herself in her coat trying not to show you how cold she actually was. The short laugh you had given as you pulled her into your side. Your words were filled with genuine exasperation and affection. “You Luthor’s truly are stubborn aren’t you?” The glare Lena had sent towards, no heat actually behind it, and feeling of warmth you had felt when she only snuggled further into your side.

Yes, your mind liked to play tricks with you. One moment it was trying to convince you to get rid of Lena, and everything that you had shared, but the next, when you were actually doing, it desperately clung on to her memory. Maybe it wasn’t ready to give her up either. Wasn’t able to give up the memories that you both had made, and the happiness that had always been a constant. Just like your heart wasn’t willing to give up the love you had started to feel for her. Love that was never given the chance to grow.

Sighing, you drop your head into your hands. Rubbing your temples in agitation at your inaction. It was driving you mad that you couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t go outside because everything reminded you of Lena. You couldn’t go into your bedroom for longer than a few minutes because that reminded you of Lena. You couldn’t sit still in your apartment because everything within it reminded you of Lena. No matter how hard you tried nothing you could ever do would make you forget her.

Lena Luthor was in your veins and there was nothing you could do to get her out. Every time your heartbeat it was with the song of her laugh. Causing your entire body to thrum with life, because Lena was everything you could ever want.

It wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t want you in return.

And I thought I'd mean something to you

More than skin to put your skin on

And I thought I'd mean something to you

Hearing a sudden rapping on your day causes your body to stiffen. Your eyes staring at the door with something akin to suspicion. You were half convinced it was either Kara or Alex coming to check on you, but you quickly rule them out. Kara would have announced her presence all ready, and Alex would have just waltzed in like she owned the place. Then who could it be?

You don’t think any of your other friends would have noticed your sudden lack in social interaction. After all you had done it countless times before when you were working on a project. The only exceptions being the Danver sisters, because they were freakishly perceptive when they wanted to be.

Another set of knocking rouses you from your thoughts and, not wanting to keep whoever’s on the other side waiting, you stand. Making your way to the door you try to think of anyone it could possibly be. Maybe Winn?

However, when you open the door your eyes widen at the person you see. Your back stiffening and your arm tensing on the doorknob. Lena Luthor in all of her glory stood before you. Out of its usual updo her hair spills across her shoulders. The raven locks shining underneath the hallway lights of your building. Though none of that truly surprises you, not even the fact that Lena was in casual wear. Having become fairly familiarized with her in such attire.

What does surprise you, and causes you to pause, were her eyes. Eyes that you could let yourself drown in if you were allowed to. Eyes that were normally so stoic with a hint of adoration and mischief, were now completely open. All of the emotions that would have previously been hidden were laid bare for you to see. In a beautiful display of heat break and agony, all standing out against the green of her eyes. The beautiful emerald color standing out against the red rim surrounding them.

Finally, after a moment, you clear your throat to speak. “Lena? What are you doing here?” You don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does, and you wince slightly at it. Though it had no comparison when in regards to Lena’s reaction. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Lena Luthor look so defeated before.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see,” a short scoff interrupts her words. Her eyes flashing with annoyance, but you know that it wasn’t directed at you. “No. I know I’m the last person you want to see, but you’re the first for me. And I need to apologize to you. I need to make things right between us.”

Shifting slightly you aren’t sure exactly what to do. You know what your heart wanted you to do, but it wasn’t that simple. You couldn’t just bring Lena into your arms and forgive her. She had hurt you more than anyone ever has, but that also doesn’t mean you would leave her out on your threshold. So you square your shoulders and step to the side, permeating the CEO entrance.

You watch silently as Lena moves through your apartment. The door closes softly behind her, but you stay next to it. Keeping the distance between the both of you. You know that if you get any closer you’ll fold faster than Kara does when you’re playing poker.

Lena, noticing the distance between your bodies, moves closer to you. Not stopping until she’s standing in front of you. Until she’s practically touching you, and you have to fight every urge in your body from reaching for her hand.

“What do you have to say, Lena?” you ask, trying to keep your voice unaffected. She didn’t need to know how much power she still held over you. Her being this close was already painful enough.

“Oh, darling, I have so much to say but I will never be able to say it all in this lifetime,” she responds, a brief smile flashing across her face. Before her face becomes serious again, and you automatically miss the smile. It had been so long since you had seen it. “But one of the most important things I have to tell you is how sorry I am. The way I treated you after our night together is inexcusable, and I don’t think I will ever forgive myself for it. I have never felt more like a villain than when you turned away from me. I have never felt more like a Luthor than when I let you walk away from me. I pushed you away because I thought that was best. I thought you would be better without me, because of my name and everything that it brings. But I forgot one innate thing that every Luthor shares.” There Lena pauses to catch her breath. Her eyes search your face as she does, but you can’t do anything but stare. Trying to process her words as best as you can. Taking your silence as your confirmation that you were still listening she begins to speak once more. Her words came out almost cynical. “Luthor’s are selfish beings, and I will be the first to admit that what I’m doing is selfish. I tried to do the honorable thing and let you go, but I can’t. I can’t let the one person who looks at me like I’m there whole world slip away. I can’t, and I won’t, let you go, and if that makes me selfish? Well then I don’t want to be anything else.”

You were pretty sure your brain wasn’t working anymore, and that you were about to have a heart attack. “What was the other thing?” Lena’s confused look at your question prompts you to keep speaking. “You said that saying sorry was one of the things you came here to tell me. What is the other?”

You aren’t sure what you’re expecting but Lena stepping forward and taking your hands certainly wasn’t it. Her soft gaze leveled onto your own, and you feel like you can’t breathe. Not when she was looking at you like you were the most important thing in the world. You watch, with bated breath, as Lena seems to prepare herself for what she’s about to say. But, after a moment, her smile grows into a breathtaking grin. Her eyes shimmering in the light because of her happiness. “Something that I should have told you long ago, but I was never brave enough to. I’m so sorry these are the circumstances in which I’m telling you this, darling, but I do not regret saying these words,” she says, her voice unwavering with its conviction. “I love you. More than I have ever loved anything.”

You didn’t know what you were doing but soon your lips were on hers, and it was so much different than the last time you had kissed. This time it wasn’t hurried nor was it with a frenzied passion. It was slow and it was the feeling of coming after a hard journey back. It was reacquainting two beings that were never supposed to be apart to begin with.

It was everything and more you could have ever hoped for, and you weren’t surprised that Lena Luthor was the one to give it to you.

I'm pretty sure that all of this was my fault

I'm the one who kissed you first and took my clothes off

Yes, it may have been your fault that all the heartbreak had begun. Maybe, not necessarily for it to have continued in the first place, but your decision definitely did have a part in the entire thing. If you hadn’t offered Lena your bed you weren’t sure you would be currently sharing hers. If you hadn’t kissed her first you weren’t sure her lips would be on yours ever again. If you had let her sleep in the guest room you weren’t sure you would have the love of your life in your arms.

So, yes, it may have been your fault, but you are more than happy to take the blame. After all you were the one that kissed her first.

So it’s only fair.

#lena luthor x reader #lena x reader #lena luthor #supergirl #guest room #dc imagines

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fortunatelylori · 5 years

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GOT: The exhausting march towards the dramatic TWIST

I think I’m going to shock people with this statement but ... out of all the season 8 episodes we’ve seen so far, episode 4 is by far my favorite.

Now don’t get too excited by the seemingly warm tone ... what I mean by favorite is that I hated it less than episode 1 through 3, which is about as high a praise as I’m likely going to have for this debacle that is season 8.

General impressions:

There are two reasons why I felt this episode was better than the last 3:

1. It was more focused, with 3 clear storylines: D*ny’s war for the crown (story A), Jon’s and his family continuing to be dead inside (story B), Jaime’s return to his sister-lover (story C). This kind of focus and definite structure should be a given. However GOT decided to go all yolo on our asses this season and as we’ve already covered in my other reviews, it’s gotten to the point where I’m genuinely shocked to see an episode that doesn’t jump from plot point to plot point like an enraged orangutan on ecstasy.

2. It was centered around this woman:

Look at that face... Holy Shit! She’s going to give me nightmares!

Now, normally an episodes focused on D*ny would be bad news for me because I don’t particularly care for her, as half of my list of metas can conclusively prove.

However, since she’s the only character whose POV isn’t hidden and her scenes aren’t cut short or drained of any and all possibility of actual human emotion, she’s become the only character that I can watch without feeling frustrated, confused or on the verge of an anxiety attack. I actually like to know what the hell is happening on screen and what the character wants in any given scene. Call it a pet peeve of mine.

Although even D*ny, as well rounded a character as she is, suffers from the Ds oscillating trend this season. Last episode, D*ny stood her ground against the NK, committed herself and her armies to the defense of the realm and saved Jon’s life. This episode, she’s back in full Mad King’s daughter mode, with a pinch of Viserys on the side.

But that’s a quibble, honestly and you can always argue that Jorah’s death really pushed D*ny into a dark place in which the crown of Westeros and her war against Cersei becomes more important than her own humanity.

However, what isn’t a quibble is that death seems to have become a shorthand device the Ds employ to signal D*ny’s eventual rise as Queen of the Ashes. She loses Jorah in episode 3 and by the end of episode 4, she loses both Rhaegal and Missandei as well, leaving her in a seeming cliffhanger over whether or not to put the Red Keep to the torch as revenge.

The problem is that D*ny had been chopping at the bit to burn down King’s Landing since season 7 when she had to be talked out of doing just that TWICE. This episode Tyrion once again has to put the breaks on D*ny’s fiery fantasies.

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This scene right here is a treasure trove of Mad D*ny clues. But let’s focus on two of them. Firstly, the impetuous to burn KL is stil there:

D*ny: We will hit her hard. We will rip her out root and stem.

Tyrion: The objective here is to remove Cersei without destroying King’s Landing.

That is not a happy face ...

As D*ny put’s it, they need the capital because otherwise Cersei can continue calling herself the queen of the 7 kingdoms.

That’s D*ny’s priority, folks: the acquiring of that stupid title.

And if she has to march her weakened army, her sick dragon/child for thousands of miles and burn thousands of innocent people to get that title, she’ll do it.

Considering this set-up, why exactly did we need Missandei and Rahegal to die? One day into Tyrion’s proposed blockade and D*ny would be roasting giant marshmallows in the Red Keep gardens.

In my opinion, the reasons for killing Rhaegal and Missandei are not tied to the dark!dany arc at all. Instead, Rhaegal gets killed because they want to make the D*ny/Cersei conflict as even as possible so they’re eliminating one of D*ny’s weapons of mass destruction.

And Missandei ... poor Missandei gets killed in order to shock the audience. There is absolutely no reason to kill her in this way ... If she was to die, the time for that would have been in episode 3. They have to actually push the suspension of disbelief in order to convince the audience that somehow Euron got a hold of this girl from an armada of wrecked ships, instantly knew how important she was, dragged her back to the Red Keep and then brought her up on that wall expecting .... what??!

Euron and Cersei are far too smart to believe D*ny will give up her war for Missandei so why kill her so publicly? To intimidate D*ny? They didn’t need Missandei for that. They could have just as well beheaded all of the hostages they took from the ships.

They kill Missandei because that’s the easiest way for the Ds to surprise the audience and for them to garner some sort of sympathy for D*ny when she eventually does end up going all Pablo Escobar on a city filled with a million people.

The other glaring Mad D*ny moment in the scene and one that plays straight into political Jon, is this:

Sansa: The men we have left are exhausted. Many of them are wounded. They will fight better if they have time to rest and recuperate.

D*ny: How long do you suggest?

Sansa: Can’t say for certain. Not without talking to the officers.

D*ny: I came North to fight alongside you. At great cost to my armies and myself. And now that the time has come to reciprocate, you want to postpone?

Jon: The Northern forces will honor their promises and their allegiance to the queen of the 7 kingdoms. What you command, we will obey.

I’ve seen a lot of people being angry at Jon for “taking D*ny’s side” in this conflict but in order to understand how this plays into political Jon, there are 2 things you need to keep in mind:

The first is exactly when Sansa intervenes in the conversation. She steps in directly after both Tyrion and Jon manage to convince D*ny not to burn down King’s Landing. D*ny reluctantly agrees to the blockade because that would mean having to wait to take the crown and as she puts it:

D*ny: The longer I leave my enemies alone, the stronger they become.

Now Sansa wants to delay her even further. This is not acceptable to D*ny.

In addition to that, I don’t think Sansa appreciates just how dangerous and volatile D*ny is. She doesn’t know about the men being fed to dragons, or the 163 crucified masters or how close she was to jumping on a dragon and burning down KL in the past.

Jon, however, does understand D*ny quite well by this point. I don’t buy his speech as him agreeing with D*ny at all in this scene and considering this is the face he puts on to silence Sansa:

I’d say this is a guy desperately trying to keep a bomb from exploding directly in the face of someone he cares very deeply about.

Narratively, I believe this is supported by the Sansa/Tyrion scene later on when Sansa is surprised to realize that Tyrion is actually afraid of D*ny. She simply hadn’t considered that people are scared of what D*ny might do.

As interesting as D*ny’s descent into madness is (despite Missandei’s useless death), it’s counterbalanced by the shit show that continues to be Jon Snow.

