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#I simply do not have the time or mental capacity for thus and it would be an insane life choice just...in general
bewareofthenewphannie · 3 months
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the fact that i genuinely considered for the fraction of a second really taught me something about myself I didn't know before and it scares me quite frankly
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max1461 · 2 months
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I think something which is not widely acknowledged in discussions about division of labor in (usually heterosexual) relationships, despite its utter obviousness, is the following: the workload involved in either working a full time job or taking care of housework is alone already grueling in and of itself to many people; many people find it barely manageable. If someone does not want to help with the housework after coming home from their job, or conversely does not want to pitch in to help with the couple's joint income because they are already doing all the housework, this is not necessarily any kind of expression of entitlement. It is I suspect very often an expression of exhaustion, emotional or physical. It is not necessarily that such people would do these things themselves if they lived alone, and thus are merely being opportunistic in expecting their partner to do them—for many people, if they lived alone, they would simply not be able to bring themselves to do these things at all, and thus would either live in filth or in poverty/dependence on others, because humans are finite being of limited capacity.
This is a particular bugbear for me because during the pandemic, for reasons that you all already know, I found myself unable to do either. I could not support myself nor could I manage housework, and thus I found myself in the unpleasant and humiliating experience of having to depend wholly on my parents for my living situation and also living in very gross and unpleasant conditions to boot.
So, yes, sometimes, probably oftentimes (especially in light of heterosexual social scripts) someone is just unfairly shunting work onto their partner because they can get away with it. But sometimes I suspect people would like to be able to do more, but even with no other option they could not. Sometimes a single person might "choose" to come back to a dirty house every day because after a day of work and ~3 hours of commute they would rather capture some small portion of their waking life for mental rest instead of spending 100% of it working, and if they get a partner this is not necessarily going to change although it may be viewed differently.
Of course, this person's partner is very possibly (indeed I think probably) in the exact same position, and I think if you really care about someone it is generally desirable to sacrifice some of your rest and peace and to engage in otherwise undesirable toil in order to ease their burden a bit. I think that's admirable. But these situations must be approached with the understanding that both parties may to some degree be struggling to do their best, and not succeeding out of the shear difficulty of the task rather than out of neglectfulness.
Yes, I contend that the mere basics of living are a task of considerable difficulty, however silly this may sound. It is obviously true. Perhaps not for everyone but for very many.
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mtgpocketrealm · 2 months
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What Lives In the Realms
There are beasts and plants in every realm, a biosphere needs them to not immediately collapse generally thus killing everything that lives there, but outside of them, there are the sapient races, the Guardians, and the Skep.
Since the focus is the diversity of color identity, I decided that the main race would be Human. No elves, vedalken, aetherborn, minotaurs, merfolk, etc. None of those are 'native' to the plane, only Humans.
However, with the Humans came Werewolves and Vampires, and with time came variations to the Human condition. Variants of Humans include 'Mutants', 'Splicers', 'Horrors', and 'Fractured'.
Non-Humans are the Eldrazi (they are sapient in an alien way) and Slivers (the Hive mentality creates an approximate intelligence).
Besides general Humans, the presence of the races, be they variant Humans, Werewolves, Vampires, and even Eldrazi, tends to fluctuate between the realms.
Humans
Humans of the plane are incapable of casting magic, they are as capable in that front as you or I.
Variant humans however are changed, some can use magic, and others hear the whispers of the Eldrazi of the Realm, some are simply fundamentally different possessing angelic wings or capable of breathing underwater. The variants are, by their nature, specific to their realms.
Fractured Humans are people who were damaged by the realm barrier and now barely function within the normal bounds of reality.
Werewolves
Werewolves of the plane are capable of magic, at night gaining great physical and magical might, at the price of their cognitive capacities and sense of self. Unlike the werewolves of Innistrad who can spread Lycanthrope to others, the Werewolves of the plane can not do such a thing, being a purely genetic/hereditary factor.
Vampires
Vampires of the plane are, generally, not capable of magic. They are characterized by their need to feed off of Humans in some fashion and their ability to convert a Human into a Vampire somehow. What they feed on and how they convert varies between the realms which possess them. Along with physical traits, as some appear utterly inhuman while others are nearly indistinguishable.
Eldrazi
Living on the outskirts of the realms, there is generally one specific variety of Eldrazi per realm, beyond the Spawns, Scions, and Horrors. They are like many Eldrazi, in that they consume reality, matter, mana, and life, though their appearance, abilities, and tactics vary between the realms.
Slivers
Placed in the exact center of each of the realms, their hives possess varying degrees of presence and importance between each realm. They generally terraform the area around them through their presence. To be blatantly honest about this project, this creature type is the reason I had initially created this project, though since that time, they have become less and less important. They are impactful on the realms to extremely varying degrees, but I've truly thought about them less.
Guardians
Mechanical constructs with immense (comparative to Humans) magical power, they manage the expansion of the realms through mechanical means. They have two forms, smaller Human-sized constructs which generate mana to be infused into the plane and manage the mechanical terrain. And the larger ones, about 6 meters in height, protect the smaller ones and the machinery. Those tend to have actual magical abilities as well as gestate smaller Guardians. A majority of realms, those without properly adapted barriers, have an additional far larger form whose only purpose is to prevent anything from approaching or even trying to pass through it. These massive Guardians are scrapped for materials once a true barrier is adapted by the realm.
In the realms, they remain in (they don't exist within the colorless realm due to a disproportionate Eldrazi presence), they have been unilaterally infected with phyresis before the end of the Phyrexian Invasion.
Realmsouls
Unlike normal planes that possess Worldsouls, the Worldsoul of the plane has been separated between the thirty-two realms. They are aware of events that occur on other realms, unlike most of the realm's denizens. These Realmsouls regularly manifest into physical forms and interact with the denizens of the realm, usually with some purpose in mind, such as facilitating a trade network between disparate groups or possibly protecting one person who is assumed to be important in the future.
Their appearance, personality, and purpose vary wildly between each Realm.
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morphomixz · 4 months
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Eclipsed in Paris (Miraculous x Reader) Pt 7
10:13:27 am, Saturday, April 20th, Paris, France
Two days have passed since the introduction of Rogue to the French public, and in two days speculation has already arisen as to who is behind the mask. Alya's Ladyblog has imploded with new information, and super "villain" attacks appear to be a daily occurrence. 
It's strange calling them villains. Yes, they are acting out with the powers given to them by moth-man, but their abilities are affected by negative emotions. If they are no longer sad or angry, jealous even, then their powers should theoretically disappear with the feelings. 
Anyways, with a new superhero on the loose, Paris has started to question if Rogue is with their normal dynamic duo or simply offered a helping hand to deal with Prime Queen. Chloe's been doing better since the whole subway train gum scenario. Her jacket may never recover, nor will her pores, but mentally she seems unscarred by the experience. However, I can feel something bubbling just below the surface. She's going to act out soon, I can feel it; someone unfortunately will be hurt in some capacity because of her actions. Moving on, however...
So far, I've fought a ratings-obsessed reporter and an ice cream man-monster thing alongside Ladybug as well as Chat Noir. She's yet to ask about Bazoo and the Bat Miraculous, but I know she's curious. Chat's asked twice now. The first time was right after Prime Queen was defeated and I got out of it because he had little time left in his hero form. The second time, was when Andre the "sweethearts" ice cream maker was de-akumatized. 
