#more on introspection

[asteropewpew]

dearest shooting star 🌠

loving anaxagoras felt similar to the momentary awe whenever you spot a shooting star. that quick, brilliant flash of light streaking across the midnight sky, so vivid and arrogantly defiant against the moon.

i shine brighter than you, it would say to the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating the late night. this shooting star was so bright that it seemingly cut a large swathe across like very definite sword strike, all the while burning up the rest of itself during the end of their cosmic journey. so look only at me.

"Your students looked quite... apoplectic." You look observed, tone filled with knowing amusement as you watched his students amble their way out of his classroom with varying expressions of frustration. Or in some cases, with a look of absolute vengeance. "A lively morning earlier then, yes?"

Anaxagoras doesn't quite chuckle, but the small, involuntary huff as his lips curved slightly in smug glee gives away his current sentiment regarding his students. His form tilted slightly forward as he turned to face you, a pair of vivid seafoam eyes gleaming brightly with all the knowledge and intellect that captivated your attention like a treacherous lure.

It's both fortunate and unfortunate (for your heart), that your own class ends at just around the time that his class ends—with the bell tolling overhead to signal the students to do a self-study session (or exchange shared moments of misery) at numerous amphitheaters or at the central library of the Grove.

"As always, our class ended with another debate."

"About the gods, Professor?"

"Naturally." Given his rather vocal stance as a blasphemer, it was no surprise that his students had seen fit to challenge him to yet another debate. More likely in hopes to humble him rather than commit to any intellectual exchange, you mused. "And as always, they are infuriated whenever I poke out the holes in their arguments."

"Their collective spite would end up with you getting killed one day, you know?" A lie. For as notorious as Anaxagoras had been in criticizing the actions of the Flame-Chase Journey right alongside, his students had somehow decided that he was deserving of their gifts and...other knick knacks that you were most definitely sure were priceless antiques.

Poor Hyacine who's been given more work by the rising mess around his office, no doubt. Although Anaxagoras' new student named Phainon had been mentioned as some sort of precious antique collector and appraiser, which made organizing things much easier, if any.

"If they commit as much dedication to verbally eviscerate me on court trials and debates, they should focus it on their thesis proposals." The sneer in his face made your lips quirk into a smile.

"You should really stop goading your cute little students, Professor Anaxagoras."

He opened his mouth, likely retorting his favorite correction before realization caught his would-be misstep. The small "tch" made your smile widen even as he shot you a warning glare, not missing your clear attempt at throwing him off despite following his numerous insistence regarding the matter with his name. "Telling me how to handle my students now, Professor?"

It should feel criminal how your name comes out of his mouth in a slow, lilting drawl. Almost indulging, if you were to entertain your own fanciful whispers.

"Just a word of advice as a fellow lecturer." But his unimpressed look told you as much about just how convincing your excuse is.

loving anaxagoras felt like loving a shooting star. there is joy in catching that moment of fleeting beauty across the sky, knowing that it would forever be different from any other shooting stars in the world. but like all things, even shooting stars are unforgiving towards their admirers.

they were utterly beautiful in their destruction, the broken fragments carrying with it such a devastating power that perhaps a part of you would break in return; echoing the shatter of a brilliant celestial body with your own hapless heart.

"What did you do?" You rushed to ask, voice trembling ever so slightly as you looked at the ragged exhaustion across Anaxagoras' face.

"Merely created something that puts us in equal standing with the gods." He sounded victorious, as if the price of his triumph wasn't riddled with blood and pain. Anaxagoras looked inappropriately disheveled, clothes rumpled and singed at some of the hems—pale blue hair clinging to his face that was full of grime and sweat and a few cuts here and there. "And I have succeeded in finally making it useable."

There are tremors in his hands, visible ones and you couldn't take your eyes away from the inflamed skin where the bright red of the Philosopher's stone adorned his right hand. Instantly, you feel the impossibly heavy weight of his trust in allowing you inside his personal alchemical laboratory.

There's a myriad of things that you could say to him, and yet all of it would make you nothing more than a hypocrite who allowed the one that you cherished most to completely ruin himself in pursuit of knowledge. All those years that had you faithfully shadowing him in his unquenchable thirst for answers, barely managing to reel him back just in time before he truly hurtled towards the deep end.

All those years of endless exasperation and countless debates as you hurried to catch up to him, all of it cultivated into biting back down a few choices of words directed at his dangerous recklessness. "Really? Treating yourself so poorly while you're in an experimental binge doesn't quite count as a logical course of action."

You hurriedly knelt down beside him as you brought out a roll of fresh bandages from your satchel, and he was mindful enough to not give you much grief as he obediently placed his trembling hands in your hands.

"Am I ever in danger with my own experiments?" His retort made you purse your lips as you carefully started tending to his wounds, a deep frown crossing your face for all that your hands remained gentle in treating his injuries.

The silence that followed, was a little stifled. Even with you, as immersed in your irritation and worries, didn't fail to notice the tension lining over his shoulders.