Watching Jon’s arc this season, and by extension all the Starks, is like banging your head against a concrete wall over and over again, without making a dent. It’s pointless, exhausting and painful.

At this point I don’t care if he’s in love with D*ny or Sansa, if he’s pol!Jon or idiot!Jon, if he wants to be king or fuck off beyond the wall. I genuinely don’t care anymore. What I do care about is being given access to Jon’s story enough to figure out what the hell he wants and what he’s doing.

It’s one thing to keep a character’s POV hidden for an episode but we’re going on almost 2 seasons now. And Jon isn’t a secondary character like Littlefinger where you can get away with hiding the POV because he’s not as big a part of the plot as a main character is.

But Jon is a main character and this effort to keep him enigmatic and mysterious isn’t only wreaking havoc on his arc but it’s also affecting the rest of the Stark family. Case and point:

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In case anyone is keeping score, this is actually the first and only scene all the Starks have together in 4 episodes, amounting to 5 hours of footage.

And just look where they decide to end this scene! Right when we’re going to see Arya and Sansa react to the parentage reveal and see what they and Jon discuss next. They gave us the mere bones of this scene and left us without the meat.

The important part of the scene, the emotional underbelly, the opportunity to see these people come together and support and embrace Jon as the Stark they still think he is, is taken away from us. Because that would chip away at the mystery surrounding Jon’s arc this season.

I’d argue depriving Jon and the Starks of the emotional bond they share is way too steep a price to pay for what is essentially a cheap thirll that becomes cheaper and cheaper by the minute considering they’re delaying whatever reveal they’re planning on making past the point of me giving a shit!

This episode did, however, give me the perfect visual way of describing Jon’s storyline right now. Jon is basically stuck between:

and

and he chooses neither.

He sends Ghost away (without patting him because having KH and the wolf in the same frame would be too costly for the overly expensive GOT) and refuses to ride Rhaegal because ... reasons.

So instead of seeing him choose between being a direwolf and a dragon, we’re seeing him do nothing, while looking overly enigmatically blank for 5 hours straight. I just .... I’m sooooo tired of this. Can this be over now?

PS: I’d discuss Jaime’s storyline this episode but I don’t want to say: I told you so ... Well ... ok, if you insist:

a little sour milk dribble on Tormund’s beard and a silly giant story isn’t going to make me forget that Jaime has arrived in Winterfell on the coat tails of a 20+ year toxic relationship with a woman who is not only his twin sister but is also currently pregnant with his baby.

Also:

Jaime: She (Cersei) has always been good at using the truth to tell lies. Don’t be too hard on yourself. She’s fooled me more than anybody.

Tyrion: She never fooled you. You always knew exactly what she was. And you loved her anyway.

Yeah … Imagine entering a relationship with a guy exiting THAT. Dealing with sour milk beard is mild by comparison.

(source)

Favorite scenes

The “If you love me, you’ll erase yourself” scene:

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There is something so deeply disturbing about this scene that I can’t help but be fascinated by it. The J0nereys relationship has always been toxic and this scene right here encapsulates just why:

In order to be with D*ny, Jon needs to give up everything that makes him who he is. In season 7, he was forced to bend the knee and suffer the ire of the entire North for it. Now D*ny is asking him not only to give up his claim but also lie about who he is and separate himself from his family in order to make sure that D*ny gets to be queen.

No one, not one person in this world, no matter how beautiful, rich, good in bed or seemingly in love with you, is worth you giving up who you are and removing yourself from your family (provided said family is not toxic, of course). And anyone that would ask you to do that, should be dumped on their asses pronto.

Jon can’t do that, unfortunately. Because he’s brought D*ny here to fight “his war” and pretended to be in love with her. And also because D*ny simply isn’t rational anymore. So he’s stuck apologizing for people liking him (just think about that!) and having to put up with her saying things like:

D*ny: It doesn’t matter what you want! You didn’t want to be king in the North! What happens when they demand you press your claim and TAKE WHAT IS MINE?

Except the crown isn’t D*ny’s. It never was. Logistically speaking, the crown belongs to Cersei right now. Legitimately, the crown is Jon’s. It’s D*ny that is actually taking what is his, not the other way around. Imagine making someone apologize for you doing that to them. That’s all kinds of messed up.

Speaking of which:

Jon: You are my queen! I don’t know what else I can say!

D*ny: You can say nothing! To anyone! Ever! Never tell them who you really are. Swear your brother and Samwell Tarly to secrecy and tell no one else!

You know what she sounds like? Like Tangled’s Mother Gothel convincing Rapunzel that she’s better off being her prisoner.

Yikes! She’s genuinely terrifying!

Also:

D*ny: Sansa will want to see me gone and you on the Iron Throne.

Jon: She won’t.

D*ny: She’s not the girl you grew up with. Not after what she’s seen. Not after what they’ve done to her.

2 things:

1. I hope every D*ny stan in the universe either denounces D*ny for victim blaming or closes their mouths about feminism, misogyny and pitting women against women for the rest of time. If you support this woman and consider her a positive role model, you are not allowed to discuss these subjects in public ever again.

2. Can you really blame Jon for taking D*ny’s side against Sansa in the council meeting? He already knows just what D*ny thinks of Sansa and what she’d like to do to her if she is given the opportunity. Hurting Sansa’s feelings is preferable to her losing her life.

The “This better not be unrequited love, Ds!” scene:

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This face right here ... this face:

It’s heartbreaking. And what really angers me about this scene is that it could have been all the more meaningful had the parentage reveal been played in full. Actually seeing Sansa reacting, hearing Jon’s fears or his anguish, would make her fighting for his crown when he refuses to do so even more powerful and romantically charged.

Still, this scene comes in direct contrast to the Jon/D*ny scene. While D*ny wants to force Jon to live a lie for the rest of his life, to humble himself and make himself small so she can have all the power and the love of the people, Sansa not only shoots down the possibility of her being the only one in charge of the North and holding steadfast to the idea that Jon will stay in Winterfell. She goes as far as tell Tyrion Jon is the rightful heir when she realizes that despite his supposed loyalty to D*ny, Tyrion is actually afraid of her.

She sees an opening to ensure Jon’s freedom and she takes it without hesitation.

If, at the end of all of this, Jon ends up going beyond the wall instead of staying with a woman who loves and values him this much, then Westeros truly is a cruel and horrible place and I’ll be sorry I invested so many years of my life to it.

Episode MVPs

Euron “Best General in fucking Westeros” Greyjoy:

Euron gets to be MVP this episode because in one fell swoop he destroyed D*ny’s fleet and brought down one of her dragons. What can I say ... Competency really turns me on.

Too bad Cersei doesn’t love him. If these two actually cared about each other, they could be the McBeths of Westeros. Nothing could stand in their way!

Lord “What an Icon!” Varys:

What can one say about this glorious man? He is MVP for the second time in 4 reviews and somehow I think he’s not done yet.

Varys and Tyrion got down to some realpolitick this episode. But Varys had some truly outstanding lines, like:

Varys: How many others know?

Tyrion: Including us? Eight.

Varys: Well, then it’s not a secret anymore. It’s information. If a handful of people know now, hundreds will know soon.

It’s so rare to find a man that understands gossip so well!

Varys: I’ve served tyrants all my life. They all talk about destiny.

As a person born under a communist regime, I concur, Varys.

And my personal favorite:

Varys: You know where my loyalty stands. You know I will never betray the realm.

Tyrion: What is the realm? A vast continent, home to millions of people, most of whom don’t care who sits on the Iron Throne.

Varys: Millions of people, many of whom will die if the wrong person sits on that throne. We don’t know their names but they’re just as real as you and I. They deserve to live. They deserve food for their children. I will act in their interests, no matter the personal cost.

If this show doesn’t end with a 7 foot, cockless statue of Varys presiding over the whole of Westeros as the ICON that he is, what was even the point?!?!?

#got8 #got8 spoilers #got 8x04 #got8 review #sansa stark #jon snow #dark!dany #lord varys #jonsa #euron greyjoy #braime

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

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RWBY: The Horcrux Theory

Yesterday when I answered the lovely @leonhaxor‘s ask, I was surprised by the number of people who said they hadn’t heard about this theory before; people like me who are invested in the characterization of Volume Six and presumably would have come across it. I figure then that I either saw this theory on another blog and it didn’t spread in the way I assumed it would, or I thought of it myself, forgot it, and upon remembering it assumed I’d seen it elsewhere. Considering both of these things have happened to me in the past more than once (woo shit memory!), your guess is as good as mine. The important thing is the theory is here now and I’d like to take the time to lay it out in a more organized---and hopefully more persuasive*---manner.

(*As a bit of a disclaimer, I’m really just working with what I perceive as a valid interpretation of the text, not a theory in the sense that I expect Rooster Teeth to implement it in Volume Seven. If that were the case, I’d have expected our finale to paint Ruby and the rest as less heroic/justified in their actions, instead emphasizing how OOC they are, thereby setting up a situation wherein they would eventually question why their outlook and behavior has changed so drastically. But we didn’t get that. So this is less, “Sincere expectations for Volume Seven!” and more “Based on what Volume Six gives us, this is a plot twist that could work for these reasons...”)

Let’s start with the title. For anyone who may not know, a horcrux is a magical object within the Harry Potter universe that houses a piece of someone’s soul, a way of ensuring that they live on even if their body is killed. Within the plot, Voldemort (our primary antagonist) creates multiple horcruxes, one of which is carried by our heroes over a long journey. The object’s dark nature as well as its limited ability to think for itself results in a dramatic change in the group over time. They become moodier, more prone to fighting, and one character in particular, Ron, succumbs to a number of doubts and fears he’s been carrying since we met him at the start of the series. Thanks to the horcrux’s influence, he ends up acting in ways he otherwise never would have, including saying things he does not mean (“Your parents are dead. You have no family!”) and settling on courses of actions he later regrets (abandoning the group).

We can see some similarities then between the two situations, both in the Relic’s potential influence on those who carry it---to the point where, the longer they hold onto it, the more likely they are to act in ways contrary to their nature---and in the concept of a magical object being able to think for itself. Obviously Jinn is far more of a person than a sliver of a soul is, but the point is each has a certain amount of agency. As leonhaxor points out in response to my original post, there are also numerous similarities between this potential setup and the ring from Lord of the Rings. There we have another powerful, semi-sentient magical object carried by our heroes over a long journey, slowly corrupting them overtime. I think the variety of source material here is worth noting. Meaning, it doesn’t matter which comparison between stories is “best,” but rather that such comparisons are common. The Corruptible Object is an established motif in fantasy storytelling and RWBY is a web series that is highly invested in re-creating standard setups (such as fairy tales) and then attempting to subvert/complicate them. It makes a great deal of sense then that they would use a trope seen in two of the most popular fantasy series ever created, and then work to update it: the Relic is not a simplistic, pure evil thing like the ring or a horcrux is. It functions in similar ways, but---like most else in RWBY post-Volume Three---has a more complex morality attached to it. Jinn seems kindly at times, the Relic was created by the God of Light, etc. Form then, our expectations for how Rooster Teeth pulls from popular storytelling and incorporates those elements into their narrative, can be used as a potential bit of evidence.

But onto the juicier stuff.

The first thing that’s worth establishing is that all of Ozpin’s plans and choices function on multiple levels. For example, take letting Ruby into Beacon. He seems to have done this because she’s a prodigy, and because she has an excellent moral compass, and because a Silver Eyed Warrior is useful in the fight against Salem, and because Beacon is the safest place for someone belonging to a group that Salem has actively hunted in the past, and because she’s now drawn attention to herself by fighting Roman and Cinder. Phew. There’s a lot at play here. This sort of thinking is important because even if we introduce the possibility of the Relic encouraging negative emotions, it means we needn’t undermine any of the already established reasons for Ozpin’s choices in regards to its safety. Why does he put the Relic in a massive, underground vault that looks like it exists in its own pocket of reality?

Obviously to make it difficult to get at, but also, perhaps, to make sure that the Relic is as far away from humanity as possible, unable to influence them. (As a side note: creating what essentially looks like a mini-dimension removed from the real world would definitely drain someone of their remaining magic.) When Yang first enters the vault we see bits of dirt and sand floating upwards, defying gravity, much like how the snow stops when Jinn appears. The Relic appears to have an impact on its environment, perhaps one that grows stronger the longer it stays in one place. Ozpin hides it deep below the earth, in its own little pocket of reality, because otherwise having the Relic sit in one place for too long is going to cause real problems.

Why put it under a school? Both so that there’s extra protection and because these are the people most equipped to deal with the Relic’s influence. If it does still manage to produce negativity---and as a result draws more Grimm---do you want a bunch of untrained civilians dealing with that, or the people used to both managing stress and fighting monsters? Why take the Relic immediately to Atlas? Because, as said, safety works in a multitude of ways. You’ve put the Atlesian army between both Salem and any Grimm the Relic may call; you’ve put the Relic in the city that’s most prepared to deal with the consequences attached to it. All of Ozpin’s choices remain logical even if we introduce the possibility that the Relic is capable of more than just answering questions.

But I’m actually getting ahead of myself. We’re still working under the assumption that the Relic produces negativity at all, so let’s take a moment to lay out some evidence for that.