~ Flashback ~
"So, now that we have more time, mind telling me where you got your miraculous little bat?", Chat Noir inquired while trapping me in a corner. He clearly wasn't giving up this time and Ladybug had already run off to wherever she needed to be. "Only if you tell me how you got your's kitten" I replied in a teasing tone, leaning forward into the small gap between us, as my voice became lower. That apparently got him a bit hot under the collar because he began sputtering nonsense, his face glowing with the rosy flush before he turned around quickly, thus releasing me from the corner,  leaving the building we were standing on, and heading off to likely detransform just out of sight to head home. Silly kitten can play the flirting game, but can't seem to take it when someone starts flirting back. Or at least, I think it was him flirting. He reminds me of what having a little brother would be like. Embarrassing them for the fun of it, so none of the "flirting" meant anything to me. Besides, he's a superhero with a secret identity he can't reveal to anyone. How would dating even work?
~ End of Flashback ~
I enjoy being a superhero, at least I think I do. It's almost cathartic. With everything going on, only having one song finished for the album and needing eleven more, the makeup launch in a few weeks, modeling for Agreste fashions soon, designing my own clothing line inspired by Paris, and auditions for movie roles in two months; which got added to my plate in the phone call I missed during the Prime Queen debacle, there is virtually no time to be a superhero, but when I'm Rogue, it's freeing. I'm a different person, like my personality when I'm Y/N Bougeouis is eclipsed by Rogue and when I detransform, Rogue is eclipsed by the idol personality. Rogue is idle when Y/N is in control and Y/N is idle when Rogue is present. No side is completely myself, and both have true aspects of my personality, but neither is one singularity. 
12:56:12 pm, Monday, April 22nd, Paris, France
Going to school was getting old. Yes, it was exciting at first but the lustrous shine has faded. Now, I'd give anything to be back at the hotel or at work instead of in class, but I guess today isn't so bad. Marinette's dad is teaching the class today. Apparently, the baker who I met while exploring is her father so that actually explains a lot. 
"I'll let you in on a little secret. I always add cream to the chocolate to make the ganache extra velvety. Then I let infuse for one minute." Marinette's father said while demonstrating his actions. I stood off to the side next to Kim and Max, while Chloe and Sabrina stood near the back. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Chloe becoming agitated which is never a good sign. Then she opened up her mouth, " Urgh! Do they seriously think I'm going to get my hands dirty, cooking like some maid? If I want a croissant, I'd just make my butler get it for me." came her entitled decree to Sabrina. She really needs to be hit upside the head sometimes. The sweet, pink girl; I think her name's Rose gave Chloe a gentle reminder that Mr. Dupain-Chang wasn't making croissants and that may have pushed her over the edge I think. Maybe I'll listen in slightly while focusing my attention back on Mr. Dupain-Chang when he said, "It's all done with a flick of the wrist. But you mustn't go too fast or you might splash yourself!" That's when Chloe's real entitlement showed through as she made the comment, " And soil my Chenal pants? Who's he kidding?" Jeez Chloe, if you're going to act entitled at least pronounce the brand name correctly...
M. Dupain-Chang had just said, "Look at this lovely emulsion." when I heard dial tones just behind me and saw Chloe dialing someone on her phone. This isn't going to end well, whatever it is that she's doing. Then, Marinette was sent out of the room with the mixture to take it to the kitchen to chill for a while, and as she left I noticed Chloe's smirk getting wider. Almost cheshire like. Mr. Dupain-Chang in the meantime began showing us how to whip egg whites, until the fire alarm went off... Chloe, what did you do this time?
Mrs. Bustier was the first to speak, giving direction as she said, "Quietly, students. Single file line, please. Just keep moving." Chloe lead the group out of the classroom, high and mighty with her head held high. I'm afraid she doesn't realize how heavy the head that wears the crown is though. 
Mr. Damocles had just finished claiming it was a false alarm saying, "So, some smart aleck had the bright idea of calling the fire department." which lead to a gasp from several students.  "Somebody amongst us thought it would be funny to waste the fire captain's valuable time," he said while ignoring the protesting of the fire captain, " Hold on! I want the guilty party to apologize to you." What is Chloe's angle with this? Marinette and Alya were speaking off to the side, likely about Chloe if I could assume when Chloe's own hand went in the air.
"Mr. Damocles, sir?" she asked in a pseudo-innocent voice. Ah, shit here we go. In a saccharinely-sweet voice, Chloe said, " I saw a student leaving the classroom right before the alarm went off. It must have been her." So that's what she's doing. Apparently, Mr. Damocles bought it because he immediately said, " Really? Who was it?"
Her voice turning accusatory in nature, she called out, " Let's see if she'll come clean. What do you say, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" causing another round of gasps to go throughout the room. A grimace came across my face as I made eye contact with Chloe which caused her smile to drop for a moment before it shifted to an indignant expression. Accidentally making eye contact with Adrien while tuning out Mr. Damocles, it appears the same thought crossed our minds, and Adrien spoke out. 
"Urgh, wait. Excuse me, sir!" he called out as Marinette appeared to pant. "It couldn't possibly be Marinette. Why would she disrupt her own father's cooking class?" he reasoned. Alya joined in with, " And I know for a fact that Marinette didn't even have her phone on her when she went out of the classroom." trying to further prove Marinette's innocence. Once again, the fire captain tried to leave but after hearing the claims of secondary parties, Mr. Damocles stopped him from leaving by saying "Just one more second. We're very close to discovering the truth." Jeez, this is going to be a long day. 
I tuned out for a while until Kim nudged me bringing me back into the mess in front of us. I could hear my cousin just finished saying, "What?! I'm not so sure my father will react kindly to me or my cousin being punished without any proof!" pulling out her phone in a threatening manner. She just dragged me into this, didn't she? Apparently, it got to Mr. Damocles because he immediately soothed her with an "Oh, no! Please, don't disrupt the busy mayor." before clearing his throat and saying, "The whole school is punished except for the Miss Bourgeois's!" which sent a flurry of whispers through the crowd and Chloe walked over to me saying, "That's more like it."
The rest of the school began their unfair punishment. Where's the justice in punishing everyone for one person's actions? So, I was working to help clean as well much to Chloe's displeasure.  Chloe was lounging around, rudely speaking to other students when they got close to her with their cleaning supplies. Apparently, Adrien finally got angry because he walked up to her, only to be smothered in  a hug by Chloe who greeted him with a " Adrikins!"Now, Adrien and I are not close by any means, but I'm always impressed by how he manages to get the truth out of her one way or another. Once again listening in, I caught her saying to him, "Of course, it was me who called the fire department. So what?" Now I'm angry. God forbid she actually takes responsibility and cares about someone other than herself. Adrien scolded her saying, " And it doesn't bother you that everyone's being punished because of you?" 
You can see no cogs turning in her head.  Her venom spread as she replied with a, "No. Why would it? They all seem to enjoy getting dirty making cookies. How's it any different than getting dirty, cleaning floors? They should be thanking me if anything." Yes, we should all bow and thank the gracious Chloe who screwed us all into cleaning the entire school because she misused the number for a fire captain by having the fire alarm pulled for her. Disappointment radiated off of Adrien as I walked up to the two's conversation, as Adrien looked her dead in the eyes and asked, " Chloé, how long have you and I been friends?" Where's he going with this? Chloe pouted her lips slightly replying with a, " Since we were adorable little tots, Adrikins."