"This won't be the last." In the end, it was Anaxagoras who broke the silence, sounding a little gruff as he ducked his head to avoid your gaze. "I still need to find the answers to my new questions... far too many thing—"

"Be that as it may," you interrupted his halfhearted reasons with a pointed glare, "you are still expected to teach your own students instead of passing all them off to me every time you get possessed in doing your experiments!"

He tilted his head in consideration, as if only belatedly recalling that he had spent longer in his laboratory than he had expected.

"The brats should know better than compare you with me." The stupid, foolish, heretic scholar with one of the sharpest minds of today, missed your very non-subtle show of concern. Amazing. Truly a mind of the ages indeed. "And besides, you're the only one that wouldn't revise my lesson plan without consulting me first. Or make those impressionable students learn something that they shouldn't waste their time."

"No, I just want to get them off me because I'm tired of grading forty students every week on two different subjects."

"..." The foolish professor didn't even try to object, knowing better than to test your limits.

You also refrained from pointing out that his students have this weird tendency to debate with any professors that even dared to make them stray off his meticulous curriculum, for all that they are keen to put him through the wringer for at least once before they could graduate. "No personal laboratory time for at least a while."

"You can't possibly demand that of me."

The smile on your face dared him to argue any further than this. "I believe Hyacine would appreciate being notified of your... occupational injuries."

There's another beat of silence, but it was a little easier this time. Familiar.

Although your worries still made your chest grow tight, his disgruntled look soothed something within you as he obediently tilted his head up for you to dab at the small cuts and abrasions across his face.

Even more, the victory was sweeter when Anaxagoras eventually grumbled in defeat.

loving anaxagoras felt a little like condemning yourself to watching the fleeting destruction of a shooting star. you, a criminal who was sentenced to chase and watch the one that you loved the most, meet his own end with the most joyous laugh that you've heard from him.

anaxagoras who would completely burn up himself upon reaching the zenith of his journey, content in defying the tranquility of the evening night in a blaze of brilliant light. the false sky, as he had claimed, with eyes sparkling like the simulated constellations in the astronomy laboratory where alchemy fabricates a sky without the threat of aquila's temperamental gaze.

how you wanted, to valiantly preserve that shine without losing the brilliance that belonged to anaxagoras and his endless curiosity. except he was the kind of person who was never meant to be caged, confined and conforming to conventional ideas.

because he was always and foremost, meant to be free.

(and you could only hope that he can come back to you from time to time, if his time permits it; which was a factor that was slowly getting dwindling with each passing day.)

...Perhaps you'd have known it then, that he wouldn't simply just stop at embedding a Philosopher's stone in his right hand. That nothing could truly ever satiate his thirst in finding out the intricacies wrapped around Amphoreus and the ever-enduring Flame-Chase journey.

That he would embody your most favorite celestial body in all its vivid, and gut-wrenching beauty like this.

"Anaxa—are you crazy?!"

You saw him, slumped over the pillars of the central table while the contents in his personal laboratory which looked as if a veritable storm had swept upon it. Potions and vials lay shattered all over the ground, his alchemical gun lying innocuously beside him while numerous papers full of almost unrecognizable scrawls were scattered on the floor.

For a brief, frightening moment, you feared the worst.

"My name...is Anaxa...goras," he rasped after a moment, lone eye a little dull and unfocused as he struggled to recollect his thoughts when you rushed over to him. "Do not...call me Anaxa."

"And very soon, those words will be your last words if you don't get to the Courtyard as fast you can!" Panic was laced in your voice as you tried to check whether he had any debilitating injuries that require a mad dash to the Courtyard.

(Thin. He's thinner again.)

"This is a...culmination of my life's research and a milestone...regarding my capabilities," he argued, wheezing as he bared his teeth in an attempt to hide his pain when he tried to shift his position as you carefully prodded at his form.

"Which would be utterly useless if you don't make a patent of it while you're still alive," you snapped, finally letting out a breath when your preliminary search yielded nothing but a couple of bruises and symptoms of dehydration alongside exhaustion. "Have you truly decided to throw your life away like the foolish blasphemer that you are?"

Ever since he came back from that one conversation with Empedocles after he'd lost his eye, you know that he was a little different.

Sharper perhaps, much more intense as he had been before. Yet he looked perpetually weary, for all that his back stood tall and unwavering while handing out criticisms and advice for his students and fellow scholars.

As if he was always desperately running towards something that remained just out of reach.

"Why...do you care anyway? You're always so...meddlesome." The question made your heart grow still. It felt like being in the middle of Aidonia's harshest snowstorm, the wind howling at your foolishness for daring to even hope. "Don't you understand...why I must...do this?"

He is so thoughtlessly cruel at times, your dearest shooting star.

"I can't accept that what you're doing is so important that you would throw away your entire life for it." You didn't beg, but all of your emotions saturated each and every word. "Please, just take a break, Anaxagoras. There is time. You have time."

"Nothing is more important than seeing the Truth...of the false sky." His voice was hoarse, yet unwavering with the weight of his own conviction and obsessive desire. "And proving that...the Flame-Chase journey is not so linear in its approach. Everything else...was just an afterthought."

"Perhaps I had thought too highly of our time spent together." It hurt, when you could sense nothing but the genuine truth laced in his words. He's definitely suffered some sort of altered mental status right now, but it did little to lessen the sting. "And that my effort towards a dear colleague and companion, was nothing more than a show of charity in your eyes."