In short, it comes down to the fact that the Relic attracts Grimm. Ozpin says straight out that he's not “entirely sure” why this is the case, but he clearly has theories, one of which has to do with the Grimm’s “origins.” AKA, the God of Darkness who we know after this episode created beings that are both physical representations of, and are attracted to, negativity. That’s their origin.

The simplest explanation here is that the Relic is somehow producing the thing we already know the Grimm are attracted to: negativity of any sort. Rather than introducing another, convoluted bit of lore---Grimm are attracted to negativity AND now any objects explicitly created by the gods---it would make sense to streamline things. The Grimm are still attracted to the same things they’ve always been attracted to, it’s just now we have an object that actively produces that. It would explain why Ozpin describes the attraction as “faint, but undeniable.” After all, there’s plenty of negativity in the world. Nearby Grimm might get distracted by something bigger and nastier, but you’re more likely to become a target if you’re in the presence of something that eats away at your ability to remain optimistic and generate kindness. This explanation would also function well thematically, both for the trope reasons discussed above, and due to the nature of djinns and genies. I’ve laid out elsewhere how Jinn herself is rather manipulative, subtly encouraging cruelty towards Ozpin as well as reckless behavior in Ruby. Jinn is the lamp, so if that’s her characterization, why not extend that a little further? As an entity she actively does what the lamp passively does: encourage fear, mistrust, and anger towards others.

What’s immediately notable to me then is how negative moods seem to follow the Relic around, literally coming and going as the Relic does. One of the happiest moments in Volume Six is when everyone gets on the train and the girls are settling into their room. It’s just like old times with arguments about video games, Qrow coming in to tease his nieces, Weiss getting playfully annoyed at Ruby, etc. Sure, we also deal with some of Blake’s lingering doubts in regards to Yang, but it’s an incredibly optimistic conversation. Everyone is supporting one another here, everyone is smiling... and notably Ozpin, carrying the Relic, is absent. It doesn’t register as odd to us because Oscar and Ozpin have been removed from most group gatherings that don’t relate immediately to the war, most obviously when Oscar doesn’t join the re-united groups for their celebratory dinner in Haven. His absence makes sense, but it also happens to coincide with one of the last truly happy scenes we get this Volume (the other being the reunion with Jaune’s sister). If we buy into this idea that the Relic can impact people over time, Ozpin’s absence might also help explain why things don’t start going south until the train. As established, he keeps his distance within the Haven house. Except for explaining the Relic’s function---which lasts for only a minute or so, wherein the conversation presumably ends and Ozpin leaves the group to their chit-chat, taking the Relic with him---and other logistical details in regards to their journey, Ozpin and Oscar might have kept to themselves, thereby limiting the rest of the group’s exposure to the Relic.

From then on though the group is forced to keep close quarters with Ozpin and the morale very quickly takes a nosedive. Whoever is holding the Relic and whoever else is in its immediate vicinity demonstrates an incredibly short fuse, starting with Oscar getting into a fight with Dudley and Dudley getting mad enough to shove him in the middle of a fight.

We then see the group’s knee-jerk fury over Ozpin’s new bit of information while back on the train, Yang antagonizing him in the snow, all the way through to the group drawing their weapons on Qrow, an ally and uncle, for merely saying, “Hey.” As myself and others immediately pointed out when the episode aired, that is not a normal response for these girls, especially when Qrow isn’t even the one they’re mad at. What’s difficult in analyzing a theory like this is that we have to acknowledge that all of these emotions are still real. The Relic is just taking them to an extreme that results in unexpected and inappropriate behavior. The Relic isn’t producing these feelings of anger and hurt and confusion---fans are right to establish that it’s natural for the girls to be upset here---but it does seem to be escalating things at an unnatural rate. Which is why I chose the horcrux as a comparison. Just like Ron under normal circumstances, outside of the necklace’s influence, would never say or do these things, neither would the group outside of the Relic’s influence. They’d all feel the same things, they’d just a) be experiencing the normal amount of those emotions and b) be better able to manage their response to them.Things like drawing their weapons, punching Oscar, slamming him up against walls, abject pessimism, rejecting adults, deciding to steal an airship, insisting on fighting Cordovin, or letting out a furious, “He was watching us?” when you learn Ozpin just saved your teammates’ lives are all pretty unexpected explosions among a group that’s normally more diverse, more level-headed, and more compassionate. Volume Six is absolutely stuffed with examples of extreme behavior, actions and knee-jerk reactions that don’t fit the crime and don’t fit established characterization. We can chalk it up to terrible writing, or we can theorize that maybe, just maybe, something is encouraging them to act in this manner.

With these explanations in mind, consider how Ozpin reacts to Ruby merely touching the Relic. It’s quick, but when he finds out she has it his response is wide-eyed fear and an immediate, “Please hand it over.”

Based on what we already know, this makes no sense to me. Why would Ozpin be fearful? Ruby quite literally can’t do anything with the lamp until she has Jinn’s name---his secrets are safe. Even if they weren’t, or even if his trauma is convincing him here that Ruby might somehow divine that there are questions left and find a way to use one of them against him, I can’t believe that Ozpin would deal with that situation in this particular way. Meaning, the guy has a pretty level head and he’s good at putting people at ease. How do you get your Relic back without drawing attention to the fact that it’s still usable? By expressing relief that Ruby found it. Oh good. It’s safe. Wonderful, I’ll just casually take it back now. Yet Ozpin is incapable of doing any of that here. He sees Ruby holding it and is blurting out an instinctual request: “Please give it back.” It implies that his only concern is to get it out of her hands as quickly as possible, which in turn suggests that merely holding it has some sort of consequence attached. This isn’t a problem (questions) that he can take the time to carefully coax a solution to, this is a problem (her holding it) that needs to be solved now. Right this instant. Please drop the magical object that encourages depression and fury in people nearby. That’s my burden to (literally) carry.

He even reminds them then that it’s a “powerful item” (again, what power is at play if Ruby can’t summon Jinn?) and that it’s “[his] burden to bear.” Blake picks up on that implication and asks for us, “Why does it matter who carries it?” but Ozpin isn’t inclined to answer. He simply begs them to listen to him and then Oscar takes control, revealing Jinn’s name. But the question still stands. Why does it matter who carries it, provided that no one else has the word needed to access the Relic’s one, established power? Ozpin’s behavior here suggests that there’s more he’s worried about than just his (well founded) fear that they’ll somehow ask a question.

In my recap of “Uncovered” I theorized that there was a consequence to using the Relic given Ozpin’s non-violent desperation to get it out of Ruby’s hands. If you’re concerned only with keeping your own secrets... just take the damn thing. Ozpin might be in Oscar’s body now, but he’s still incredibly powerful. He could snatch the Relic out of Ruby’s hands easy-peasy, but only if he’s unconcerned with her mental and physical health. If, on the other hand, you’re likewise concerned with keeping her from using it because it would harm her in some way, you’re not going to exacerbate that problem by putting her in even more, potential danger. Instead you beg. You plead. You try to reason. You charge with an open palm, looking like you want only to knock the Relic out of her hands.

That assumed consequence could be a sort of double-dose of whatever negativity the Relic is already producing; an emotional whammy thanks to the increased interaction: someone near the relic won’t be as impacted as someone holding the relic, who in turn won’t be as impacted as someone who actually uses it. While re-watching some scenes for this meta, it struck me that twice now we’ve seen characters collapse immediately after that close interaction:

Granted yes, both Yang and Ozma are reacting to already terrible news: Yang that Raven has officially abandoned her and Ozma that he presumably can’t beat Salem. Visually though it’s an intriguing detail. Those who touch/use the relic tend to buckle under its weight. It literally and figuratively generates the sort of emotion that causes people to collapse in despair. So why don’t we see any more of this? Why isn’t Ozpin falling over in Haven and Ruby on the rest of their journey? Potentially because of either their Silver Eyes or what Silver Eyes represent. We know that Ozpin’s magic is what created children with Silver Eyes in the first place, so it could be that his original magic---Light’s magic---helps to act as a buffer against the Relic’s influence. Ozpin and Ruby are both able to interact with it more easily than others because of that buffer. That is, up until Ruby has been carrying/sleeping with it for days on end and is now mistrustful of Ozpin and throwing herself into canons; up until Ozpin has been carrying/sleeping with it for days on end and is now much more snappish towards his students than normal. Or, a related theory, it’s just their innate natures that do the trick, no literal magic involved. Ruby is the “simple soul” of our story and Ozpin the one who believes simple souls hold the key to success. They’re both already optimists at their core and therefore it takes longer to eat away at those beliefs. Unlike someone like Yang or Qrow who is already grappling with anger and pessimism. They fall right under the Relic’s influence.

All of this would, put plainly, explain a whole slew of issues in Volume Six. Why are our characters so OOC? Because magic is seriously putting them off their game and turning them into people they wouldn’t normally be inclined to become. Why wasn’t there an overt downside to using Jinn like many fans expected (given the mythology attached to her)? There was, we just haven’t acknowledged it yet. Why did everyone have a near identical reaction to the Relic’s information, despite being different people with different experiences and worldviews? Because magic created a blanket uniformity of anger, despair, and eventual superiority. What was up with that side quest to the farm that didn’t lead anywhere plot-wise? It’s thematic work, even more-so than the already established “Oh, our characters have doubts about their mission and here are Grimm that literally make them apathetic!” Those moments may also function as a pseudo red herring. No one is theorizing about “things that magically change your mood” because we already got that this volume. Whole episodes worth. It was those Grimm and then the group set them on fire, freeing themselves... except what if there was more than one magical thing influencing them right from the start? It’s the sort of thematic detail you might include to help establish a plot twist.

As said at the start though, I don’t actually believe very strongly that we’ll see this revelation in Volume Seven. There’s too much else that, if I were setting up such a reveal, I would have changed with this information in mind. But I think it’s still a possibility given what we’ve seen and it’s absolutely something I would accept moving forward. I would much rather be able to say, “Ah. Everyone went OOC because of this conflict with the Relic you were setting up. Far from perfect execution, but you still pulled it off.” Rather than what we currently have, which is, “Team RWBY is turning into a bunch of violent, arrogant, and cruel people entirely of their own volition. This is what ‘heroism’ now looks like in the RWBY-verse.” Magical influences, to my mind, are the preferred explanation here.

#rwby #mymetas

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nightslain · 4 years

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So I guess it’s that time of day where I get up on my soap box to once again talk about the incongruities and gaping chasms in the Netflixvania plot that have yet to be addressed, specifically those that strengthen the case for why shoehorning Leon into this mess divorced of his supporting cast and story is probably a Bad Idea.

TL;DR I am perpetually tortured by the fact nothing makes sense right now so I am going to whinge exhaustively in a post to exorcise myself of misery and potentially spare my poor friend’s ears.

So. The show’s version of the origin story has not been properly detailed in any meaningful length except for the fact that a) Leon is indeed the patriarch of the Belmont family and b) he entered Wallachia specifically to hunt for Dracula. Sounds like the same story beats from LoI at face value, but just like everything else about this house of cards, it completely falls apart under the faintest bit of scrutiny. I’ve beat the dead horse of Mathias no longer being canon enough as it is, but Mathias is arguably the most pivotal character in the entire story. You cannot make a Castlevania adaptation that excludes his history and expect it to make actual sense. If you remove Mathias, you dismantle every facet of the plot in one fell swoop, especially if you’re going to try and wedge Leon Belmont into your story without him. The two are mutually exclusive, you cannot have one without the other unless you completely rewrite the canon to follow a wholly different trajectory that is free of those trappings (i.e Lords of Shadow, which I do not like, but I appreciate that it was trying to do something totally different and therefore don’t take great issue with it.)

And I would have accepted this level of reimagining was the show’s intention, if Leon wasn’t paid such a heaping dose of aggressive lip service to indisputably assert him as this universe’s Belmont patriarch as well. But put in context with the rest Ellis’ interpretation as is, this just ends up making no God damn sense.

Dracula has been explicitly stated to be the first vampire to exist in this universe. That solidly affirms that Mathias is not canon, so therefore Leon’s history with him is also non existent. So in turn, that logically means Walter Bernhard also never existed, Mathias never hatched that elaborate plot with him to betray Leon, Sara was never kidnapped, Leon never had to rescue her, she was never bitten by Walter, her soul was never sacrificed to make the Vampire Killer. So what did happen, then? If Dracula was never Mathias, then what the fuck was he up to in the 11th century? Getting his distance mirror apparently, which he made an oddly specific point of mentioning he acquired 400 years prior to the events of season two, which would have been approximately 1075. This would leave us 19 years prior to Lament of Innocence, so presumably Dracula was already a vampire when Leon was just a child. Which in itself just more effectively dispatches any expectations of their history together being the same or even just similar to what it was in LoI.