He sighed which she didn't seem to pick up on before telling her, "Well, I'm sorry Chloé, but I can't be friends with someone who treats other people like this. You've gotta be nice to people!" Okay, that's a little harsh, even with her actions. She's a bit emotionally stunted. 
"N-Nice?" she responded clearly stunned and taking in his words. "N/N? Does he really expect me to?" she asked me. Adrien replied before I could saying, " Yes, nice. It's not that hard." before skulking off to Nino. "He's not the only one Chlo. I can't share or be on good terms with you until you show me you can be kind to other people." I said, before turning myself away from her, going to join Alix, Kim, and Max where they were cleaning to help out, leaving my cousin alone to process the words Adrien and I had said. 
4:25:33 pm, Monday, April 22nd, Paris, France
The ride home was quiet, and albeit very awkward between Chloe and I. Sabrina had been told not to come over today and Chloe appeared on the brink of tears. She stormed off to her room and the butler Armand (Jean according to Chloe), went off to check on her. It seems he cheers her up often according to the other staff within the hotel. I returned to my room to change into different clothing, lounge clothing consisting of black yoga pants, a wine-colored hoodie, and white socks, no shoes for now. I opened my sketchbook and began working on clothing designs for the newest Serpentine line that's supposed to come out when my phone began buzzing. It's Dante's new number. I quickly shut my phone off without picking it up. Maybe one day he'll get the hint that I just don't want to know him. Yes, at one point there may have been affection, but there was no love. 
Love... There's that word again.
Perhaps, this new line needs to be inspired by the allusions of love. Agape, eros, phileo, and storge. For Dante, I don't feel any of these currently, but for Chloe, I feel phileo. My hand began moving on the page before I knew it. Sketching out a dress, I shade it in a white-gold color, adding honeycomb patterns to the skirt in a slightly-yellow gold color. The top remained a solid white-gold with a semi-thick black line embellishing the waist, that had a small honey bee embroidered into it with gold thread. The design took two hours to fully flesh out, with accessories and all but when it was finished, it felt like Chloe. Chloe as a dress. One design down, however many are left to go, but this is where this design should go.
When I finally looked up from my design I realized I could hear music. Thumping music. I turned my phone on to see an invitation to a party being thrown by Chloe. Why is she throwing a party?
I changed quickly into an outfit that was a black blouse, my miraculous, white pants, and wine-colored boots. Making my way to the party, I noticed even Marinette and Alya had been invited. Now that's surprising. What was even more surprising was seeing Chloe and Marinette exchange cheek kisses as though they were friends at the prompting of Armand as well as... a yellow teddy bear? Wait... Is that Mr. Cuddly? Chloe's bear from when we were children? Anyways, it appears before I came down here she made up with Adrien which is good. When she noticed my presence she came over and offered me her cheek. Instead of kissing it, I pulled her into an unexpected hug. "We don't kiss cheeks in America Chlo, but I'm proud of you," I whispered to her before pulling back. She smiled softly before heading back to where Armand was likely for more advice. So, I joined the party, dancing with friends until Nino put on a slow dance song. 
Chloe didn't look so happy being asked to dance by Kim, but she excepted anyways with a look at the yellow teddy. Somewhere inside, I felt a pang straight to my heart seeing Kim hold her close. Maybe it's because I've never had friends before... That must be it. 
I joined up with a guy with blue hair whom I never met before, neither of us speaking a word but reaching an understanding that we wanted to dance with one another. He's cute, I guess. Actions are often louder than words, but personality is more important than looks. A bad personality can make the most handsome of boys ugly to one who once thought him attractive. Glancing at Chloe, I noticed her pulling away from Kim to storm over to Adrien and Marinette. My body language must have shown my concern because the boy I was dancing with pulled away, and sent me a soft smile, before gesturing for me to go after my cousin. "Thank you" I whispered to him before moving my way through the crowd. 
Armand cut in when Chloe was protesting the Marinette-Adrien dance, saying " If I re-say, Mademoiselle, or to..." only to be interrupted by Chloe telling him to move, before exposing Mr. Cuddly to the entire school. Mortification passed over Chloe's face as Armand's squeakily voiced the bear saying, "Oh, please, Chloé, dear! You've been such a good little girl! Mr. Cuddly is so very proud..." Oh shit... Chloe tried to hide the bear from view, but then Kim began to tease her, " Is that your teddy bear, Chloé?" he inquired. Oh no, Kim... Why did you have to say that?  I punched him in the arm after he finished speaking gaining a questioning look from him, only for him to be met with my eyes burning into his with my own personal disappointment directed at him. His eyes darkened at my look but it was too late. An uproar of laughter came from the entire party, embarrassing Chloe and then enraging her. She dragged him off into the kitchen, but the doors don't keep out the sound of her firing him.
Chloe snapped, " I've had it with your stupid teddy bear, your stupid advice, and you, Jean, whatever your stupid name is!" she spits with venom dripping off every word. Armand was devastated, trying to reason with her saying, "But, Mademoiselle, I was only trying to help." Chloe was seeing red because her next statement finalized his status, "There's no more Mademoiselle, no more help, no more anything! You are FIRED! Now get out!" she screamed before exiting the kitchen back to the party. 
When Chloe returned to her party, that's when it got weird. Sabrina almost assaulted her with a hairbrush, she ran to hide behind Kim, and a teddy bear? Why was a teddy bear clinging to Sabrina's leg? Watching the bear, I saw it attach itself to Kim after he said rather "valiantly", "If you touch one hair on Chloé's head, you'll have to answer to me." Then, a glazed-over look appeared in Kim's eyes and his sudden strange body language tipped me off about an akumatized victim. Sabrina had a dazed look just before I slipped away to transform into Rogue just outside the kitchen window. 
"Bazoo! Spread my wings!" I exclaimed feeling the leather take over the usual cotton of my clothing. I re-entered the party through the same window, surveying the scene, and saw Ladybug using her yoyo to toss my cousin into a ball pit. Has that always been there? Never mind, not important. What's important is the teddy bear.
As she spits out a ball out of her mouth, Chloe in her infinite stupidity asked, "About time, what took you so long?" to which she got no response. Turning my attention to Chat and Ladybug, it was time for "battle". Chat tripped up Kim with his baton sending the inebriated boy into the ball pit and the teddy went flying.
"That's a very slippery dance floor" Chat snickered to himself after the jock went flying. I retaliated lightly with a coy, "Or perhaps there were some mischievous interventions..." Ladybug had just managed to laso Despair Bear with her yoyo and yelled out to the frantic crowd, "Move aside. All of you!" before being tackled to the ground by the leather-clad cat man due to a chair suddenly flying through the air almost hitting her. That was a bit overkill but c'est la vie, when in Rome do as the Romans do. Turning in the direction of where the chair came from, I noticed Max had been the one to throw it. Is this bear seriously going to just mind-control my friends and Chloe's minions? I hope not...
A disembodied voice came from Max, "How about a little game..." before the voice of our dear akumatized villain shined through saying, "Of flying chairs." with an audible sneer in his tone of voice. It's clear where the akuma is so my powers are kinda useless. 
Ladybug tied her yo-yo around Max's leg,  only as soon as she did, Despair Bear left his leg. Despair Bear clung onto Alya next and the newest victim of the mind-controlling bear was forced to attack. She approached Ladybug and tries to attack her but I had managed to lock my arms around her and slammed her across the room, damage be damned. Hopefully, the magic ladybugs help with internal damage. Despair Bear was flung off by the force of the throw before claiming Ivan as his next victim, and Alya upon recovering from the toss was disoriented enough to ignore any lasting pain. 