Anaxagoras didn't speak, nor did he even need to, as he had finally passed out in abject exhaustion and pain-filled sleep.

(Perhaps it was the best, that he couldn't hear the bitter disappointment in your voice.)

You allowed yourself a look, a last glance, feeling like you've swallowed knives with each indication of self-neglect over his form. His clothes were bigger than it should be on him, not to the point of fright but enough just to indicate how much he's foregone sustenance at least multiple times. Likewise, there's a clear expression of exhaustion in his face. His clothes were disheveled, likely from his latest stunt more than an unconscious habit—but he looked utterly... small in that moment.

It would be easy to hate him. To rage and hate his foolishness, the ease in how he discarded his own present in favor of crafting a future that he had decided that was not his to see. The sheer hypocrisy by how passionate he was in insisting the sanctity of life and autonomy over "misguided notions" of honor and obligation, when each of his choices had contributed to his eventual ruin.

But you couldn't.

Despite all your frustrations and concerns, you never would be able to hate him for as much as you cherish him.

You know you were not so important as to be able to anchor his feet, but you can't help but wish you were.

loving anaxa meant suffering from daring to attempt that you could handle the intensity of a shooting star. it's like being a moth drawn to his vibrant flame, helplessly oblivious to the eventual agony of being burned alive.

you loved still loved your shooting star who had captivated your attention so tightly, before he spirited your heart away from your hands without any intention of returning it. nor even trying to take care of it.

anaxagoras was a great many things, but he was also utterly oblivious at the best of times. you should have created a boundary with him early on, to rein in your feelings as soon as your traitorous heart thundered at the sight of his bright, satisfied smile.

(but you didn't. and equally hurt and filled you with humility for every time you could see a part of anaxa that perhaps few or rather, none had ever been privy to see it.)

your blasphemer was always meant for great things, regardless if he would be scorned or admired for his actions.

and you could only watch and try to help him when he has burned himself too early in his journey towards searching for the truth of this world.

the astronomy laboratory was one of your favorite ventures, and you keep to your silence even as the door opened to welcome the familiar clack of footsteps coming towards the center of the laboratory.

"...I didn't know that there's someone using the astronomy laboratory."

"It's occupied." your voice was clipped, sparing only the barest words as you didn't bother to turn around and acknowledge the illustrious anaxagoras. there was a brief pause, before you heard a rustling sound as he carefully sat down beside you.

ever since that day, when you had rushed anaxagoras into the courtyard after he had collapsed, you decided to keep your distance. a futile attempt at drawing a boundary when you've already reached a point in no return, but you held strong even when hyacine had cautiously asked if you would like to visit him even just once.

it was more for your sake than his, and you were confident that he wouldn't even notice—for all that he's dedicated his focus and attention to his dogged pursuit of the truth.

"You weren't present to the general meeting with all the Professors." it took everything in you not to flinch when you felt the weight of his gaze on the side of your face.

"I was busy." you were very much grateful that the darkness hid much of your expression as you drew your knees close to yourself.

"Busy with what?" he probed, because he never did have a sense of self-restraint when it comes to satiating his curiosity. "Hyacine told me that you asked to be relieved of another class to handle. And that you also applied for a...sabbatical leave."

the latter sentence echoed his mystified confusion, the notion of a vacation apparently being a foreign one to the foolish scholar.

"I'm accompanying Hyacine and Phainon on their usual visit back to Okhema." there, that should be enough to get him off your back and leave.

except it doesn't.

"You've never shown any interest in leaving the Grove for that holy city." it was evident how poorly he had regarded the capital with the eternal light, and you've heard his sentiments regarding a certain chrysos heir residing in the city often enough to understand his position.

but you didn't care much for that.

what pricked at your still smarting heart was—

"I don't need to report to you nor justify any of my actions to you for anything, Professor Anaxagoras." you replied, voice chillingly cold and void of your hurt as much as you can. "As you have made yourself quite clear on my interference to your pursuit of knowledge."

There was another pause, the fabric of his coat rustling as he abruptly moved closer to you.

"That day when you rushed me into the courtyard," his voice was faintly urgent, promptly you to finally give a glance at his pinched expression with a carefully distant look. except the faint unease within his piercing eyes made your traitorous heart flutter once again. "Did I say anything?"

this close, you could see that hyacine's work had lessened the exhaustion and overall gauntness of the scholar's face. despite you still childishly holding on to your anger, you felt a tension within you finally relax.

"Nothing but the truth, Professor." it was maddening, how your anger was quietly doused by seeing just how much he had recovered (even if you could still sense an air of weariness around him).

"That's not—" anaxagoras tsked, ever astute in deducing a hint from your response. "I said something."

you kept silent, because you refuse to be considered a puzzle where he would look for clues to satisfy his own questions. no, it would hurt you far too much if he treated what had happened as nothing more than a logical problem to be straightened out.

(it would be like holding out your still mending heart for him to destroy.)