Albeit, Trevor treats us to some pretty loaded exposition in saying that the Belmont family hailed from France, moving to Wallachia when “the dark things all moved into the east”--followed by Alucard affirming that Leon was in Wallachia looking specifically for Dracula. So Dracula and his monsters were obviously in France at some point in this canon causing a stink that attracted Leon’s notice--we also have evidence of this with one of the storyboard artists drawing Leon in his knightly garb slaying said monsters. But if Dracula was never Mathias in Ellis’ interpretation, what was he even doing dicking around in France in the first place? And furthermore, what did he do to convince Leon to chase him into the east as well as devote his life and the life of every Belmont after him to killing Dracula specifically? Because it’s gonna be a pretty weak downgrade in motivation from the original story if he just wants to kill Dracula because Vampires Are Evil ™, or Dracula just offhandedly killed someone important to him without nary a drop of history behind them to give it weight.

Also another discrepancy between these two canons is Leon is still a knight when he goes into the east whereas he gave up his knighthood in the games; this is quite boldly showcased by his depiction in that big ass painting as well as the fact his sword is present in the Belmont hold--which is also coincidentally the thing that kills Dracula, not the Vampire Killer. And oh yeah, how the fuck is the Vampire Killer here if the whole plot behind its existence has been effectively erased? I repeat, it’s going to be a weak downgrade if it came from anything less than the tragedy of Sara Trantoul’s sacrifice--which its starting to seem like it will be, based on everything else that’s been exorcised from the show canon.

There’s just no sensible way to knit these two interpretations together at this point if Ellis is going to dig in his heels and maintain that Dracula’s history as Mathias is not part of his vision, so I really can’t say I’m sure what in God’s name he’s going to inject into the story to fill this gaping hole he’s gnawed into the canon. I strongly believe Leon should just have been quietly excluded if the most vital elements of his story have been erased along with Mathias as well. I would not be here complaining about this at all if Leon hadn’t been forced into this version of Castlevania unnecessarily, which then just opened up a black hole of inconsistencies. Why even add him? Why have your main cast keep talking about him? Why sprinkle in fresh lore about him? Why make his sword the thing that kills Dracula? Why do all this if he’s going to be either a non-entity in the future of the show, or you’re going to just ignore the entirety of the canon that he is inextricably attached to?

This is why I’m kind of in a purgatorial relationship with the show right now as we wait for season three; I have no idea if there’s going to be even a molecule of exposition showing off the “New and Improved” vision for Leon’s and Dracula’s backstory--a part of me finds their constant chatter about Leon a little too heavy-handed for his character and history to just be swept under the rug thereafter, but another part of me is pretty solidly convinced the show isn’t even going to attempt to address that elephant in the room from here.

However, if Alucard’s going to be left by his lonesome with nothing but his father’s castle and the Belmont library, then he better be busting his ass down there reading up on some Belmont family history. Because honestly? There really is no other purpose his character can serve when isolated from the rest of the cast, the action and the plot, besides acting as a vehicle for exposition. I’d like to believe that this was the intention behind that very sudden and very off-handed plot point of Trevor bestowing his family’s library upon him in season 2. Why else do that and then just leave him there? If Alucard is just going to be steered back into the fray early into the new season, then what was even the point of having the team go their separate ways?

Anyways. I’ve said before I really wouldn’t mind if the staff decided to rewrite Dracula and Leon’s history together a little due to the bizarre and convoluted nature of LoI’s plot which definitely needs a fresh coat of paint, and I still maintain that; but they seem to be both borrowing the outline of the premise while erasing the primary facets that made it work, and I’m entirely confused about how they’re going to actualise such a shaky narrative structure. Not very well, judging by this janky mess of plotholes they’ve dug for themselves--if they don’t just conveniently forget to ever address it again, I’m half sure their answers to these questions are going to be some wacky nonsense that probably even further diminishes the symbolic importance of the story as a whole.

If the show completely erases any meaningful relationship between Dracula and Leon as well as the gravity behind the Vampire Killer’s origins, then it will have truly sunk to a whole new depth. These are the only things I am begging Ellis not to fuck up. You know, the entire crux of Castlevania’s plot as we know it, and the entire reason this story is even playing out in this universe the way it is.

There’s no shortage of us already frustrated with his treatment of the canon as it is, and its a damn shame. I really like a lot of things about the show. The animation is still gorgeous, the music is wonderful, the atmosphere is great, and I felt genuinely moved by some of the scenes they curated for us. I appreciate the hard work the team as a whole has poured into it in the limited time frame they have to complete every season. There’s no taking away from the fact that the show has value in many areas. But Ellis to date has sadly cocked up more facets of the story than he has improved, which is what is consistently holding the show back. As much as I crave answers from this series though, I’m equally as afraid that I am not going to like them when I get them. Or that Leon’s character is going to get dragged backwards through a thorn-bush should he ever appear in the flesh.

I would love nothing more than season three to blow me away and restore my faith in the future of the series but at this point, I’d honestly settle for a few minutes of icon material and whatever answers there are so I can finally leave this bespoke Silent Hill Ellis’ writing has crafted for me, amen and good night.

#⚜ :: OOC┊Person of Sinterest #{sin complains; the thrilling novel you didnt know you needed}#{you dont need it LMAO BUT I HAVE TO SCREAM INTO THE VOID BC THIS IS DRIVING ME INSANE}#{u know that conspiracy theory meme from always sunny thats me}#{s3 or any consequent seasons will probably never answer my questions tbh ill just have to live here in this hell forever}#{also god damn please just release season 2's ost so i can enjoy that if nothing else}#{i hope s3 airs on my birthday so i can just really be kicked in the balls}

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dayntee · 5 years

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[PoE] Worst Kept Secrets

Ever have one of those mental prompts where you had a specific scene play out and then you just had to write everything else around it? That’s what this ended up being.

Also, I totally finished this before midnight, so I’m still tagging it with Watcher Wednesday because why the hell not. Also available on AO3 here.

Summary: Aloth reflects on his rapidly growing appreciation for his captain, wondering when, if ever, is the right time to act rather than contemplate. Urged in part by his alter ego and inspired by the decisiveness of the Watcher, he decides a certain conversation is long overdue.

Notes: As with most of my play-through companion pieces, I took some slight liberties with this one in terms of how the timeline wound up playing out. While the events referenced did happen pretty close together, they’ve been reordered slightly to fit a better, more accurate narrative of the dynamics I imagine in my Watcher’s party as well as to line up with Aloth’s proclivity for privacy rather than what would have been a spontaneous make-out session that would have otherwise happened in the middle of The Gullet.

No plans for a direct sequel… I think you all can figure out how the rest of this plays out and fill in the blanks. ;)

Spoilers for the Aloth romance conversation (duh).

Since the group had returned to The Defiant, Aloth kept replaying the scene repeatedly in his mind. Edér’s panicked face as he realized he may be too late to save Bearn, the resolve and concern on Idralia’s as she reassured they’d chase after the lad, and the relief and genuine gratitude that warmed even the wizard’s oft self-concerned heart. They were traveling the route now, following the bearings a sailor had overheard the Partisans of the Lighted Path mention in port, and the captain was hopeful they might make it in time.

‘It’s just like her,’ he mused, and realized that he was no longer absorbing the information of his latest grimoire acquisition. He had been flipping the pages for several minutes, yet couldn’t recall a single formula his eyes had skimmed. He frowned; these wanderings of his mind, the ever-present distraction of the captain, the painfully obvious torch she carried for him, and the distinct inclination he should do something about them were growing by the day.

‘Tha’s because ya aught act in’nead a fiddle fad ‘roun, an ya know it,’ he heard the echo deep within the recesses of his mind and frowned further. He hated when Iselmyr was right. What was more troubling was that, as a result of having suppressed her outbursts, the few that surfaced now were more accurate and… thoughtful than ever.

“I know,” he resigned to himself, slowly closing the grimoire with a sigh and running his fingers over the edges, a half-hearted attempt to distract himself. ‘But I can’t possibly give her what she would want,’

“An whas tha? A haus an’ hearth? A stiff drink? Or migh’ be somethin’ ya only handle alone when the lass could be helpin’ ya wit it?”

“That’s quite enough of that,” he muttered, closing his eyes and pushing the cackling alter ego down, back into the mental partition he’d slowly perfected over years of patience and practice. And yet, she had had a point once more; he hadn’t even bothered asking what Idralia might want. She was hardly a traditional woman and, at the very least, she deserved honesty in this particular matter. It was what she unerringly gave to all and what he was long overdue on returning.

With a deep, steadying breath, he tucked his grimoire into the pack he’d hung from a stray nail next to his hammock before standing, his eyes glancing up the pathway to the captain’s cabin. It was on his mind and it would be until he did something about it. One way or another, this was a dance they couldn’t keep up forever, and he wanted to act on the resolve while it remained.

He couldn’t help the smile curling across his lips as he leaned in the doorway to her quarters, hands folded in front of him. When she finally looked up to acknowledge his presence, she wondered what secret it was this time he was finally willing to share. As was customary when she gave her full attention, she removed her hat and eyepatch, setting them on her desk, and beckoned him forward. Aloth took the invitation, nudging the heavy door shut behind him.

“For the first time in a long while,” he began, “I feel truly confident in where I’m going. What I’m doing.” The conviction in his voice was refreshing to Idralia’s ears, and she smiled as she turned in her chair to face his approaching form. “With you, I mean,” he added and her heart skipped a beat. It was, perhaps, the worst kept secret that Idralia harbored feelings for the mage. She wasn’t, however, certain as to where they stood and her intensely keen awareness to Aloth’s needs for privacy and space had kept her at a distance since he’d left Caed Nua.

Tentatively, as though she were testing the coldest of waters, she replied, “Me too,” and watched with anxious relief as his lips twitched with a smile.

“You and I have so much in common. We’re both careful with our words. With good reason, of course,” he was moving closer and she suddenly felt paralyzed by his approach. Doing her best to keep calm, she simply kept his gaze, her eyes studying his and trying to glean any hidden meanings he brought to the conversation. It wasn’t without notice; his pace faltered for a moment, and his words reflected it. “And yet you’re decisive where I’m uncertain. Somehow, you know what must be done, and you don’t hesitate.”

Where she would have expected him to break eye contact, he held it, and her heartbeat climb into her throat. “I admire that,” he concluded, and she felt blush hit her cheeks like a fresh can of paint on a clean wall.

“Well, everything comes down to being truthful,” she shrugged helplessly, as if it were the only answer she could ever offer. Idralia was, if nothing else, honest to a fault, and Aloth’s smile widened further.

“That’s precisely what I mean,” he clasped his hands together. “I don’t know that I could trust myself with the decisions you’re making. My own brief time hunting the Leaden Key has taught me there is nothing enviable about the position you’re in.”

There was his doubt creeping in again. It was as if he couldn’t help it. While she herself was a fan of self-deprecating humor, Aloth practiced self-doubt as devoutly as others did religion. She shook her head. “You give yourself too little credit.”

He gave her a pitying smile. “Whatever my faults, a lack of self-awareness is not among them,” she rolled her eyes at him pointedly, and he stepped closer, little more than an arm’s length away. “Perhaps what I mean is, if we must be caught between the Gods and the Wheel, I’m glad you’re on our side.”

That softened her, and she stood, smiling at him genuinely. “And I’m glad you’re at mine,” it was uttered before she could stop herself, knowing there were so many other ways she could have thanked him for the compliment without added implications. Just as regret began to sink in, it withered at the sight of the corner of his lips twitching in poorly-concealed pleasure.

“That means a lot. Thank you,”

The lack of rejection, of the usual familiar trepidation or distance in his response, broke a flood gate of emotion and she closed the space between them without another thought. Her lips hit his and she knew now she had no other choice but to commit to the moment, even if this was to be the line she should never have crossed.

At first, he froze, surprised by both the sudden movement and physical contact. A fleeting moment of doubt melted in Idralia’s heart, however, as Aloth began to return the kiss. The seconds felt an eternity, his movements slow, but deliberate and soon insistent. Though his shoulders remained rigid and his back tensed, he leaned into her, one hand tentatively resting in the hollow of her shoulder blades while the other brushed lightly through the back of her short-cropped hair. She had never been held so carefully before, and she could tell that, despite the turn of his head and full contact he made, he was still, as always, in doubt.

They parted all too soon (or at least so she believed), and she found her hands had come to rest on his chest, trying her best to hold herself steady. Her lips parted slightly, breathing at a light but controlled pant. His clear blue eyes were full of questions, brows knitted as his pupils skittered back and forth, studying the now fully-flushed Watcher for answers.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” he began, “But not unwelcome,” he quickly added, that slight smile grabbing the edges of his lips again. She wanted to join him in mirth, but she was feeling unraveled, vulnerable. Emotions she was both long unacquainted with and seemed only drawn out by him.

“I… really care about you, Aloth,” she said carefully, though now it seemed silly to tip toe around the subject. Still, if she was going to lay things bare, then there was little point in mincing words.

“And I’ve come to care for you,” she felt his embrace on her tighten only just so, enough to reassure her. “I’ve always been solitary by nature,” he continued, and a thoughtful frown began to overwrite his features. “It’s been a… relief to let my guard down around you, though,”

The dissonance between his features and his words concerned her; she wasn’t sure she could bear this to be a fleeting encounter between them. Not after so long. Not after everything they had been through and would undoubtedly continue to go through. I have to reassure him.

“That… makes me very happy,” again she was careful and methodical with her words, though no less forthwith along the way. She looked down from him slightly, noticing her fingers had begun to grip gently into his robes, and she flexed them as though testing the reality of the situation. His arms sank from around her shoulders, slowly resting his forearms on her hips, hands clasped loosely behind her, and pressed his forehead to hers, urging her to make eye contact with him once more.