Just then, Chat Noir stopped Ivan from crushing the three of us with a coffee table. How strong is he if he can lift that coffee table? It's supposed to weigh almost 120 pounds.  Wait where did the bear go?
A weird sensation came over my body as I realized Chat Noir had grabbed both Ladybug and my hands. "Uh, What are you doing?" she asked before realizing, "Uh, oh," I said as we both looked down to see the teddy bear wrapped around Chat's leg. "New plan?" I asked. "New plan," Ladybug replied. The butterfly symbol appeared in front of the teddy bear and when it finished listening to Hawkmoth, Despair Bear spoke, "Oh, pretty earrings and necklace" through Chat's body. 
While Ladybug tried to reason with the controlled kitty cat, I tried to figure out a way out of his death grip. Hmm... If echo works to locate the akumatized object, the force from it should be able to send him back far enough even if I already know where it is. The problem is the floor to ceiling windows..."Everyone away from the windows," I cried out just before Chat in his daze said, "Cataclysm" I was about to us echo on my newfound friend when, Chloe stepped in to aid us? "Paws off, kitty!" she said as she sends his paws down into the couch, efficiently destroying it... This is a lot of property damage.
"Thanks Chloe," I said and Ladybug followed suit. Of course, however, Chloe being Chloe has to have the attention directed towards something she's done because she started bragging, and then complaining. You gotta love that girl sometimes.
"Hey, I was really nice, just then. Did you see? No?" Chloe exclaimed right before everyone else fainted out of shock. Was that from her actions or the fact that Ladybug and I were almost wiped out of existence?  "You're all so lame. I bet Y/N wouldn't have fainted." Chloe said in an exasperated tone. 
"Maybe you should use your lucky charm" I recommended to Ladybugbefore engaging Chat again with my boomerang which hit him in the head. "I think I might've just angered him more!" I yelled as Ladybug cried out for her "Lucky Charm". She got a fork. What are we supposed to do with a freaking fork?!?! "Rogue I need you to buy us some time!" she said, which I responded with a curt nod. 
"ECHO" I screeched as the windows begun to shake before shattering letting glass fly everywhere and the controlled Chat Noir went flying back into the bar area from the power behind the scream. Still in control of Chat Noir, Despair Bear rubbed his head before uttering, "You little brats!" and forcing CHat t ochase us out and up the stairs to the rooftop. 
"DO YOU HAVE A PLAN YET?!" I yelled behind me as I sent my boomerang to cut Chat off at the knees making him trip up the final stairs. "Okay, Rogue get Chloe on board with the plan." Ladybug directed. Jeez this isn't going to be easy.
Okay so it was pretty easy. Chloe was hiding behind an umbrella and was being attacked by the teddy bear still. She agreed pretty easily after Ladybug managed to attach the fork to Despair Bear. "Naughty, Naughty Ladybug and Rogue." he said as he forced the body of Chat Noir to fight Ladybug. 
"Okay, Chloe so when she gives the signal, I need you to spin the umbrella so that the teddy unravels." I told her before joining the fight by once again sending the boomerang into Chat Noir's knees. Note to self apologize to him and his knee caps later. "Chloe, would you be so kind?" Ladybug said and Chloe immediately began spinning the umbrellacausing the body of the bear to unravel leaving nothing but the head and a tiny butler. 
" Ladybug? Rogue? What are you doing?" Chat asked now completely free of Despair Bears arms. "Oh, nothing. Just saving your skin with the help of our new little sidekick." Ladybug replied before I made the comment, "Perhaps we'll replace you with her, kitten." which made him blanche before punching me lightly in the shoulder. "Why do my knees hurt so much?" he asked wincing at the pressure of standing. "I'll tell you later." I said quickly, flushing  before turning to the tiny man. 
A squeaking voice called out, "Give me your Miraculous! You haven't defeated me, yet!" iIght, Despair Bear still hasn't technically been defeated. "Watch your step Chat Noir" Ladybug said before I ended up picking him up bridal style and side stepping behind our villain to avoid Despair Bear's grip again. "This is humiliating..." Chat said while pouting at the position. "It's okay kitten, this is partially my fault anyways." I admitted before setting him down to which a confused expression came over his face, only to be replaced with one of determination. 
" I've got this guy under control." Chat said as he picked up and effectively trapped Despair Bear in his hands as Ladybug broke the thread that the fork was attached to from the body of Mr. Cuddly and then deevilizing the butterfly setting everything back to normal. 
Nudging Ladybug with my hip, I glanced over at Chloe. Ladybug apparently caught on to what I was indicating as we both moved to thank my dear cousin. "Thanks for helping us out there. That was really nice of you." Ladybug said to her. "Yeah, it really is a refreshing to have a helping hand." I added. " I know, wasn't it?" Chloe said with her chest puffed up with pride. This is gonna go to her head isn't it. Oh well...
Anyways, Chloe rehired her butler, us three miraculous holders had to run off to detransform, and Chloe had to make a phone call. I snuck back into my room to detransform through the window. To make sure no one would see I managed to get into the walk-in closet before Bazoo returned from the pendent extremely hungry. Heading down to the party area and back into the kitchen, I handed Bazoo several blackberries before realizing Chloe was up to something again. Only this time it required several booth like tables and Marinette's dad. 
"Great job, kids. You've done some really good work." Mr. Dupain-Chang saidas he maneuvered around the room looking at everyone's macarons. I made lemon-lavender macarons with Kim and he seemed kinda more touchy during our prep time. Our hands kept brushing against each others while decorating, he put his hands over mine  while mixing the batter, and he even wiped crumbs off my lips during our sampling time. I mean, I don't mind it but it was definitely a change since earlier today. 
Dragging me off by our linked arms, Chloe and I ended up to the side of the group with Adrien.
"That was a great idea of inviting Marinette's dad!" Adrien commented. "He's right, and it was something that made up for not being able to finish the lesson at school." I added in while glancing down slightly at Chloe. She replied quickly saying, "I know. This way, no one can be mad at me for calling the fire department. I'm really nice now, did you notice, Adrikins? N/N? Even Ladybug said so! Didn't she, Jean-Pascal?" Ah yes, there's the Chloe I know. 
"I'm proud of you, Chloé. I think you've proven that you're capable of making an effort to be nicer to everyone" Adrien told her. Here we are at full circle from this morning. "Aww, Adrikins! So we'll always be best friends, forever? Pinky swear?" she said with a glint in her eyes. Oh dear here we go. Adrien pinky swore with her before she left us behind while making judgemental comments about the other's macarons. 
"She'll never change." Adrien said before turning to me. "No. No she won't, but she's capable of it when she decides she ready to, and we'lll just have to be there when she is." I replied leaning into his side beforemoving aside when I noticed Marinette. "Excuse me, Adrien" I said before walking off to find Kim, Alix, and Max. Watching from my corner I saw Adrien and Marinette interact. One day, they'll realize just how much they like each other, and I don't mean as "just a friend". 
6:45 pm, Tuesday, April 23rd, Paris, France
Between superhero work, my aunt's intended image for me, my schoolwork, and idol work it's a wonder I haven't had a full-blown mental breakdown yet. I've gotten closer to Alix, Kim, and Max from school but they don't really understand idol work. Chloe seems to think it's the greatest thing on earth, but I'd like one day to myself. Anyways, I just finished up in the recording studio for the day and decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Honestly, the stairwell has amazing acoustics so sometimes afterward I'll sit in the stairwell doing whatever I want.