"Whatever it was, it was enough for you to refuse a visit to me at the ward." the intensity in his gaze proved too much, and you ducked your head to look away from him. you saw his hand make an aborted move towards you, before it stopped and curled into a tight fist. "It happened when you caught me in my personal laboratory, and I was cognizant enough to respond but not enough to retain the memories of our brief interaction before you brought me to the Courtyard. You're angry. And I hurt you."

your foolish scholar had known nothing but the thorny path that would lead to his goals, and it was your own foolish decision to chase after him like a persistent shadow. in the end, everything can be traced back to your own decision to accompany him for so long—like that hapless moth who was drawn to the raging inferno that was anaxagoras the blasphemer.

you knew that he would change the world, at any and at all costs. even if the damning price was to ruin himself in the process.

"What did I say?" he asked again and... abruptly, you felt very tired.

forget it.

"It's alright," you murmured, finally looking up to give him a lopsided smile. don't worry, went unheard. "It was...my fault more than yours."

there was another pause again, before he spoke again.

"I am in need of a...companion for Hyacine to finally relinquish her watch on me." he said, stumbling over a particular word while you gave an inquiring hum.

you like to think that you know the undertone of his statement. don't go.

but you never truly left him, even in the height of your anger and hurt. hyacine would never fail to give you updates regarding his wellbeing and any additional expenses quietly paid for by you (under the guise of an anonymous benefactor), and combined with her stubbornness and the threat of making ika sit on his chest was enough for him to veer off from going back to his laboratory far too soon.

"...I can do that." it would be another story if you saw his main table and be reminded of how you initially saw him, but that was a thing for the future.

his shoulders slumping over slightly made a smile finally crack across your face, and he swiftly closed the remaining distance to rest his weight against yours.

"Good." and he sounded like he meant it.

you know that anaxagoras doesn't apologize for his actions, not because of pride but because he would not regret any of the actions that he had made. that each of his actions were driven with a purpose that would ultimately bring him closer to his goals.

when his hand carefully rested above yours after a while, the warmth spoke more than his clumsy attempts at making it for his apparent misstep. you gazed back upon the twinkling constellations, with the weight of anaxagoras' presence sitting close to your side.

your shooting star, if only for a moment, paused in his relentless pursuit to accompany you for the night.

it wasn't quite an apology, but it was more than enough.

(p.s. first time trying to do this so please tell me your thoughts? would you also want an anaxa pov to compliment this hehe)

[asterdust]

.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy one year anniversary to In Stars and Time!

[secretly-a-trekkie]

usghsduhfiaofh

[possiblycringe]

Sometimes I wonder how Akechi felt being on the other end of the encounter with a cornered animal.

[rosedproblems]

Tumblr please for the love of god, find étoile. I just know you’ll all be swooning over Tobias and loving Cheyanne just like I have. Please, I’m not a content creator and I need content. Help a girl out

[crustyfloor]

On Till’s (general emotional journey), his place in the karmic cycle occurring in Alien Stage’s ending, how he subverts the cruelty of self-punishment into a journey of personal growth, self-reflection, and gentle closure

And the reconciliation with Ivan that he never got to have

——

(Pretty long post )

All Panels from the "Remember everything" comic are a fan translation by @/ka_akeakamai

All panels from the "Scars" comic are a fan translation by @/manipuIatedstar

Ivan and Till's relationship has miscommunication and misunderstanding threaded into every aspect of their story. It eventually becomes tragic and pitiful when you realize they would've been so different if only they were more honest and understood each other better, especially with the examples that will be shown in this post

This foundation set for their relationship then planted the seeds for the actions that will induce a consequence (for Till's karma), as is the principle applied to the karmic cycle that says every action will come with a consequence [ a search for atonement]

The meteor shower was the seed, the "catalyst" for Ivan and Till's earliest development and dynamic shift, one of the "causes"-- when Till turned back and ran to the garden without a word Ivan didn't notice his hesitance, to put it into Ivan's perspective, he internalized this moment by assuming the situation would be better off if he no longer imposed his feelings on Till like before [Ivan's emotional expression has always been shown in the way he provoked Till or stuck by his side constantly,] If Till really preferred going back to the garden where he would continue to suffer just to be with Mizi-- to Ivan it proved that he wasn't truly wanted, he didn't mean as much to Till as he might've hoped for. (In short, Ivan took it as a rejection of his feelings as a whole.)

In the aftermath, Ivan didn't dissapear, didn't stop loving Till, but he did change the way he approached him, he began creating emotional distance from Till in certain, calculated ways [Back to the way Ivan shows his affection, the way he started subtly withdrawing, stopping Till from fighting with him and starting to show concern in secret and looking out for Till when he wouldn't notice was Ivan closing himself off from Till and shutting him out, especially as they got older, Ivan learned to become more evasive, like a shield.] So he started repressing his emotions, and voluntarily accepted staying in Till's shadow ("just enough to stay without being greedy")

Till wasn't being intentionally cruel; he was also just scared, scared of abandoning Mizi to escape and face the unknown outside of his comfort zone. We never do see Till confronting Ivan during or after the meteor shower because what Ivan and Till do when they fall out is not communicate, they just barely float around each other for a moment until they come back together. In this case, because Ivan wouldn't bring it up, Till didn't bring it up either. Till's emotional response to what he can't understand or cannot reconcile with almost always circles back to avoidance and denial [for instance, the gist of Mi Vida Loca is Till's avoidance and fears, and denial of the reality, all because he cannot find himself letting go in the face of rejection or fear, but all he wants to do is keep loving and chasing regardless]