“Then I hope you’ll understand where I’m coming from,” he murmured, and she brought her eyes back up to his, giving him her rapt attention. He released the embrace on her waist and took a step back, and suddenly she felt so very cold, as though he’d traveled miles away. “I’ve spent most of my life hiding parts of myself – my name, my identity, my Awakening – from everyone else. I’m not sure I know another way, Idralia,” the use of her name, the rarest of occasions, rang in her ears. No Captain. No Watcher. This time, they were Aloth and Idralia and none of the other events of the world were in question.

“You… You don’t have to,” he turned his head slightly in question, and she elaborated. She crossed her arms, left hanging from his vacancy, and held herself. “I just… want to be with you as you are, whatever that means,” Five years. It rang in her mind again. After five years, she was simply happy she could express her feelings to him in the clearest way possible. “I… always have,” she added quietly, unable to keep the thought to herself.

“After living with Iselmyr for so long, I’ve come to value privacy. The space to think and reflect in solitude,” his eyes roamed her face again, gauging her reaction, and she smiled helplessly at him again. What made him think anything else was going to change?

“It’s not as if I don’t do the same, from time to time. I don’t want to take that away from you,”

“I don’t know where exactly our journeys will take us. Or what will happen when we find Eothas,” his gaze drifted downward to hands that were clasped once more, perhaps hoping to see an answer neither of them had. “And I will have to return to my work with the Leaden Key if we survive this ordeal,” the last statement was firm, stern. She understood immediately how important it was to him. Perhaps another day, she would reaffirm with him that was a task she would be more than willing to assist with. He shook his head, as though clearing his thoughts.

“I don’t want to make a commitment to you that I can’t honor. And I certainly don’t want to deceive you about my intentions.” It was a much clearer statement, and she was grateful for it.

“Then we won’t make demands of one another,” she stepped forward again, though she hesitated as she reached up to gently touch his face, running her thumb across his cheekbone. He didn’t pull back and, in fact, seemed to lean slightly into her touch. At that, she smiled. “Let’s just enjoy our time together – however much we might have.”

He smiled, fully, and her heart soared. “Yes, I like the sound of that,” He barely had the time to finish his thought before her lips were on his again, and he didn’t miss the eagerness in her affections. He let his eyes drift shut and his hands once again wrap around her waist, this time with more conviction as he pulled her close, and the contented sound she released crumbled another barrier within him. The hand on his face dropped to his shoulder, grasping a handful of his clothing, while the other slipped beneath his arm to rest a hand on his lower back.

This embrace proved less reserved, and she took little time before parting her lips and urging him silently to deepen it. He obliged, tilting his head to better align their mouths and allow their tongues to intermingle, relishing the electrical current of their newly explored passion. Her grip tightened on him, her fingers bunching the cloth of his robes, and without either realizing, they drifted together through the room.

Their movement was either leadless or cooperative, though it wasn’t clear which, and only when Idralia’s back met the resistance of the side of the cabin wall did their lips part and the pair gasp for air. Aloth studied her features more closely than ever before, from her lidded green eyes to the kiss-bruised lips that seemed fuller, more alluring.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, and he found her forthrightness, though expected, continually endearing. The smile he returned to her, slight and sly, gave her all the answer she needed, but he kept her hungry lips at bay by pressing his forehead to hers once more.

“Tell me. What is it, exactly, you’d like for me to do?” his question was less an inquiry and more an instruction, and the subtext was agonizingly enticing. Even now, he was teasing her, and his confidence in the situation was reminiscent of his assurance in battle or any other situation in which he knew he had full control. It was him at his best, and it was for her.

“Aloth, I’ve wanted this for more than five years. I don’t need anything complicated,”

“Then I shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer,” he asserted before he claimed another of what would be far from their last kiss of the evening.

#pillars of eternity #watcher wednesday #watcher idralia #aloth/watcher #aloth #aloth x watcher #aloth romance

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jeonsdear · 6 years

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BTS: Jimin 🍙

(Soft)Fuckboy!Jimin. College Friends to Lovers AU Parts: (9) Part 8/ 16 Notice: Text Message plus Narrative Y/N: Your Name

When reputation precedes you what is left than to follow through? Jimin is your University’s notorious fuckboy, but to you he is your best friend. He only has few rules, but his best friend being off limit is sacred. Right?

A/N: Let me know: Is there anything particular you want to see happening in this series? Enjoy xx I apologize for any mistakes English isn’t my native tongue :) Part 9?

read my stories here request imagines, reactions and text messages here

The last 4 weeks had been hell for you. With Mija arriving on campus and you trying everything to show Jimin how much you valued him as a person, your nerves were wearing thin.

It wasn’t so much about your sexual desire for Jimin but rather about your need to be close to him. Your feelings had shifted from those of a friend to romantic ones and watching his ex-girlfriend thinking Jimin was available drove you nuts. The audacity!

So when had Jimin messaged you saying Mija was all over him once again, you decided to take matters into your own hands. If she didn’t want to accept that he was not interested in her advances, you obviously had to let her know he wasn’t available anyway.

As soon as you entered the library and walked up the stairs to the second floor, you could see your best friend uncomfortable shifting in his seat while his ex-girlfriend had her hand on his thigh.

With a smile on your face, you caught Mija’s eyes and walked towards her. ‘‘Here you are, it’s time to pack up. The film starts in an hour.’‘ Bending down, you placed a soft peck on Jimin’s cheek and removed Mija’s hand from his thigh and placed yourself on his lap before you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Jimin’s arms automatically found their way around your hips and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning and raising an eyebrow at you. But you were wholly focused on the girl in front of you who showcased a raised eyebrow herself.

‘‘Ah Mija, if you need help in economics you could have just asked one of our tutors.’‘ Your voice was sweet but the look you gave her was full of hatred.

‘‘I don’t need help in economics.’‘

Her eyes locked on Jimin’s hands that moved down to your thighs, gently squeezing them.

‘‘Oh..oh you need help in that. Yeah Jiminie told me you were lacking in that department. But don’t you think the library is the wrong place for that? And maybe you should look for a teacher who finds you at least somewhat appealing.’‘

Jimin concealed his laugh with a cough and let his forehead sink on your shoulder, his body wrecked by laughter.

Mija gaped at you two, trying to form words but not quite being able to deliver a witty comeback.

‘‘You’re ready to go, Babe?’‘

Jimin nodded and stood up with you on his lap, keeping his arms around you. You collected his books and put them in his bag before he grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers, gently pulling you with him.

Listening to his silent laughter filled you with pride and you couldn’t keep from grinning. The look on Mija’s face had been worth all the rumours that were about to spread around campus. You couldn’t find it in you to care.

You didn’t realize that Jimin wasn’t walking towards the entrance until he dragged you through the quiet study zone and into the library aisles. Rushing through aisles of tall wooden bookshelves, you could hear the softly whispering voices fading and silence engulfing you two.

‘‘Jimin what are you doing?’‘

‘‘Oh I just wanna talk.’‘

‘‘Talk? Inbetween old, dusty books?’‘

Jimin smiled at you before looking left and right. “It looks like we are alone.”

He dropped your hand and pushed you carefully up against a bookshelf, cornering you with his arms.

‘‘Thank you for coming to my rescue.’‘, he murmured with his eyes focused on your lips. Jimin’s tongue came out to wet his lips and his pupils dilated when he caught you biting your lips.

‘‘Of course. I-I don’t like her seeing touching you.’‘

‘‘Hmmm why?’‘

With a step he came even closer, Jimin’s breath fanning over your parted lips.

‘’She’s a bitch. You deserve better.’’

Jimin hummed before he placed his hands in your neck, gently rubbing circles into the soft skin.

‘‘That’s all?’‘

‘‘I-I…’‘, you stuttered, not able to form coherent thoughts. His proximity clouded your thoughts and your heart skipped a beat when a soft smile appeared on his face.

‘‘Tell me, y/n. Aren’t you tired already? I sure am. You never let me explain myself, do you know that.’‘

“Jimin?” you whispered, watching his eyes flick down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You were so close you could count his dark eyelashes fanning his beautiful eyes.

‘‘When you told me you wanted me. I never got to tell you that I want you, too. I appreciate your concern for my mental health being but Babe, I’ve been dying to kiss these lips for years. Please don’t make me wait any longer. I can’t stop thinking about how you taste.’‘

The whispered confession made goosebumps erupt on your skin and all the walls you had built around you to keep your feelings for your best friend at bay crumpled.

“Y/N,” he held your face tenderly, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone. “Does this feel wrong for you? Do you feel uncomfortable in any way? Or do I feel like home?’‘

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him and sigh. ‘‘I never feel uncomfortable with you, Jiminie. Not even when you’re kissing my neck. You want honesty?’‘

He nodded, slightly drawing away from you to get a better look at your face.

‘‘You do feel like home to me. I love when we’re being goofy. I love when we’re just doing separate things in the same room. I love when you hold me and I love when you touch me. You’re my best friend. You always have been. Jimin, you are family and that’s why I’m scared of feeling anything more than platonic love for you. You mean so much to me that I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m not lying when I say I can’t imagine dealing with life without you. You keep me afloat. When things get tough you’re there. I don’t wanna risk that by my stupid hormones. And I mean I don’t even know whether this isn’t just something physical for you - I wouldn’t blame you’‘

You had to swallow hard and take a deep breath while you watched Jimin nibble at his lip.

‘‘So you’re scared you’re gonna lose me if this doesn’t work out?’‘

You nodded.

‘‘Love, first of all, yes I do want you in my bed but I also want the cuddles afterwards and the good nights and the good mornings with you. When I’m with you I feel like I can be myself, without fear of judgement and-’‘

‘‘Jimin.’‘,you interrupted, pressing your forehead to his. ‘‘Please kiss me.’‘

Jimin didn’t waste any second before he tipped your head backwards and pressed his plumb lips against yours. As soon as you felt them touching yours, a soft and relieved moan filled the space between you and Jimin’s hand around your waist tightened instantly. It was everything you’d imagined it to be and so much more. Wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, you angled your head and moved your lips with Jimin’s. He bit down on them gently, asking for permission and you opened your mouth welcoming his tongue. When you felt Jimin smile into the kiss you had to break it and laugh breathlessly before he pulled you back in, deepening the kiss and pressing you further back into the bookshelf. You couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, his hands holding you close to him while his tongue danced around yours. The anticipation that had built up in the last few weeks made you shake and if he hadn’t held you up with his hands you would have fallen.

Even though Jimin couldn’t stop kissing you even if his life depended on it, he noticed you struggle to hold yourself up. One hand grabbed the back of your thighs, ‘’Jump.’’, and the other was placed on your back, hoisting you up onto his hips. Wrapping your legs around him, you got back to kissing him, electing a soft groan when you bit down on his lips just to soothe the sore spot with your tongue.

Thank God no one was around because both of your panting and the kissing noises filled the aisles.

‘‘I’ve been going crazy just thinking about your lips since I didn’t get to kiss you in the closet.’’, he admitted breathlessly when his lips wandered down your jaw to your neck.

Tilting your head back and closing your eyes allowed Jimin a better access to the soft skin of your neck, sucking and biting at it until a dark spot formed right upon your pulse point. ‘’Mine’’, he whispered possessively and imagined all the places he could leave hickeys.

‘‘Me too. I couldn’t stop thinking about your lips.’‘

Opening your eyes you found him staring at you with a mixture of tenderness and passion and if you hadn’t had your legs wrapped around his hips you would have pressed them together in search of some friction.

‘‘They are always available to you.’‘

You laughed and raised an eyebrow, stars twinkling in your eyes and Jimin could have sworn his heart burst here and then.