Today I decided to use the stairwell just for some fun. I was kinda hoping to scare someone because it can be creepy at night. One of my favorite things to do back in New York was to sit on my fire escape and do "siren calls". 
While I was singing, I heard a second voice. A masculine voice joined me with these "calls". The voice although mostly smooth, had certain moments of roughness like he'd been singing for a while and his voice was becoming tired. The voice continued to entrance me until I realized I had been walking back up the steps, closer to the voice, closer to whoever he was.  
Then the singing stopped.
The concrete walls of the stairwell seemed to dim, time was running out both in the day and to meet this gifted singer who joined my vocal runs. I heard a door click shut shortly after. 
Rushing further up the stairs I ended up back in the studio. No one was around. So I left. Hopefully, I can meet him one day. Clearly, today isn't that day.
Walking up the street to where the limo was parked I was in my own little world, or at least I was. I hit something warm. Oh, I ran into someone is a better explanation I suppose. It was the blue-haired boy from Chloe's party! "I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." I apologized to him. "Hmm... It's alright" he replied, silently giggling to himself. "I'm Y/N, I think we've met before." I said offering him my hand. "I'm Luka, we danced together at your cousin's party," he replied with a soft smile. 
"Well, Luka. How much do you know about music?"
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redshift-13 · 2 years
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Summary
How to assess critical aspects of cognitive functioning that are not measured by IQ tests: rational thinking skills.
Why are we surprised when smart people act foolishly? Smart people do foolish things all the time. Misjudgments and bad decisions by highly educated bankers and money managers, for example, brought us the financial crisis of 2008. Smart people do foolish things because intelligence is not the same as the capacity for rational thinking. The Rationality Quotient explains that these two traits, often (and incorrectly) thought of as one, refer to different cognitive functions. The standard IQ test, the authors argue, doesn't measure any of the broad components of rationality—adaptive responding, good judgment, and good decision making.
The authors show that rational thinking, like intelligence, is a measurable cognitive competence. Drawing on theoretical work and empirical research from the last two decades, they present the first prototype for an assessment of rational thinking analogous to the IQ test: the CART (Comprehensive Assessment of Rational Thinking).
The authors describe the theoretical underpinnings of the CART, distinguishing the algorithmic mind from the reflective mind. They discuss the logic of the tasks used to measure cognitive biases, and they develop a unique typology of thinking errors. The Rationality Quotient explains the components of rational thought assessed by the CART, including probabilistic and scientific reasoning; the avoidance of “miserly” information processing; and the knowledge structures needed for rational thinking. Finally, the authors discuss studies of the CART and the social and practical implications of such a test. An appendix offers sample items from the test.
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I read his book What Intelligence Tests Miss and would highly recommend it.
A couple of quotes:
"The lavish attention devoted to intelligence (raising it, praising it, worrying when it is low, etc.) seems wasteful in light of the fact that we choose to virtually ignore another set of mental skills with just as much social consequence--rational thinking mindware and procedures.  Popular books tell parents how to raise more intelligent children, educational psychology textbooks discuss the raising of students' intelligence, and we fell reassured when hearing that a particular disability does not impair intelligence.  There is no corresponding concern on the part of parents that their children grow into rational beings, no corresponding concern on the part of schools that their students reason judiciously, and no corresponding recognition that intelligence is useless to a child unable to adapt to the world.
I simply do not think that society has weighted the consequences of its failure to focus on irrationality as a real social problem.  These skills and dispositions profoundly affect the world in which we live.  Because of inadequately developed rational thinking abilities--because of the processing biases and mindware problems discussed in this book--physicians choose less effective medical treatments; people fail to accurately assess risks in their environment; information is misused in legal proceedings; millions of dollars are spent on unneeded projects by government and private industry; parents fail to vaccinate their children; unnecessary surgery is performed; animals are hunted to extinction; billions of dollars are wasted on quack medical remedies; costly financial misjudgments are made.  Distorted processes of belief formation are also implicated in various forms of ethnocentric, racist, sexist, and homophobic hatred.  It is thus clear that widespread societal effects result from inadequately developed rational thinking dispositions and knowledge." (197-198)
The problem of poor thinking is screaming at us in the face.  The irony is that you can’t hear this until you yourself have achieved some level of proficiency in critical thinking.  Once you do, the scale of the problem seems enormous.  It’s the educational work of generations and we’re only at the first steps.
If progressives are serious about creating a better world it’s deeply perplexing that critical thinking hasn’t already become one of its major projects.
The following is a useful and clarifying term:
Dysrationalia is the inability to think and behave rationally despite adequate intelligence.  It is a general term that refers to a heterogeneous group of disorders manifested by significant difficulties in belief formation, in the assessment of belief consistency, and/or in the determination of action to achieve one's goals.  Although dysrationalia may occur concomitantly with other handicapping conditions (e.g., sensory impairment), dyrationalia is a level of rationality, as demonstrated in thinking and behavior, that is significantly below the level of the individual's intellectual capacity (as determined by an individually administered IQ test). (18)
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animetedpolitick · 1 year
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Xenoblade Chronicles 2
So. This was not what I was expecting at all. Whilst I do love my game cutscenes, I do not know for sure if this was exactly to my taste—however, I will admit that there was plot in there, in the sizable cutscenes found in this game, and I laude it for such. But being that the only real thing I got out of this film? Anime? I do not know… was that the blades are actually human like? And there are different kinds, I will now go into a philosophy rant on the subject of personhood and humanity and the continuity of identity.
I am not entirely sure but the blades seem like humans, but they are not actually? But are they people? In this question, it begs us to consider the relationship of humanity and personhood. Personhood and humanity are not inherent within each other. Personhood, as defined, is a subject that is part of a moral community. There are many different theories as to the exact definition and the delineations of what it means to be a person. Humanity, I would argue, is simply based on genetics—a human body, a human organ, a human tissue, a human cell… but personhood is defined cognitively and upon a gradient. I personally subscribe to the cognitive theory and the more utilitarian theory of personhood, which the Blades all exhibit in their mental and communicative capacities. I will not get into the boring philosophy stuff in this post, but basically the Blades meet the criteria. Although they may not be humans, they are still people.
However, there is still another piece of the puzzle: their memory. They do not have the same memories all the time as it changes with who is controlling them. According to Locke’s theories regarding the continuity of identity, identity is tied with the chains of memory—you are the same person as you were as those memories you keep. Thus I may argue that the Blades are not the same person all the time—they may exhibit some sort of continuity in their essence, but their memories keep them from being the people they were before they lost them.
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crystalsenergy · 3 years
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how to improve Saturn placements? - evolving our personality #1
the purpose of this text is to bring a possibility to improve negative points in us from other positions [which you may or may not have in your natal chart]. sometimes the potential for improvement is already outlined as a trend inside yourself. other times the potential will need to be created. but as long as you assume that you need to improve, you are already taking the first step.
I'm going to put positions according to this post here about the shadows of our personality, leaving from the assumption that what brings us more suffering may be precisely in these positions cited in the post.