Till isn't adept at handling social situations, certainly not feelings. He's especially careless about his interpersonal relationships, even though he cherishes them deeply, but his mind is always somewhere else, or he's too absorbed in his music to really see it, and he always finds himself too afraid to make the first move, always waiting or yearning or keeping to himself

Really, he's kind of simple-minded -> Till resolves the situation by not confronting/handling it because of the shame he had [for years, I imagine he grew to suppress these memories and avoid them until the present day]. Hell, maybe he didn't even have the words to explain it without a proper understanding of himself or Ivan or emotional maturity.

At the end of the day, neither he nor Ivan said a word about it; they didn't stop being together all the time, but something about their previous dynamic changed. And it didn't fix a thing

For years, Ivan and Till functioned like that, close but always circling around each other, avoidance, suppression, ignorance, but with Till, I wonder if there was an implicit trust that they would always be together anyway (it really just reminds me that he didn't anticipate going up against Ivan, and even post-cure, Ivan is always meant to return to him)

Years later, once the consequence is played out through Ivan's death, Till is once again grappling with denial and avoidance as he is alone to process all of this at once. The guilt and the suppressed feelings come back to him. During round 6, Till wanted to escape this exact scenario; he was fully ready to forfeit his life to Ivan to avoid living with all the failure and sorrow in his life, but [Till's "karma"] is being forced to acknowledge the reality, face it for the first time anyway without his defenses, even the loss he couldn't handle

This karma of his was innately set up to be a cycle of self-blame and self-destruction out of grief and trauma. If he chose to keep running and avoiding confrontation. His guilt would always be there, tormenting him, and so Ivan would never disappear. Till would end up staying stuck, walking in circles because of the past, and finding relief in causing wounds to keep things at bay. Worst case scenario, he would've destroyed himself to death

But here's the part where I believe he subverts "expectations" or breaks the typical flow of this cycle before it has the chance to break him

A rebellion member is killed on a mission, and the stray bullet injures Till. Of course, Till would feel upset for the life of another, especially since he couldn't do anything for them, but I'm almost certain that this scene was meant to play out as a reflection of Till's guilt and fears. It's to convey that Till is still haunted by these scenarios where he's helpless to the situation, people die all around him, and there's nothing he can even do about it. His guilt and self-loathing are endlessly eating at him, mocking him (Just the same way his hallucination of Ivan would say, "look at you, you're nothing but a burden." [Till hates feeling useless, pitifully weak]

Till breaks down to Isaac, it's implied more directly that Till's guilt over that incident is tied back to how tormented he is by the past. Till would continue to crush his own heart over his guilt, if Till doesn't move on and forgive himself, he's just going to continue to suffer and hate himself for the rest of his life over and over again, he'll continue to be reminded, that's just the cycle of trauma, [and that is how self-hatred plays out in these little ways, repetitively. Because of the person's perceived wrongdoings]

It could've been entirely unlikely that Till would've escaped this on his own if not for Isaac's advice-- he's told he should let go of the past and move forward, but Till knows in his heart that he doesn't want to let go, even though he wants to be freed, he doesn't want to forget it, it's all he's ever known for the majority of his life. That's why Ivan stays. If Till meant what he said by wanting Ivan to leave ages ago, Ivan would have been gone, but there's something within Till that is keeping him here. (Something unsaid, that he and 'Ivan' both know. Questions that have come back to the surface, being suppressed again and again out of fear, linger after all this time. I believe that's what pushes Till to really "confront" Ivan)

As I explained in another post, Till gets agitated when "Ivan" is casually checking on him and making the situation seem more mundane and casual than it actually is, just like he would do in the Garden.

Rewinding back to their days in Anakt Garden, after the meteor shower, it is my speculation that Till had many instances where he felt confused and irritated with Ivan for his behavior. Ivan was not good at calculating how Till would actually take these actions, even if they were small and "mellowed out." And Till, for his part, grew accustomed to ignoring Ivan and easily biting back what he actually felt behind bitter curses

When Till is reminded of this exact scenario in the present, he's sincerely upset and wonders why Ivan would never just ask if he was alright, ever. What does the hallucination of Ivan do...he deflects the question just like Ivan would have in the garden

Beneath this, in Till's words, there is a want, there is the deep-seated feeling of waiting for the people around him to ask about his feelings, to reach out first because he was a lonely child, he craved understanding and people, but was too scared to ask for it. But when Ivan always stuck around him and bothered him but didn't ask him about anything, he was left wondering why Ivan didn't care about him more, he was left questioning if Ivan ever did, and there it is, the core misunderstanding of each other

[Just like the behavior Till's hallucination of Ivan exhibits by avoiding elaboration and deflecting, this is the reason why Ivan and Till never properly connected with each other.]