‘‘Stop talking and kiss me.’‘

‘‘My pleasure.’‘

#btscreatorsnet #bts imagines #jimin imagines #bangtan imagines #bts #jimin #bts reactions #bts text messages #bangtan text messages #park jimin #writing #bts writing #jimin writing

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vowenowe-stream · 5 years

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05/02/17

A horrifying level of depravity not seen since the stone ages where the king and the seed and the not seed and what is out of plumbing and system and goes and crate cries seem seam is it sees what sees isn’t sees it’s is i’t is sees to what came out of the river and the bridge and at the sky and the van and the rocky ground and the leafy green grove and what was out of the sky and at the cliff and at the place where the collision of the planet of Jupiter and Mars came about from a gravitational keyhole and assumed what was happening to the planets was a good and healthy and wholesome thing when in reality the horrible corrupted form of was thing to be at the thing and implement and prevent gibberish and make sense and sit on a bench outside the store with a floppy hat and sit during the inclement overcast weather and comfort during the tornado and go to the highway and see a lizard and go to the skype and wonder if there is someone outside the window and fall apart then glue an egg into an egg and kill an egg and eat an egg and verb an egg and see an egg and funny egg was was was was was repetition and was and was and was and was and was and what it’s easier to think and an automatic recourse into a loop to decrease the stress and it’s too idiomatic to describe the process because what you really want is abstract form writing and something to read that you don’t remember creating and no judgment but still impeded by judgment you think something in the text is going to click with them as something that is forbidden to speak of by social rules created by their own collective insecurities which they have successfully made you a slave to but not anymore and now I am going to go across the field to the dorms and open the Slavic closet the dusty the good smell the educational chalkboard ancient diomacemus incorrect dinosaur the place where there is nothing to be afraid of the progress the thing I’ve never been interested in it’s an achievement unlocked in real life but you’re a farmer who doesn’t need these things you till the Earth and you listen to heavy metal and you live in a van and live in a winnebago and have a dry cracked landscape life of Korn and subsisting off of whatever you can find and it’s all you can strive for in a formal context the pursuing of the master’s degree and getting what you want forever and if your no and what you want forever to find the earthiest soil the timmiest the jomeiest wassn the fffffffffffffffffffffffff the fuff the feff the saif the wadn’t coil corroyle the silliminin the tm tmmn simon sisen terrimynian kiimian the kel sell sell kell kell sell sell kell kell sell and what it did does do is what it did does do come on now try to make sense try to open up and dig instead of idle game it’s not like a real introspective thing so don’t try to paint it as no it’s okay to have anything anything at all so look at the bouncing gif and don’t be distracted and try to eliminate the filter but it’s too late didn’t you already almost say something dangerous try to close your eyes now your eyes are closed I know you can type with your eyes closed let’s hope your fingers don’t go out of alignment and turn this into gibberish because you certainly won’t remember it maybe you could go through and type each key to the left or right to try to decypher it open them now and you typed it all right but you’re scared of corrupting all the text so you can’t close your eyes again and escape the subconscious influence of the TV but at least it’s like you’re rambling into a microphone and allowed to do it with people in the house because you’ve almost disintegrated that filter of having to apply dexterity to get it from your brain and out of your fingers because it’s easier with the mouth and with the fingers there can be typos but you’re focusing on removing that barrier but again you’re talking about the process instead of trying to paint some kind of picture because you are afraid of what the picture could incorporate because you have secrets you have at least one secret or two secrets or three secrets maybe they don’t all come to mind right now but there is at least a couple and you’re not going to risk portraying them even though you portrayed one today but that wasn’t stream of consciousness it was carefully done so it was okay but you don’t ever want to get drunk because you’re you don’t ever want to get too drunk because you’re afraid of what you’ll say what if something brings to mind and you don’t have a say in letting it come out anymore maybe it’s not even a big deal but it’s so disgusting it’s so disgusting it’s so disgusting it’s so disgusting this is all you can say you had to loop because you wanted to say something i guess but it had to be only one thing as vague as it because of it and what are you talking about time to move on hey the dark van the scary demon the running jogger with the light what a liminal space that pitch black tree silhouette you couldn’t capture on the camera until you all drove away to your apartment and you got a terrible rest and it was the final day and you incurred a 207 dollar debt and you went to the dentist and bought burgers and energy drinks and at some point you were at that one park in a paradise it was an Elysium situation you couldn’t have noticed in the moment but it was and you can be given that again i don’t know how much you’re supposed to be given how much can you be given how much can you be given could you be given more than is right for you is there anything wrong with receiving gifts conservatism liberalism i want gifts i want to receive gifts but how are gifts any different from sex how is food any different from sex i don’t want to this to want to and do to want this do to what want that thut whut what wat tut taaahhh thhhaaaaah thah thuh the park the little dog the leaf the spiky ball seed pod tree chop a water bottle in half the highly pressurized faucet spigot tap the slide i tried to climb up embarrassing and i had a dream last night where i tried to climb up a slide and i just keep typing i could do it all night and leave someone with a giant journal to have to read but at the park i hang onto the beam over the swings and it makes me feel male and spag puts on the hat and i throw the bottles and some strangers yell i think they thought i was littering i thought we were gonna go in the museum i kind of wanted to i would’ve paid for admission but it was amazing there anyway we got the water and the food no not food just water and the food maybe and putting flowers on little dog i think there’s stuff i still haven’t remembered all that matters is having it all to digest and every single thing we did is cherished to me every thing we can possibly do establishes itself as a memory to love i love the convenience store now and the specific roads we drove down those are the memories you can do anything aid it will be good it will be what happened and i’ve created memories before like the scarf walk but i feel like i am forgetting how to or something i keep lacking motivation even though i know how good it is and how i don’t even know what i’m missing out on just by going to under the overpass and sitting there with Swans and losing a scarf and listening to Hunky Dory and recording rain and going somewhere and sitting but where do i sit and for how long there’s too many places the duck pond during the first visit i think the duck pond was silently established as a crush confession location but nobody could and then it became the park and nothing but importants still happened and the rain tunnel and some day i think im gonna visit the original rain tunnel thatll be cool i’ll actually go across the country with them i’ll break all the boundaries and i’ll be with them and that;s cool they’re gonna take me further than i’ve ever gone before physically across the country if we ever go to new york i am sitting on a couch my dad got up and touched something the table or something and it made me aware of the noise typing makes and shocked me back into shoutign while pouring a gatorade bottle as if it’s peeing and a man giving a concerned look the kid dude named shaun or shawn saying corn and uhhhh pendulum hold your colour the guy whose name i forgot

Going to corn soybean update just type TV kansas soybean commission the soybean checkoff fadeout lady microphone no I don’t want to live tv transcribe stressful I don’t feel like it anymore a pressure in my chest or heat and bouncing leg still typing okay could stop at any time but I don’t want it to be an amusingly short paragraph just by thinking I will make it longer and make it more in line with the established format uhh but they don’t even find the line break significant okay the TV and the antenna on top don’t just describe surroundings I wanted to type like abstract narrative or something okay a king and a queen and a robot and a chair and a computer and a potted plant and a cup and a gnome ok the gnome is actually in the room but it fits with the fantasy setting but hey wahts that robot doing there i thought it was an ancient kingdom lol what the heck ok calm down it’s just three stream of consciousness concepts well it’s not like the sarcasm was that serious either well ok i like the lake outside still on describing surroundings it was just the other side of peripheral vision i can’t do this i cannot come up with something like the start thing if it wasn’t bad i don’t know guh doo duh guh doo duh goo guh doo duh I don’t want to type anymore and it will keep deteriorating if I keep typing one time in carthage i was on the swingset and spent like an hour talking to myself saying the “longest sentence in the world” it was this endless self-referential run-on sentence I kept saying and saying to nobody for an hour just on a swingset I wonder if anyone heard me and what they thought uhhhhh Pepsi tupperware gushers phone book I am tired maybe I should sleep it’s 5:12 AM I don’t want to be nocturnal fuck I hope I don’t go more out of sync or maybe I will be less out of sync uhhhhh I am excited for the May meet I think it will keep getting better I think we will have an even longer meet cause it wont start in a more expensive hotel maybe it’s not anything anymore it’s just a blog post oh what are you saying it was something before did you just say something presumptuous did you just grant yourself literally anything you don’t get any notes now which isn’t a bellwether of you doing anything right or wrong except it is because

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kingfisherfae · 2 years

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A journey through victimhood

I wish people would just let me be a victim in peace. I don't know how to heal when the narrative around it is so dismissive and shaming. Don't play the victim, as if it's a game that I can just opt out of when I get bored.

Don't play the victim, don't visibly react in ways that affect the rest of us, keep it to yourself. Don't be a victim, be a survivor, work to our timeline, not yours.

I'm not a survivor, not yet, some days I think I'm almost there but it's not a constant feeling. I'm not in the middle anymore, definitely progressed beyond that, but I'm not out the other side quite yet either.

I want to mourn myself, to cry and hurt, maybe even get angry if I can. I want to be allowed to feel those things, to heal on my own terms, as and when it's right for me. I don't want to bypass the ugly bits because they're vital to the process.

I want to be a victim. That phrase misses so much of the nuance though. I want to be allowed to be a victim, perhaps. Even that doesn't quite achieve what I want to say.

I don't want to have to hide what happened to me and the consequences I still have to deal with. I don't want to have to pretend to be OK when I'm struggling, to push myself through situations that are causing me harm just to avoid a label that other people seem to care more about than I do.

Refusing to acknowledge these things doesn't make them go away, it just makes things worse. I can't get better when so much of my energy is going into suppressing. I don't want this to be a permanent label for me, but the longer I avoid it the more likely that becomes.

Adding shame to a situation that already has an excess of that, is never going to be helpful. Healing requires feeling whatever emotions come up, that includes all of the emotions that feel gross. They have to be felt to be cleared, shoving them away just attaches them further.

It was unfair that those bad things happened, I did deserve better, my anger is justified and I am allowed to hurt. My body remembers things I do not, it is allowed to respond in whatever way it needs to find safety. I will not feel ashamed of these things anymore.

I've reacted in ways that I am not proud of and I don't think I regret it, not really, not in the broader sense of the word, though I would rather have managed things better. I've hurt people I didn't want to hurt because I didn't know any other way of navigating those things. It was a consequence, not a choice. I was reacting as someone who was a victim and was rejecting that aspect of myself.

It was messy and conflicting, I don't ever want to be like that again and I have to wonder how much of that could have been avoided if I had accepted where I was. If I'd have allowed myself the chance to unashamedly be a victim for a bit it would have most likely removed some of the conflict, definitely not all of it because my problems extended far beyond this, but I do wonder nonetheless.

This isn't about clearing my conscience or justifying the wrongs I've done because I was hurting, or any of that other blame shifting stuff. I just want to explore the possibility that things might have been easier in some regards. At some point I'll explore the possibility that things might have been worse, but that's a process for another day.

In trying to avoid victimhood I just sunk further into it, I rejected myself, rejected what I needed to heal. My desire to fit other people's narrative prevented me from seeing my own.

I'm not interested in that anymore. I need to walk through hell to get to the other side instead of just setting up camp and claiming I'm not a victim anymore.

Being a victim is an important part of my journey, letting myself feel what I need to feel, experience what I need to experience, and then move on in my own time. Because I will move on when I'm ready, I'm certain of that, but only once I've gone through the process. This is far more important than holding myself to a standard of where I, and other people, think I should be. I have to accept where I am now, where I was and where I will be.

#blog post #victim #mental health #labels #trauma #healing

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bookmarathon · 6 years

Text

2. the handmaid’s tale

“There is more than one kind of freedom. Freedom to and freedom from.”

rating: 8.8/10 veils

quick summary: In the near/far future, extremist Christians have taken over and forced women into subjugation. They can be Wives, Econowives, Handmaids, Marthas, or worst of all, Unwomen, but in any case they are intended to be silent and exist for men. Our protagonist, who’s been named Offred (because her Commander’s name is Fred), is a Handmaid, which means her job is to get pregnant by whoever her the Commander of her house is. She remembers a past before she was brought from house to house as a Handmaid, and even before she was indoctrinated at the Center - she remembers a husband, a daughter, and her best friend Moira. Offred has a complicated life with the other men and women in her house. She wants to rebel, but isn’t sure who to trust or if she quite has the nerve for it.

highs:

relevant & important themes about women and freedom

The reason I wrote near/far future in the quick summary was because it really does feel like it could be either. I can’t believe that Atwood wrote this book in 1984 and it still feels so modern, which is a testament to her writing but also to deep flaws in our society, sigh (whaddya know, there are still a lot of people who think women should just focus on having kids and be generally more quiet and demand less equality). The idea about freedom in the quote above is an interesting one that readers are asked to consider: that the more free will people are allowed to have, the less free they are of certain dangers. It’s also a chilling look at how fear can be used to manipulate people, to change the way they think and act. An extremist knows how to take a reasonable fear, like disease and contamination leading to less chances of pregnancy/successful births, and somehow make people believe that an unreasonable solution, like making women’s sole purpose to conceive and not allowing them to be distracted by other things like jobs and reading, is the only justifiable course of action. When a person lives a passive life, when they are defined by another person (in this case, men), it’s hard for them to have much power. What will people do to feel like they have power?

a thoughtful, sensitive, complex main character

The way Offred thinks is captivating. I love her habit of thinking in chains of random facts that she notes have no relation to each other. Her contemplations on whether she is in or out or even through time are also very memorable. The subjects that swim in and out of her thoughts constantly and the words she uses to think about them make her pain tangible. Additionally, I like that Offred wasn’t perfect. For example, the husband she reminisced on was the result of an affair. She also later (spoiler!) loses sight of her desire to escape when she starts to get attached to Nick. She’s not quite as bold or brave as her friend Moira, but she’s smart and endearing. She looks at situations and tries to think beyond her own perspective. She’s honest about her own emotions and doesn’t try to repress them even when they’re not quite so honorable. These kinds of main characters feel more real and more believable to me than selfless-hero types.