SATURN PLACEMENTS
Saturn in Aries / Saturn in 1st house -> Jupiter in 1st house
in other words, you need to learn to have more self-confidence, a dose of trusting yourself more easily, being less afraid of starting things, getting to know something new, or picking up on something you've already started. you need more willpower, to notice more positive things about yourself. it's also important to note that you may have a tendency to be more closed in admitting your problems. the construction of awareness about your individuality needs to take place. you must be optimistic and less pessimistic about yourself and your potential.
Saturn in Taurus / Saturn in 2nd house -> Venus in 2nd house / Venus in Taurus
Saturn in Taurus or in the 2nd house brings the problem of lack of self-worth, of not being able to feel good enough for some situations. there may be a certain pessimism (not as strong as that of Saturn in the 9th house), but a "certainty" that things won't work out in the area of ​​finance and love. it may be that ppl feel bad about they value to someone, it may be that they have trouble finding satisfaction in things, they may have difficulty feeling loved enough and/or supplied by the things around them. thus, those who have this placement need to notice patterns in themselves of not valuing themselves, not feeling good enough for a specific goal or person. self-worth in the sense of beauty, aesthetics and value seen by others is something to be worked on, primarily from the inside. taking as an example Venus in Taurus, excellent position to notice where you need to improve, it is important that you see your value, know how to relax, enjoy small pleasures in life, learn to invest in yourself, see the value of money and your efforts, and always continue to be persistent.
Saturn in Gemini / Saturn in 3rd house -> Mercury in Gemini / Mars in 3rd house
considering what a native with Saturn in Gemini or in the 3rd house tends to feel, it's important that these people learn to incorporate some points, which necessarily need to include: self-confidence in speech and ability to express themselves without censorship. this can be helped especially by Mercury in Gemini and Mars in the 3rd house (or also Mars in Gemini). It's important that you understand the need to speak what you think, not unthinkingly - which I imagine would be very difficult to happen, knowing this position -, but in a more confident way, even a little impulsive in some situations (emphasizing: some situations). It's important to allow your head to function naturally with regard to your mental processes and thoughts so that you will learn to express yourself without so many internal limitations.
Saturn in Cancer / Saturn in 4th house -> Uranus in 4th house
in other words, you need to develop less emotional dependency. you must be more open about your inner life, and you must learn to develop a healthy dichotomy, not the duality that this placement tends to bring: Saturn in Cancer / in the 4th house brings a tendency to become more emotionally closed, conveying an impression to others that you are very well resolved and live well with almost everything in life. this is a need Saturn gives to people: need for control. but this control may not always be healthy, as it's most often. Saturn tends to create a strong possibility of extreme behaviors, due to the internal fear and rigidity that are generated. the person is constantly closing in, but she/he is extremely vulnerable. however, what must be learned from Uranus in the 4th house is another duality, a little healthier and more advantageous for those who have this position: that of being more open about internal issues, but also not being dependent.
Saturn in Leo / Saturn in 5th house -> Sun in Leo
there is no way for me to talk about improving this Saturn placement without mentioning Sun in Leo. bearing in mind that Saturn in Leo and the 5th house gives a tendency to ppl feel less able to express themselves, less able to show the world their potential, their abilities, or simply appearing, it's important that the opposite is nurtured by the native: it's necessary to understand that yes, you have an individual power, you have potential that can be worked, we all do. you have the capacity to achieve something, to ascend, to lead, if necessary. and it's also necessary to work on the idea of ​​self-esteem and on the construction of a less fragile ego (which exists in a healthy Sun in Leo).
Saturn in Virgo / Saturn in 6th house -> Mars in Virgo, Uranus in 6th house
two things need to be worked on at the same time: discipline and your ability to be less rigid. yes, it's quite dual, almost opposite. but that's what happens with Saturn in Virgo / Saturn in the 6th house, often the natives can't move because of an excessive concern with details, because they think too much about everything, charge themselves even before the task is started, which it brings an air of rigidity and discipline, but it's exactly what keeps them from moving out of place: excess. with regard to the excess rigidity that causes a person to freeze, Uranus in the 6th house can help, given the energy of more unpredictability and independence from patterns and the like. another thing that is also likely to occur with this Saturn placement is procrastination and wasting time on frivolous things, as well as an aura of laziness (which creates tremendous guilt). with regard to this problem, Mars in Virgo (or Mars in the 6th house) can help, as this placement of Mars is pure fuel to be practical, agile, diligent and organized.
Saturn in Libra / Saturn in 7th house -> Venus in Libra, Uranus in 7th house
this position generates in people a dichotomy of being closed to love and emotional situations, but, at the same time, being very dependent on loving relationships, for fear of loss, of being alone. to the point of a person who blocks too much from getting into relationships, Venus in Libra can help by bringing a desire to be with someone in a healthier way, from the idea of ​​sharing something with the other person, of living together and feel good from the company of other. on the other hand, as it's also necessary to take care of the dependency issue, Uranus in the 7th house is very useful, so that the person doesn't have an extreme need for the other to the point of getting lost in the middle of it and not being able to go out anymore. It's important to be open to love, but always understanding that a little independence, valuing the individuality of the other, can also be good.
Saturn in Scorpio / Saturn in 8th house -> Mars in Scorpio, Uranus in 8th house
these Saturn placements bring a great fear of change, an aversion to being psychologically open. here, there is a person who seems impenetrable because he/she hides his/her fears, traumas and problems. these people don't like to break taboos. for being somewhat conservative and closed minded to everything that the sign and the house placed means, it's very important that they know the need to be more open to different circumstances of life. it's important to understand that it's part of life: being intimate with others, knowing deeper and even 'dark' sides of yourself, understanding sex as something natural (Mars in Scorpio will help with these things); besides it's also important to understand that it's part of life to have psychological transformations, a greater openness to taboos and to understand human complexity (Uranus in the 8th house will help with this). thus, you'll be able to reach another level in your life.
Saturn in Sagittarius / Saturn in 9th house -> Uranus in 9th house
one of the marks of Saturn in Sagittarius is the issue of redemption to some philosophy or ready-made idea that aims to explain life. here, the native has a great fear of being impacted by the depth of knowledge - depth that marks the uncertainty of life and its ephemerality -, and therefore, the tendency of this native is to hide behind a philosophy or 'certainty' that supports and gives comfort. therefore, people tend to close themselves off and live in a tremendous comfort zone, or rather a bubble, in which only what they have decided to accept as the general premise of their life makes sense. it can also generate a lot of pessimism, a more closed and even prejudiced view of other people. thus, it's more than necessary to understand that life is much more than what you heard in some corner when you were child and that you share within yourself today, there are several truths, but none of them is absolute. and that's the grace of life, knowing more and more, and understanding the value of diversity and the impossibility of being sure of something all the time. open up to other philosophies of life, religion, get out of your comfort zone, question things and your limiting beliefs more. don't cover yourself so much in relation to higher education and have more autonomy when knowing a deeper subject, don't depend on someone for that. all of this can be learned through Uranus in the 9th house.
Saturn in Capricorn / Saturn in 10th house -> Mars in Capricorn
this position of Saturn is one of the least painful that Saturn can bring, however, on the other hand, it can increase in the dose of rigidity and vision totally focused on what is concrete, objective, earthly, forgetting other sides of life. and despite not being one of the worst positions to have on Saturn, it brings many difficulties with regard to career and achieving goals. either because the person feels incapable, having some internal blockage, a mistaken idea of ​​her/himself, of her/his potential, or because during her life the person ends up encountering many barriers to finally ascend professionally. in this situation, it's extremely necessary for the native to use all the energy she/he has in order to put the will and potential out. this is made possible more powerfully by what represents Mars in Capricorn, a placement of great ambition, but which represents the capacity that may be lacking in these placements of Saturn.