Ivan and Till don't talk; Ivan is stubbornly resolute in his mindset, and Till remains stuck in place with apprehension and simple ignorance [A simple-minded guy at the time]. If they're left to their devices, they ultimately come to misguided conclusions about each other. Like Ivan not caring, Till not caring, then they never ask each other

How is Till simple-minded? pt.2 -> Well, he's not dumb, but he's naive. Always distracted, especially in the past with Mizi, without looking deeper into it and only absorbing how Ivan treated him in comparison to how he desired to be treated by people he cared about, back then they were immature children after all, when Till was spending day to day just trying to get by and feeling mostly confused by Ivan, it was easiest to assume things about Ivan that weren't true, especially in the instances where it'd seem like Ivan didn't even consider Till a friend, yet Till always cared about him

Till wonders why Ivan never asked him if he was okay, but in these scenarios where you're left asking why, maybe it is just that the other person was waiting for you to ask, too. It is just that Ivan wouldn't have known Till wanted him to care deep down if he thought Till disliked him so much, just as much as it would've been near impossible for Till to decipher Ivan's feelings if Ivan was always running and hiding. They both needed each other, but were actively denying themselves that because they were too scared of initiation, too scared to ask and get hurt, the Till of the present is understanding enough to realize that, fairly quickly, when he starts thinking back.

So when it comes to Ivan and Till's mutual misunderstanding, that's why Till was so stunned to realize something like Ivan actually caring about what he did, when otherwise, Till was too embarrassed to show him, and didn't think about whether Ivan would like it or not, if he could never read Ivan's feelings clearly. In Scars, we see him once again dismissing the thought and suppressing that revelation and the feelings that come with it, because of fear. Till was still avoiding and tiptoeing around the past.

However, this time it occurs to Till just how much time has passed-- Till has always had Ivan by his side, never imagined anything but-- now he's simply growing up without him. Till realizes he's been free, he's been doing things on his own, learning to ride a motorcycle, drawing, but he's been alone. (even though his vision of freedom would've always been alongside his friends, over being alone like this.) He's not used to being alone; most of all, he doesn't want it. So he doesn't let go of Ivan, yet again lacking the initiative to confront the situation, it never fixed anything when Till first woke up in the rebellion. It torments him; he's alone. But loneliness... that's why Ivan is here too [that's why he's always been there.]

Rather than a figure shrouded in darkness or a corpse coming back to haunt Till, it's just a child. There's a gentleness to the way Till sees Ivan now in contrast to Scars when he's coming to confront his grief and regrets directly. He had lost something irreplaceably precious to him before he could realize what it really even meant, before it was too late .

He remembers it was always Ivan desperately finding ways to get excuses to be with him by any means, good attention or not. Till didn't notice that it was because they were so alike. Lonely and needed someone

Back then, he could've never imagined that Ivan was so timid

Till just didn't understand it at the time, and so couldn't find the words to elaborate on the subject of Ivan, but it was always Ivan in his peripheral vision, no matter what. If only they both knew the word "family" = [how to confront each other], they could've prevented their suffering

[it’s a pitiful circumstance], but what Till feels isn’t pity, nor sympathy, but rather Till is understanding. He’s finally understood why Ivan always followed him around and did the strange things he did in the past, which held him back from truly connecting with Ivan, because they both came to constant clashes because of their fundamental differences

That's the thing that makes Till's path different to me, it's that he could've easily spiraled further into guilt for not realizing it sooner,

Instead of continuing to be angry, resentful, afraid, remorseful--instead of falling further into self-hatred, etc. He acknowledges and understands Ivan. Till's compassion and care effortlessly reaches out to him, he accepts Ivan, knowing they were both going through similar things and that Ivan was also afraid, even though it will never be the same as coming to understand the real Ivan, the point of Till's breakdown is his realization that this is all coming to him way too late. If only they had the time and the knowledge, they could've fixed this. He's regretful, but through this, he's making amends.

I'd like to believe there is forgiveness in there, too. For both of them, effortlessly loving, unconditionally, is in Till's nature (and it seems like as he's grown post-cure, he has become a more understanding person). This is rightful reassurance for two characters who didn't know how much they truly meant to each other, and couldn't have a better relationship. For Till, who couldn't shake the regret of overlooking Ivan for so long that he believes he caused this-- he gets to finally understand himself and Ivan by seeing his own pains reflected in him, and then he comes to come to truly know Ivan after all this time

For Ivan to be acknowledged and accepted [and loved] just like he's always wanted, is in its own way, closure for them both. Even despite its tragedy. ["to love is to be seen"] <- in a way, you know, they both desired to be seen and healed. Now Till's own love and care for Ivan is shown more clearly in his actions as he finally allows himself to come to peace with what he's been avoiding for decades of their relationship

Really... Till is so filled with love, only love can do what he did for Ivan

This moment gives Till a freeing sense of peace, metaphorically and literally. After that day, years have passed, and Ivan still hasn't come back to him. Till is devoted to living alongside the suffering he knows and the memories, not leaving them behind or treating them like a disposable part of himself, since Ivan will always be someone he cherished and cared about.