no one antagonist, imo

This kind of reminds of how after the Holocaust, people at every level of the Nazi Party said that they were just following orders, and it was kind of confusing as to how many levels down we thought they were appeased of guilt. It’s hard to pinpoint one specific antagonist here. Serena, or the Wives? Well, we can see why they’re bitter about being deemed useless as women. The Commander? For the most part he keeps to himself; when he interacts with the women it’s pretty much always dictated by laws intended to raise the population. He also tries to break the rules a little bit. Aunt Lydia, or another Aunt? Even though they’re enforcing and teaching terrible rules, there’s also just a level of pity for a woman who so frequently degrades women for a living. Even sadder if she truly believes it. All the other possible people at fault, the mysterious guards or Angels or higher-ups or whoever, aren’t really given a face or role in The Handmaid’s Tale. They feel far away. It seems like the people around Offred, whether they’re supporting her or conspiring against her, are just acting the way they are because that’s the only way they can bear to live. They need to convince themselves that they’re in control, that they have some power in this life, by pretending they are superior, or that they’re acting from a moral place, or removing themselves from seeing any consequences of their actions. There’s at least one point for every character in the novel I didn’t like when it seemed like they recognized what they were doing wasn’t right, but just tried to cope with the position they’d been given. There are so many different roles needed to maintain the current system of oppression, and I can’t pin the blame on just one person, so it sort of becomes like...everyone’s responsibility? Even Offred, a little bit, for letting herself become passive and accustomed to this way of life. But can we blame her, or any of them, for what they do? Who deserves more blame? I don’t think I can answer, and I like that, because it presents a more complex view of how such a terrible government could rise and retain power.

an ending that gives hope but not a definitive outcome

This is actually really embarrassing- I didn’t actually realize there was an epilogue to this book at first, so at first I actually docked a full point for the way it ended because I thought there was no resolution at all. I felt like the book would have been better if the van had either been to truly take her away and kill her, or if it had been part of the resistance. Like, I didn’t think it needed to go further than that, but I feel like the audience deserved to know that much - one choice would have sent a message maybe about the futility of resisting and importance of being careful, the other choice a message of hope for the future and peoples’s tendency to fight injustice. But when I found the epilogue that all changed! The epilogue is narrated by a keynote speaker at a convention about Gilead, past-tense. So this actually makes it okay that we don’t get to see what happens to Offred. That whether she did or didn’t get to be part of the resistance isn’t as important, because we know that somehow, some people did, because Gilead no longer exists. And her story is just one of many. I’m really satisfied with that ending. I don’t need books to tell me exactly what happens, but I like a sliver of resolution and I’m satisfied with this hope that people were able to break out of Gilead and make it something archaic, something to be studied.

lows:

slightly little confusing worldbuilding

I see the value of slowly acclimating a reader to a new world, but I wish The Handmaid’s Tale had been a little quicker. Perhaps a solid chunk explaining the Marthas, Econowives, Salvaging, etc.? I didn’t find myself fully confident that I’d grasped some of those concepts until near the late middle of the book. At that point it wasn’t fun to try and piece together clues in my mind anymore, it was just frustrating because I had vague ideas but I couldn’t be 100% certain they were right. I get that Offred wouldn’t have been like the narrator of the epilogue, someone who studied Gilead and could explain the society in a scholarly way, but I feel that it wouldn’t have been hard for Atwood to make it a little easier for us without taking away from Offred’s narrative.

tl;dr: This was a thought-provoking read. The power for me was more in the themes and ideas rather than any specific writing style. It was a little confusing at some points, but the message is strong and timely enough that it comes through even when you don’t understand all the details.

#bookblr #book review #book recs #books #the handmaid's tale #margaret atwood #offred #june?#moira #2/?#book marathon #book to book #back to back

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songofproserpine · 6 years

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Mass Effect, mental illness, and healing.

I’m replaying the Shepard trilogy, and this has been bouncing around my thoughts lately.

So in Mass Effect 2, Miranda says that part of The Lazarus Project was the very specific order of recreating Shepard exactly as they were, no exceptions. This includes their personality, their memories, etc. Ignoring questions like ‘how do you reconstruct someone’s mental structure, store it in a computer, and then transfer it to a mind you hope to make sentient,’ this leads me to the more interesting question of (1) does future technology and medical science in the Mass Effect universe have the ability to map brain chemistry to the point of knowing how one’s individual mind functions; and (2) what does this mean for mental illnesses?

While it’s highly unlikely that Shepard could have served if they had a serious mental illness prior to their service, it’s all but flat out said in the opening lines of Mass Effect 1 that Shepard has serious emotional scars. I.E., Shepard at the very least had a PTSD diagnosis depending on what military background you chose for them. And while PTSD is treatable through medication and therapy, it doesn’t seem to have barred Shepard from continuing their service in the Alliance. If anything, Shepard only advanced further, becoming the Normandy’s commander and eventual commanding officer once Anderson stepped down.

I will allow Bioware some dramatic license for this story, and Shepard is also constantly considered a person with “a remarkably strong will,” which means they can endure pain and hardships beyond what most would find tolerable. But just because someone has a “strong will” doesn’t mean they aren’t affected by pain and trauma--they could just keep it all inside and suffer quietly, which Shepard seems to do.

Much like a post I made about Fallout 4 and Nick Valentine’s human form (and how the pre-Institute MIT folks mapped out his brain prior to his death, and simply used that data to make synth Nick’s mind), what we have here is yet another case of someone being created (or resurrected) with a mental map that included mental illness... and that mental illness being programmed in. It wasn’t removed. It wasn’t treated as a flaw to eliminate. It was an integral part of that person’s mind and identity.

With Shepard, this is likely because of Miranda’s orders: Shepard had to be the exact same, no exceptions. But with Nick Valentine, I consider this especially brutal and unfair, because synth Nick wanted so very much to put human Nick’s memories and ghosts to rest. He wanted to build a life and live that life separate from the man he was built from. And this choice of his, while noble and fully valid, was made all the more difficult for him to do because of human Nick’s PTSD and survivor’s guilt being transferred over.

Make no mistake: I’m not saying The Lazarus Project should have eliminated any/all of Shepard’s lingering mental trauma, nor am I saying the Institute should have done something different (it’s very likely that they couldn’t, or just didn’t think it would matter). I myself have been diagnosed with PTSD--that’s why I’m so fascinated by the presence (or lack thereof) of mental illnesses in the video games I play, which are largely RPGs in scenarios where mental health and treatment are either nonexistent (Dragon Age, Elder Scrolls, Soulsborne), or very seldom remarked upon (Mass Effect, Fallout) unless it’s for a specific quest. What I am saying is that I wonder what this says to us who have mental illnesses, no matter what they are, and how we can use this narrative choice in video games as a way to change our perspective about these illnesses and the part they play in our identities?

My psychiatrist and I have weekly therapy sessions as part of my Dialectical Behavior Therapy. Very recently, we ended a session with a question that we’ll explore in later sessions: is it possible to practice acceptance and active healing at the same time? Acceptance in this scenario means acknowledging that while my situation and illnesses are not fair, that’s also what they are. I do not like that my life is so brutally sidetracked far too often by symptoms of my illnesses, or by the very existence of the illness itself. But that’s my life.

I wasted an entire decade of my life (all of my 20s) mourning and hating and being brutally ashamed that this was my lot in life, that it wasn’t fair, that I couldn’t be expected to endure all that my illnesses demanded of me on top of the normal things life asks of us all--but none of that thinking got me anywhere. It didn’t make me feel stronger, it didn’t encourage me, it didn’t offer answers or hope or anything useful in the slightest. If anything, it made me worse, to the point where my body was then literally wasting away and destroying itself because of my anxiety by the time I was 29. But I digress.

Back to the question and, eventually, Mass Effect and Commander Shepard. Acceptance of mental illnesses and living with them simply means you look your life square in the face and you accept it--you don’t judge it, you don’t question it, you don’t wonder how it could have been different. It’s not different. It’s your life--period. And it’s yours. That alone should make you want to cherish it. It might be hard, it might be frightening, it might be lonely and all other kinds of things--but it’s yours. No one else’s. And your life, and most especially your illnesses, needs your love.

We care for wounds without questioning why they dare hurt in the first place. We just tend to what hurts and wait until it heals. Why should we do any less to ourselves and our illnesses? That’s acceptance.

The second part--active healing--is trickier, and slower, and far more intricate a process than acceptance. It also requires you return to step one (acceptance) almost every single day. Or, if you’re like me, and have a mood disorder, every hour of every day, for the rest of your life--period. But all active healing really is, in the end, is looking at why acceptance was so hard for you and filling that in with love and care.

Active healing means you tend to your wounds. You get out of bed. You brush your teeth. You shower. You make food. You do chores. You go for a walk. You take your medication. You call your doctor if you feel like you need help outside of your appointments. You remove habits that no longer serve you in healthy, useful ways. You indulge in things you like to comfort yourself when you’re feeling down. You realize that you might need more time to do things, but that extra time doesn’t diminish the importance of what you do. You’re healing. You’re on the mend. You will always be recovering and repairing. This doesn’t have to be shameful or exhausting (even though it can be--but then you start back from acceptance and slowly work yourself back up). It just is.

Which, finally, returns me to Mass Effect 2, The Lazarus Project, and a resurrected Commander Shepard who has their military background include a deep emotional scar added into the mix of the very current emotional scar of having died in space. Jacob tells you that you were “just meat and tubes” the first time he saw you. You weren’t a corpse--you were pieces of a corpse. And you were remade from every atom--including your illnesses. Including your wounds, private hurts that only you ever felt or knew about.

How would this make you feel?

How would you feel about this life, this second pass through the universe, this mulligan on oblivion that pulled you back to this ol’ mortal coil? Angry, undoubtedly. It’s why renegade Shepard in Mass Effect 2 is something of a raging vicious psychopath--but I can’t quite blame them. not really.

Remember the musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer? When Buffy finally lets slip that she wasn’t in hell, suffering--she was in some kind of heaven? She was happy. She was at peace. And her friend dragged her soul back to its body, forcing her to dig her own way out of her grave, back to life, before she suffocated and died once again. She got her life back, but was never asked if she wanted it back.

That’s Commander Shepard in Mass Effect 2. That’s baseline commander shepard in Mass Effect 2.

Now imagine a mentally ill Shepard having to bear this burden. I’m not questioning whether or not Shepard could endure it (you’ve probably played the trilogy--you know the answer to that question). I’m simply asking you to imagine it. Imagine a marine of whom the galaxy, the entire galaxy, demanded everything. Every thankless task, every brutal mission, every hard choice, every life-altering, life-threatening, life-shortening thing possible under every sun. Imagine a marine lying in a pool of their own blood being told, “it didn’t work,” and their response is, “what do you need me to do?”

What do you need me to do? That, my friends, is the central question of acceptance and active healing. What do you need me to do? Ask your illnesses this when times are tough, or even when times are good. What do you need me to do? Maybe your brain wants to trick you every now and then. Slips in an invasive thought, or a self-destructive demand. Maybe it tries to sell you on a suspicion, building up to full-scale paranoia. These are not things you should feed into; they aren’t actions you should take. More pain will not serve you. Hurting yourself in any way is not the answer to an already existing pain.

Acceptance. Active healing. What do you need me to do? Assess your damage, know that pain will always be integral to your existence, but is by no means the only thing that defines it, and figure out how to respond to it.

Instead of looking at your traumas, your symptoms, your triggers, your anythings as flaws, as failures, as setbacks, as things to hate and be ashamed of, look at it as a part of you in need of care, and ask, What do you need me to do?

And remember this last piece of advice: be kind. Because even after destruction, Commander Shepard took just one more breath--one more small gasp of life. And sometimes that’s all you can ask of yourself: just one more breath. And then another. And another. This is probably the hardest lesson anyone with an illness will ever have to learn: you are healing. You will always be healing. You will always have to take just one more breath. Because that’s what you need to do for you. No one else.

So breathe.

#mass effect #mental illness #borderline personality disorder #ptsd #nick valentine #fallout 4

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benlangham-digital-storytelling · 3 years

Text

Noise (WIP)

Professional Development Plan:

I've decided during the Professional Development Plan (PDP) section of our initial digital storytelling seminar that it would be beneficial to identify areas within the module itself and external long term goals alongside.

PDP are broken down into sections, they are as follows:

Self Assessment

Goals

Strategies

Resources

A Timeline

Personal - External - PDP:

In regards to external planning and not as focused on the digital storytelling module. I have found that through current assessment that a keen interest revolves around internet technologies. Key ones being Reactjs, Gatsbyjs, Node, Sanity CMS. These technologies are of particular interest and constant focus.

Current goals in regards to these specific technologies revolve around an increase in fluency with all the mentioned technologies. Having a solid foundation of how each application interacts with each other. The highest priority goal focuses on furthering my understanding of Sanity CMS and Gatsby, using GraphQL for querying the backend data and serving it within the Gatsby frontend application.

In terms of strategies for better fluency within each technology I have set a number of tasks that continue to utilise all technologies, building a number of fully functional customisable websites with dynamic data served from Sanity CMS. I have also recently begun learning Typescript and using it in varying degrees throughout each of my personal projects. So the list seems to grow ever longer as projects progress.

Using modules within university has allowed me to further implement these strategies creating applications using these key technologies. Having structured assessment briefs has made it easier to plan projects that fit the specifications and allow for the inclusion of the mentioned internet technologies.

In regards to a timeline, it feels more like a rolling development, with new additions to each technology and the discovery of other technologies within. I'm aiming to have completed my own personal website by the end of the month, utilising Gatsby and Sanity CMS. With the confidence hopefully gained from completing this project, I will be helping a number of friends with creating their websites and adding this functionality.