Saturn in Aquarius / Saturn in 11th house -> Venus in Aquarius, Uranus in 11th house
one of the things that these positions bring most difficulty to a person is the tendency for them to exclude themselves from others, either for fear of group acceptance, or for not feeling good about being with other people, preferring solitude. this positioning brings a behavior of being more independent, having few friends and being more closed to others. you may also be more closed-minded to try original, new, and surprising things, even if you have the creativity to do so. another problem to be faced is a strong tendency not to trust people. Venus in Aquarius and Uranus in the 11th house help with this because the first placement is more focused on living in a group, making friends, representing a more sociable person, and the second doesn't fail to cultivate people's independence, but still remains open to friendships.
Saturn in Pisces / Saturn in 12th house -> Sun in Pisces, Moon in Pisces
this is a dense, complicated position, which gives people a feeling that they must be completely rigid and closed to their inner life, their inner space, but the more people try to escape, the more they are led to face this side of their personality. this position represents problems with mental health, issues of closing oneself to deeper contacts with people, difficulty with empathy, altruism. the person can be made to think more often about life, and have existential crises. Moon in Pisces and Sun in Pisces can help with these strong sensations as the placements bring greater openness to introspection, which makes the person less tempted to close off from the inner reflections - which will arise!! -, making the person too able to be more selfless and to show her/his compassion and empathy for others more openly.
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warsofasoiaf · 3 years
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Writing Characters With Believable Military PTSD
I typically write these writing and worldbuilding essays from a dispassionate perspective, offering advice and context to prospective writers from as neutral a point of view as I can manage, with the goal being to present specific pieces of information and broader concepts that can hopefully improve writing and build creators’ confidence to bring their projects to fruition, whether that be writing, tabletop gaming, video game programming, or anything that suits their fancy. While writing this essay though, I struggled to maintain that perspective. Certainly, the importance of the topic to me was a factor, but ultimately, I saw impersonality just as a suboptimal presentation method for something so intensely personal. I do maintain some impartiality particularly in places where historical or academic context is called for, but in other respects I’ve opted for a different approach. Ultimately, this essay is a labor of love for me, love for those who suffer from military PTSD, love for those who love those who suffer from it, and love for writers who want to, in the way that they so choose, help those two other groups out. Thus, this is a different type of essay in certain segments than my usual fare; I hope the essay isn’t an unreadable chimera because of it.
This essay focuses on military-related PTSD. While there are some concepts that translate well into PTSD in the civilian sphere, there are unique elements that do not necessarily fit the mold in both directions, so for someone hoping to write a different form of PTSD, I would recommend finding other resources that could better suit your purposes. I also recommend using more than one source just in general, trauma is personal and so multiple sources can help provide a wide range of experiences to draw upon, which should hopefully improve any creative work.
And as a final introductory note, traumatic experiences are deeply personal. If you are using someone you know as a model for your writing, you owe it to that person to communicate exactly what you are doing and to ask their permission every step of the way. I consider it a request out of politeness to implore any author who uses someone else’s experiences to inform their writing in any capacity, but when it comes to the truly negative experiences in someone’s life, this rises higher from request to demand. You will ask someone before taking a negative experience from their own life and placing it into your creative works, and you will not hide anything about it from them. Receiving it is a great sign of trust. The opposite is a travesty, robbing someone of a piece of themselves and placing it upon display as a grotesque exhibit. And if that sounds ghoulish and macabre, it’s because it is, without hyperbole. Don’t do it.
Why Write PTSD?
What is the purpose of including PTSD in a creative work? There have been plenty of art therapy actions taken by those who suffer PTSD to create something from their condition, which can be as profound for those who do not have it as it is therapeutic for those that do, but why would someone include it in their creative works, and why is some no-name guy on the internet writing an essay offering tips as to how to do it better?
Certainly, one key element is that it’s real, and it happens. If art is to reflect upon reality, PTSD suffered by soldiers is one element of that, so art can reflect it, but what specifically about PTSD, as opposed to any other facet of existence? Author preference certainly plays a factor, but why would someone try to include something that is difficult to understand and difficult to portray? While everyone comes to their own reason, I think that a significant number of people are curious about what exactly goes on in the minds of someone suffering through PTSD, and creative works allow them a way to explore it, much the way fiction can explore scenarios and emotions that are either unlikely or unsafe to explore in reality. If that’s the case, then the purpose of this essay is rather simple, to make the PTSD examination more grounded in reality and thus a better reflection of it. But experiences are unique even if discernable patterns emerge, so in that sense, no essay created by an amateur writer with no psychological experience could be an authoritative take on reality, the nature of which would is far beyond the scope of this essay.
For my own part, I think that well-done creative works involving PTSD is meant to break down the isolation that it can cause in its wake. Veterans suffering may feel that they are alone, that their loved ones cannot understand them and the burden of trying to create that would simply push them away; better instead to have the imperfect bonds that they currently have than risk losing them entirely. For those who are on the outside looking in, isolation lurks there as well, a gulf that seems impossible to breach and possibly intrusive to even try. Creative works that depict PTSD can help create a sense that victims aren’t alone, that there are people that understand and can help without demeaning the sense of self-worth. Of course, another element would be to reduce the amount of poorly-done depictions of PTSD. Some creative works use PTSD as a backstory element, relegating a defining and important element of an individual’s life as an aside, or a minor problem that can be resolved with a good hug and a cry or a few nights with the right person. If a well-done creative work can help create a bridge and break down isolation, a poorly-done one can turn victims off, reinforcing the idea that no one understands and worse, no one cares. For others, it gives a completely altered sense of what PTSD is and what they could do to help, keeping them out, confusing them, or other counter-productive actions. In that sense, all the essay is to help build up those who are doing the heavy lifting. I’m not full of so much hubris as to think this is a profound piece of writing that will help others, but if creators are willing to try and do the hard work of building a bridge, I could at least try to help out and provide a wheelbarrow.
An Abbreviated Look At The Many Faces and Names of PTSD Throughout History
PTSD has been observed repeatedly throughout human history, even when it was poorly understood. This means that explorations of PTSD can be written in settings even if they did not have a distinctly modern understanding of neurology, trauma, or related matters. These historical contexts are also useful for worldbuilding a believable response in fictional settings and scenarios that don’t necessarily have a strict analogue in our own history. By providing this historical context, hopefully I can craft a broad-based sense of believable responses to characters with PTSD at a larger level.
In the time of Rome, it was understood by legionnaires that combat was a difficult endeavor, and so troops were typically on the front lines engaged in combat for short periods of time, to be rotated back for rest while others took their place. It was considered ideal, in these situations, to rotate troops that fought together back so that they could rest together. The immediate lesson is obvious, the Romans believed that it was vital for troops to take time to process what they had done and that was best served with quiet periods of rest not just to allow the adrenaline to dissipate (the "combat high"), but a chance for the mind to wrap itself around what the legionnaire had done. The Romans also recognized that camaraderie between fellow soldiers helped soldiers to cope, and this would be a running theme throughout history (and remains as such today). Soldiers were able to empathize with each other, and help each other through times of difficulty. This was not all sanguine, however, Roman legions depended on their strong formations, and a soldier that did not perform their duty could endanger the unit, and so shame in not fulfilling their duty was another means to keep soldiers in line. The idea of not letting down your fellow soldiers is a persistent refrain in coping with the traumas of war, and throughout history this idea has been used for both pleasant and unpleasant means of keeping soldiers in the fight.