-

Till's character being able to make it out of this in a gentle way, therefore reaffirming his nature, is what I value most. I say he subverts the outline slightly because, for Luka and Mizi, specifically Mizi, for instance, who also needs closure, she's stuck in a loop of self-atonement and loneliness for things she can't take back, she's been living in her own personal hell for ages, she can't forgive herself and she must still believe she deserves it. It's uncertain if she'll really be able to grow and continue living despite it, like Till did, or if it is certainly her fate to never be able to escape herself. The one thing she has to fight for is to understand and forgive herself first. But I believe they all have it in them to make it, I believe they're all meant to at some point

Till was just narrowly close to losing himself to grief and sorrow. But he's always had a knack for coming back from the brink, and with a newfound sense of bravery and growth and understanding, most importantly, love-- he does what he couldn't do before. He decided to confront Ivan and the suppressed feelings. He decides to search for Mizi because what they need together is family and closure. By doing this, he would be cherishing Ivan's memory, by repurposing the suffering and the love into something even more profound (you know 🫩)

[lainalit]

Women & Children in the Court of nightmare & Illyria being hurt, tortured, abused, raped and killed

Feyre somewhere in her sixth mansion in Velaris:

[stagkingswife]

What I've Done Instead of Shadow Work

This is going to be the last thing I say on the topic of shadow work, because, honestly I'm getting bored of the subject and would rather go back to talking about spirit work, or spells, or any of the many other subjects that I care a thousand times more about. Some folks seem to be hearing “I refuse to do any introspection” when I say "I have never and will never do shadow work". I have done lots of introspection, I've done therapy that follows evidence based practices, I just see no reason do try and guide myself through a method of therapy with little to no scientific evidence. But in case anyone's curious, or wants some tips, here's what I've done instead! Mindfulness exercises: I love mindfulness exercises that train you to think about your thoughts, but not judge them. Consistent mindfulness practice has really helped me become more aware of my internal thought processes, what I get hung up on, what I struggle with, what emotions I’m feeling and what caused them.

The Artist Way & Embrace Your Weird: These are both self help books for creative folks with a heavy emphasis on journaling and self expression. I found both of these helpful in different ways when I felt like I was struggling with creative burnout or felt like I was stuck in the daily grind of my day job.

Journaling: I keep multiple journals! One is a commonplace book that I fill up with on the spot thoughts, quotes, song lyrics, etc. just stuff I want to remember. The other I write in every morning when I first wake up, a continuation of the morning pages from the Artist’s Way, to just unpack and process whatever going on in my head.

Therapy: Actual real therapy with a licensed professional. I specifically see a pain psychologist because most of what we focus on is the impact my chronic pain has on my and developing healthy coping mechanisms for that.

I think what gets a bee in my bonnet the most about the few negative reactions I’ve gotten on this topic is that these folks seem most concerned about the trauma and “inner demons” aspects of shadow work. There’s always something about how dangerous or unhealthy it is for me or even those around me for me to have not delt with my trauma via shadow work. I don’t like that they presume to know my life and mental health history without having ever spoken to me. And I really don’t like the insistance that everyone has the same kind of trauma that needs to be healed in the same way.

[morganbritton132]

I’m thinking about Steve’s mom in the context of this AU I’m (apparently) creating where Steve is the affair baby that broke up his much older half-siblings’ family.

Put yourself in the shoes that his mother would’ve been in. You’re nineteen. You have no education and you’re working your first real job. You start an affair with your boss - who is the father of the friend that got you the job - because you’re young and you think you’re in love, and you don’t think of the consequences.

Suddenly, you’re pregnant and he’s leaving his wife for you, and you still think you’re in love so you follow his lead. You’re nasty to his first wife because he is and you’re insecure because she nothing but nice to you. Her children hate you but Richard says that they’ll get over it so you believe him. They never do.

Then you’re married and you have access to more money than you’ve ever had in your life, and you’re in love. And you’re a mother. He sleeps through your delivery but everything is okay when you hold your little boy.

You know that things have changed now. That you’ll do everything in your power to make sure this little boy makes it in the big scary world. You promise yourself that you’ll do anything for him.

The baby cries, and you cry, and you thought things would be different and that you’d know what to do, but you really don’t. You don’t feel a connection with your baby beyond wanting to protect him, and you hate this. You hate being a mother. You hate this constant failing.

Richard is never home. He still works long hours but you’re no longer at the office with him. He seems completely disinterested in being a father and less interested in you playing mother, and you’re not stupid.

You know he left his wife for a younger, more attractive woman. You know he fell in love with you because you’re passionate, you’re fun, and you haven’t been that in a while.

You stood smug and happy by his side while he tried to take everything in the divorce, and you know his first wife has more money and influence than you. You know she has lawyers and you don’t. You don’t know what happens to you if he wants a newer model. You don’t know what happens to your son but you think he’ll try to take him from you.

Richard doesn’t want to be married to a mother, so you stop being one. You have to for the marriage to survive and it feels like guilt to be relieved by that. You’re not his secretary anymore, but his assistant. You travel with him and you join the right committees. You join the walking club and you shed the last of the baby weight, and he loves more than he ever has.

And you’re happy but you’re not in love.

It was too easy to pass motherhood onto Richard’s daughter, onto the nanny. It was easy to sidestep into the role of ‘friend,’ so you befriend your son.