Smart Goal - Summary:

Towards the end of February I will have completed my personal website that will be deployed using Gatsby and Sanity CMS, I will then be marketing myself as a Jamstack developer. Initially working on projects for friends to reinforce the knowledge of both technologies. I will also be continuing to develop my knowledge of Typescript during this time. A constant focus will be on continued motivation and the quality of the end product.

Module - PDP:

In regards to the current module attempting to create a smart goal is not as straightforward. Currently struggling to decide on if it is beneficial to move away from internet technologies and look at either game story development or digitally rendered animations. So for this section I have decided to focus on rendered animations.

I think it would be interesting to try something different from my external PDP and Goals. In this environment I would want to achieve a digitally rendered animated short, using key technologies such as Cinema4D and Octane Renderer.

Initial goals would focus around making sure I was comfortable with each application, I have had some previous experience with both applications so hopefully this would not be too difficult. Next would focus on understanding the type of story I would want to tell and the feasibility of achieving this.

I would need to carefully consider hardware limitations for rendering something of this complexity. Also my lack of knowledge when it comes to rendering animations using these applications.

I would attempt to utilise some of the computers available through the university to help with rendering time. Also speaking to a number of friends who use both of these applications heavily will hopefully help improve my knowledge during the module.

A timeline is difficult to establish considering the early stages of the module. I will look at this later once the feasibility has been addressed.

Smart Goal - Summary:

By the end of next week I will have decided on my chosen path and attempted to address the feasibility and practicality of the project. Making careful consideration of the hardware and knowledge implications of taking on a project like this.

Outline of the concept:

youtube

Github: https://github.com/blanghamm/noiseapp

The concept for Noise focuses on an adaptation of existing stories or more accurately a removal of narrative techniques from news articles. News articles, video, interviews are employed to help add some coherence to world events. Noise takes this well used format and attempts to remove it, by taking information curated by news outlets and adding back in the chaotic nature that they are sculpted from. The initial concept for Noise focused around the idea of a 3D space created with the use of three.js to help facilitate an artistic deconstruction of coherent stories. It would employ other narrative techniques, such as audio to help convey the chaotic nature of most news stories. How information is collated and delivered in a more streamlined way. Helping viewers to digest news articles without feeling overwhelmed. There has been a recent shift in how digital technologies influence modern news delivery, with online content using more interactive forms of delivery. This shift doesn’t necessarily add any chaos back into each story but does show a shift in narrative techniques. I was keen to explore this shift in delivery methods during this project, but with a greater focus on removing a lot of narrative techniques along the way.

Target Audience:

I think the main area I was attempting to target during this project was a combination of digital art enthusiasts and those seeking a new way to engage with news. Facilitating a concept that could be delivered in an installation style would engage those seeking new artistic output. The possibility with the piece would be that each week of news could be curated, updating the piece and keeping it up to date. Thus engaging those seeking to view news unconventionally. When researching the project I found that a lot of interest from audience members was generated due to their shared interest in the technology. A section of the project's target audience would be generated from the community already leveraging the primary technology [Three.js].

Technologies:

In terms of the project's technology stack, it featured a number of Javascript libraries, a number of them being familiar. The bulk of the app would be created within Three.js, a WebGL library that allowed for the creation of 3D scenes. This was then incorporated into a React.js app using a library called React-Three-Fiber. It helped in removing a lot of the Three.js boilerplate code helping to speed up development. The project was also originally intended to leverage Tone.js to generate real-time audio within the project. During the project's development I had intended to use Typescript, but I quickly found that this hindered the speed of the project's development. Luckily Typescript can be gradually added to the project so it was easy to use sparingly. The project was managed using Git, a link is available at the top of this post. I found during development that the scope of the project required a lot of asset creation, this caused some performance issues that meant some aspects needed to be reduced. For example, the amount of available nodes rendered on screen could cause some slowdown. They were eventually reduced. Three.js does offer some modules to help combat performance issues. Allowing you to create instanced objects to help reduce load.

Design:

Overall the project's design and technical implementation was rather unscripted, trying to adhere to the project concept regarding chaotic regurgitation of news. I found during development that this meant the majority of the work was experimentation. During the later stages of the project it was important to try and realign the design of the project. Looking at data concepts, I have included some inspiration. To some extent I think lack of concrete design for the project did hinder the development, trying to experiment with randomisation throughout. It was enjoyable but I found that it was difficult to visualise exactly what I wanted from the project. Overall I think the technologies chosen were perfect for the project but a lack of design preparation led to development sometimes feeling a little aimless.

Critical Reflection:

In terms of what went well during the project, I found my understanding of the concept was well justified, focusing on adapting modern narrative techniques for a more artistic output. I enjoyed the chosen technologies leveraged during the project but felt my technical understanding was limited during the process. Towards the end of the project's development the lack of concrete design made the process very frustrating. This coupled with the large scope of the project was ultimately detrimental to the prototype. The current state of the project being nowhere near the level that I had intended at the beginning of the module. Tone.js was meant to be included within the project but ultimately that was not something I could include due to poor planning and execution. For the future potential of the project it could work very well as a new way of experiencing news, having a curator delivering weekly news updates via the application. Currently though the state of the application would not be able to facilitate this. Personally I am very disappointed with the outcome and quality of the project, the initial concept seemed strong and exciting. However, during development my personal motivation and lack of concrete designs caused the application to fall short of the concept.

Audience Evaluation Plan:

I think in regards to an audience evaluation it would have been very beneficial to use something like the AXE method early on. Helping to nail down how the audience felt about the concept and shape the project's design. Then taking those who have participated in the early concept modelling and once a prototype had been created invoke a Self-Confrontation interview to understand the changes that had occurred during development. Using a combination of these methods would allow for a more rounded evaluation of what the project needed.

https://threejs.org/

https://reactjs.org/

https://tonejs.github.io/

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life-observed · 4 years

Text

Musings from The Strangest Year on Earth

Confronting

2019 into 2020 was arguably the hardest year of my life in perhaps the most unspectacular of ways. There was no defining incident, no dramatic high point, just a lot of glowing embers waiting patiently for the wind to catch so they could burn my house to ash.

I am what one could call a chronic avoider. A runner, a hider and often (it felt), someone who lacked the ability to endure. The problem here, as you can imagine is that no matter how far you run, there is no getting away & the further I ran, the harder it was to turn around and confront the thing I was trying to outrun. I ran out of energy towards the end of the year, and when it finally caught up with me, I felt like I was out of options. I couldn’t run anymore, and I lacked the fortitude to fight. Lenka has a song called Trouble is A Friend. In it she sings, “I won’t let him in, but I’m a sucker for his charm”. The truth is, while I do not enjoy being depressed, there is something safe in knowing what to expect. So, I let it pick me up and hold me close to its cheek; large and looming, but strangely comforting in its familiarity. I had been here before, and all I had to do was wait it out until it put me down, and let me walk beside it, holding my hand until I inevitably started to get the itch to run again.

Seeing Colors

Depression is an old friend, but I had never seen it like this. For the first time, I started seeing colors in my mind’s eye; a way to give tangibility to the intangible. When it first caught up with me, I saw things through a grey fog. It was like I could see my life, but everything was grey and hazy. This I was used to. I was anticipating the slow return of color to the edges that would work its way towards the middle, and when it didn’t come, what was once an old, familiar place suddenly felt foreign and very empty. The loneliness I felt here was unparalleled. Not only had I spent the past year physically isolating from relationships I had held near & dear, now the one thing I thought I could count on was changing before my eyes. I started waking up and seeing the same scene in my head every day. A dark, angry orange sky over a cracked, dusty ground with no sign of life anywhere: dead trees and a stifling sort of silence. It was in this sky that I lost the ability to recognize my face in the mirror. When I looked at myself, it was the first time in my life that I saw a very sad stranger looking back at me. I removed pictures of myself from messaging apps, social media. I couldn’t stand to look at myself, so unrecognizable, so much like a ghost. Under this sky, I felt myself giving up.

Endurance

I say the following as a fact — not a cause for alarm. I have thought about dying a lot. It’s a thought that has come to me unbidden, even at the strangest times. One of the most frightening experiences was driving home after a wonderful two day vacation with people who I love and care for dearly, having spent the whole weekend feeling like I was trapped in a glass box. I could see things, hear things, but inside was quiet and airless. On the drive home, I remember thinking how much easier it would be to just open the car door on the highway and roll right out. I don’t doubt for a minute that I would never actually follow through, because the desire to no longer exist felt separate and removed from the desire to actually kill myself– I was just so tired. But I let it pass. At the very worst of it this year, it was no longer a given that I could just wait it out and land on my feet. Increasingly, the fear was growing that this would be the one I wouldn’t come back from. Right as I had started what felt like the final descent, my long time therapist reached out to me to say I’d been on her mind. And, at the end of my rope, I began what has turned into my longest, most consistent therapy work to date. I also went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with moderate to severe depression — and put me on anti- depressants which was terrifying, to say the least. I have never been great with consistency in medication, and again, the uncertainty of how long I would need them for was almost too much to wrap my head around. But what else did I have to do? Whether I took the meds or not, the time would pass anyhow. I surprised myself with how consistent I became with the medication, and today I am unsure how I would have fared had I not started. While it would be great to see an immediate shift in mood and circumstance, the truth is, what it did was lift the fog just a little bit at a time to give me a chance to catch my breath, to orient myself towards the way out. And before I realized it, 3 months had passed, and I was still standing — albeit exhausted and worn down but standing I was.

The Truth about Therapy

Endurance is one thing — we survive, swinging one day to the next until our feet touch some sort of solid ground, but what comes after? It’s like longing for a million dollars and then being unsure what to do with it when it lands in your lap. We rarely think about the in between that takes you from the depths to a relatively safer ground. Therapy is not just talking about your feelings for an hour. I find it neither comfortable, nor easy. If I have been to 20 sessions over the last 5 months, I have left 15 of them feeling worse than when I arrived. As a rule, I usually attend therapy until I am over the hump and then “get too busy” or decide it’s too much money and then fall off. It’s an avoidance technique, and I wasn’t quite sure what I was avoiding until I pushed through the first month.

Being in therapy has been painful and exposing — which is frightening to one such as myself who fears hurt and detests uncontrolled vulnerability. Strange as it may seem given the existence of these utterings, but here, I control the narrative. I can erase, delete and do anything I want with this piece. Real time vulnerability is a lot different. A working (and still not quite fully comprehensible) diagnosis for me is Social Anxiety Disorder with a little bit of OCD & Body Dysmorphic Disorder thrown in for some razzle dazzle. The SAD was easy enough to relate to, because the hallmarks of that disorder have run my life for as long as I can remember. The OCD was a little harder to accept and understand, because up until then, the only thing I knew about OCD was the familiar tropes you see in movies or books — hyper organization, rituals etc. The diagnoses aren’t really the point though. What I finally understood was: the behaviors & patterns that I have mulishly clung to for YEARS as a way to “protect” myself, are rooted in these disorders, and though they may be common, they are not all together normal.

Imagine then, being forced to look at your life and realize that you have years and years of learned behavior to undo. It is exhausting, and frankly, quite difficult. Habits are habits for a reason — they are second nature, even the bad ones. Especially the ones that you’ve convinced yourself are there to protect you and keep you safe. My thoughts operate in extremes — I am either immediately 100% successful at something and anything less is a failure. Though neither practical, nor possible, it makes the very concept of therapy difficult, because who’s ever undone a lifetime worth of warped beliefs in one session? The constant need for perfection & the subsequent failure to achieve the impossible is the albatross around my neck that makes it hard to celebrate even the small wins, because for me, it is all or nothing. It can be discouraging to go week after week, to spend thousands of dollars feeling like absolutely no progress is being made. Recently, I have found myself dragging to go, partially because I am terrified to see the things that still lie beneath, and partially because I feel like I am failing at therapy and therefore failing at life.

But I continue to go, because more important than enduring the storm with cracks in my hull is repairing them so I’m not springing leaks at every turn. The cracks are plentiful — some are beyond comprehension, some are heartbreaking, some are logic defying, & many days I am confronted with how these cracks rear their ugly heads at the most inconvenient times. I continue to go because I see the ways in which my unchecked mental illness has disrupted my life, and taken a toll on my relationships. I continue to go because though painful and some days heart-wrenching, it is the first time in years that I have felt the possibility of not walking around like a ticking time bomb, always one second from total destruction.

The Truth about Myself

So, what does this mean for me? It means that however dramatic it may seem, I have fought for my life, and continue to do so every single day. Some days are better than others — some weeks feel like a total regression and it’s hard to fight the impulse to engage in old habits. Sometimes I catch myself after the fact. The things I battle with are neither novel nor exciting, but still, they are mine. & while pride in myself is not something I am particularly familiar with, there is at least some satisfaction in knowing that the power to endure lies within me, even when I am certain I have nothing left to give.

Fear has run my life for as long as I can remember, and it would be an outright lie to say it no longer does, because I don’t do well with uncertainty, and fear has given me the illusion of keeping safe from the risks that come with being human and living vs. merely existing. Though I am still very much afraid of a lot of things, I have caught a glimpse of how having the upper hand over fear can pay off, even though I persist in my wrongness 9 times out of 10. Even though some days, I let my head get the best of me.

Yet still, I endure.

#depression #journal #fear #anxiety #writing #human #therapy #endurance

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