Not a close friend. Not in any way that would make Richard feel like he wasn’t your world, but you’re there. You know the drama currently happening on the basketball team but not that your baby is failing English. You go on spa dates and make a whole day out of getting your hair cut together, but you don’t discipline him. Richard does that.

Then one day, you come home from the Poconos and your son has bruises on his face and bandages on his fingers, and a haunted vacant look in his eyes. He job was a pile of burning rubble when you drove into town. You asks what happened and if he’s alright, and he’s gives you the same smile you’ve been wearing for years, “Everything’s great, ma.”

[eshithepetty]

"Haha Dream BBQ is so random and incomprehensible" "did they take drugs to make this lol" "you're actually not meant to understand anything in this series it's ok" "Joel G just makes up stuff on the spot based on what would be funny" "it's just random for random's sake" "is this AI" "stop theorising, it's not that deep" SHUT UPPPPPPPPPP

[eggbertith]

league pitfighter vi lines save me

[chirrups]

another au idea ive been rolling around but desert duo flavored:

through a series of intentional and unintentional game mechanics, third life!grian and secret life!scar manage to escape the interdimensional holding space the lifers put the "game versions of themselves".

they flee on what is possibly the worst world-hopping roadtrip ever with no company but each other. yikes! good luck boys!

meanwhile on season 10 hermitcraft, grian and scar frantically try to figure out how to get the wayward pieces of themselves back with as little discussion about said pieces as possible

[yuesya]

Douma snaps open an ice-fan and flutters it in front of his face, hiding the growing smile that stretches across his lips.

Oh, how glad he is that he decided to check in on Gyutaro and Daki! Douma hadn’t known ahead of time if the demon slayer he was interested in would be here, but he’d thought that there would be a chance –Gyutaro was another Demon Moon, after all, and surely any demon slayer who found themselves caught in a fight with a Demon Moon would call for reinforcement?

Reinforcement, such as the girl who’d killed Upper Moon Three?

The young lady does all the rumors surrounding her justice and then some. She’s quite pretty, and Douma is someone who can appreciate beauty. The last Flower Pillar that he’d killed had been a lovely little thing, too –the expression of fear and anger that she’d worn when Douma had wounded her fatally especially so. A pity that the sun rose before he’d been able to devour her.

But here and now, the night is still young, and there are long hours to go before the sun rises.

Douma is much more interested in this new little Pillar than he had the Flower Pillar. She’s strong, of that there is no doubt –Douma had figured as much when Akaza died at her hands. But it’s one thing to know that, and another to see it in person. The ice sculptures that Douma created using his blood art are creatures that have killed Pillars on their own before, yet they shatter swiftly beneath the gleam of this young girl’s blade.

She does not use any breathing style. How curious. It’s even reflected in her sword –a nichirin blade that does not possess any particular color at all.

However, Douma shamelessly admits that the main reason for his interest in her is because of her eyes. Douma himself possessed eyes with a unique coloration –his human parents had proclaimed him to be a child who was able to hear the voices of gods, solely based on the rainbow shimmer of his eyes.

If they’d seen this girl’s eyes, then would they claim her to be a blessed child as well? Or would they prostrate themselves and kowtow in supplication?

There had been a light shiver that ran down Douma’s spine the moment he’d looked into those dark, abyssal eyes, for no reason at all.

He wonders how those eyes would taste, once he popped them out of her skull one by one and brought them to his lips.

Well… he wouldn’t have to wonder for much longer, hopefully. The ice created from Douma’s blood art is lethal to those who inhale it. And that lovely little demon slayer has been fighting his ice sculptures for quite some time now. Douma had deliberately chosen to engage her using his ice puppets instead of fighting her directly; considering what she’d done to Akaza and the fact that Gyutaro still wasn’t healing from the wound she’d inflicted on him, he’d figured that it would be safer to fight at range.

Just until the poor thing tired herself out. Then, Douma would finally end her suffering.

Almost in tandem to his thoughts, the white-haired demon slayer stumbles, coughing on a cloud of poisonous ice-dust that bursts in her vicinity.

Douma smiles.

[traceyc-uk]

Pride Week: similar to this post a doodle dump of Nfy x Chris @diana-bluewolf

[crustyfloor]

Do you think ivti is unrequited?

Until Till's perspective is here, I can't find myself properly deciding on that....But I do think Vivinos has intended to portray unrequited, one-sided romantic feelings through Ivan and Till since the start . They have hate/love for each other after all, so I think it's bound to be more complicated than bluntly "unrequited"-- but just based on what we're shown, Till didn't hold those same romantic feelings for Ivan as Ivan did for him-- however, the affection and intimacy/familiarity Ivan has for him is reciprocated by Till, and I think that nuance will be made more apparent in the future. Side tangent here, but I think love is very diverse, maybe Vivinos is intending to show many forms of love and how they can manifest in each dynamic. A love that isn't exactly romantic but familial and sincere is still love, so even if Ivan's romantic feelings aren't reciprocated, Till still loves him... like this scene in Karma solidifies that for me again completely when Till is the one reaching for Ivan and showing his intentions, Till sincerely cares about Ivan and is attached uahgosijh