In the Middle Ages, Geoffroi de Charny wrote extensively on the difficulties that knights could experience on the campaign trail in his Book of Chivalry. The book highlights the deprivation that knights suffered, from the bad food and poor sleep to the traumatic experience of combat to being away from family and friends to the loss of valued comrades to combat and infection; each of these is understood as a significant stressor that puts great strain on the mental health of soldiers up to today. De Charny recommended focusing on the knightly oaths of service, the needs of the mission of their liege, and the duty of the knight to serve as methods to help bolster the resolve of struggling knights. The book also mentions seeking counseling and guidance from priests or other confidants to help improve their mental health to see their mission through. This wasn’t universal, however. Some severely traumatized individuals were seen as simple cowards, and punished harshly for their perceived cowardice as antithetical to good virtue and to serve as an example.
World War I saw a sharp rise in the reported incidents of military-related PTSD and new understandings and misunderstandings. The rise in the number of soldiers caused a rise in cases of military PTSD, even though the term itself was not known at the time. Especially in the early phases of the war, many soldiers suffering from PTSD were thought to be malingering, pretending to have symptoms to avoid being sent to the front lines. The term “shell shock” was derived because it was believed that the concussive force of artillery bombardment caused brain damage as it rattled the skull or carbon monoxide fumes would damage the brain as they were inhaled, as a means to explain why soldiers could have physical responses such as slurred speech, lack of response to external stimuli, even nigh-on waking catatonia, despite not being hit by rifle rounds or shrapnel. This would later be replaced by the term “battle fatigue” when it became apparent that artillery bombardment was not a predicative indicator. Particularly as manpower shortages became more prevalent, PTSD-sufferers could be sent to firing squads as a means to cow other troops to not abandon their post. Other less fatal methods of shaming could occur, such as the designation “Lack of Moral Fibre,” an official brand of cowardice, as an attempt to shame the members into remembering their duty. As the war developed, and understanding grew, better methods of treatment were made, with rest and comfort provided to slight cases, strict troop rotations observed to rotate men to and from the front lines, and patients not being told that they were being evacuated for nervous breakdown to avoid cementing that idea in their mind. These lessons would continue into World War II, where the term “combat stress reaction” was adopted. While not always strenuously followed, regular rotations were adopted as standard policy. This was still not universal, plenty of units still relied upon bullying members into maintaining their post despite mental trauma.
The American military promotes a culture of competence and ability, particularly for the enlisted ranks, and that lends itself to the soldier viewing themselves in a starkly different fashion than a civilian. Often, a soldier sees the inability to cope with a traumatic experience as a personal failure stemming from the lack of mental fortitude. Owning up to such a lack of capability is tantamount to accepting that they are an inferior soldier, less capable than their fellows. This idea is commonly discussed, and should not be ignored, but it is far from the only reason. The military also possesses a strong culture of fraternity that obligates “Don’t be a fuckup,” is a powerful motivating force, and it leads plenty of members of the military to ignore traumatic experiences out of the perceived need not to put the burden on their squadmates. While most professional militaries stress that seeking mental health for trauma is not considered a sign of weakness, enlisted know that if they receive mental health counseling, it is entirely likely that someone will have to take their place in the meantime. That could potentially mean that another person, particularly in front-line units, are exposed to danger that they would otherwise not be exposed to, potentially exacerbating guilt if said person gets hurt or killed. This is even true in stateside units, plenty of soldiers don’t report for treatment because it would mean dumping work on their fellows, a negative aspect of unit fraternity. Plenty of veterans also simply never are screened for mental health treatment, and usually this lends to a mentality of “well, no one is asking, so I should be fine.” These taken together combine to a heartbreaking reality, oftentimes a modern veteran that seeks help for mental trauma has often coped silently for years, perhaps self-medicating with alcohol or off-label drug usage, and is typically very far along their own path comparatively. Others simply fall through the cracks, not being screened for mental disorders and so do not believe that anything is wrong; after all, if something was wrong, surely the doctors would notice it, right? The current schedule of deployments, which are duration-based and not mission-based, also make it hard for servicemembers to rationalize their experiences and equate them to the mission; there’s no sense of pairing suffering to objectives the way that de Charnay mentioned could help contextualize the deprivation and loss. These sorts of experiences make the soldier feel adrift, and their suffering pointless, which is discouraging on another level. It is one thing to suffer for a cause, it’s another not to know why, amplifying the feelings of powerlessness and furthering the isolation that they feel.
Pen to Page - The Characters and Their Responses
The presentation of PTSD within a character will depend largely on the point-of-view that the author creates. A character that suffers from PTSD depending on the presence of an internal or external point-of-view, will be vastly different experiences on page. Knowing this is essential, as this will determine how the story itself is presenting the disorder. Neither is necessarily more preferable than the other, and is largely a matter of the type of story being told and the personal preference of the author.
Internal perspectives will follow the character’s response from triggering event to immediate response. This allows the author to present a glimpse into what the character is experiencing. In these circumstances, remember that traumatic flashbacks are merely one of many experiences that an average sufferer of PTSD can endure. In a visual medium, flashbacks are time-effective methods to portray a character reliving portions of a traumatic experience, but other forms of media can have other tools. Traumatic flashbacks are not necessarily a direct reliving of an event from start to finish, individuals may instead feel sudden sharp pains of old injuries, be overwhelmed by still images of traumatic scenes or loud traumatic sounds. These can be linked to triggers that bring up the traumatic incident, such as a similar sight, sound, or smell. These moments of linkage are not necessarily experienced linearly or provide a clear sequence of events from start to finish (memory rarely is unless specifically prompted), and it may be to the author’s advantage to not portray them as such in order to communicate the difficulty in mental parsing that the character may be experiencing. Others might be more intrusive, such as violently deranged nightmares that prevent sleep. The author must try to strike a balance between portraying the experience realistically and portraying it logically that audience members can understand. The important thing about these memories is that they are intrusive, unwelcome, and quite stressful, so using techniques that jar the reader, such as the sudden intrusive image of a torn body, a burning vehicle, or another piece of the traumatic incident helps communicate the disorientation. Don't rely simply on shock therapy, it's not enough just to put viscera on the page. Once it is there, the next steps, how the character reacts, is crucial to a believable response.
When the character experiences something that triggers their PTSD, start to describe the stress response, begin rapidly shortening the sentences to simulate the synaptic activity, express the fight-flight-freeze response as the character reacts, using the tools of dramatic action to heighten tension and portraying the experience as something frightful and distinctly undesirable. The triggering incident brings back the fear, such as a pile of rubble on the side of the road being a potential IED location, or a loud firework recalling the initial moments of an enemy ambush. The trauma intrudes, and the character falls deep into the stress response, and now they react. How does this character react? By taking cover? By attacking the aggressor who so reminds them of the face of their enemy? Once the initial event starts, then the character continues to respond. Do they try to get to safety? Secure the area and eliminate the enemy? Eventually, the character likely recognizes their response is inappropriate. It wasn’t a gunshot, it was a car backfiring, the smell of copper isn’t the sight of a blown-apart comrade and the rank odor of blood, it’s just a jug of musty pennies. This fear will lead to control mechanisms where the victim realizes that their response is irrational. Frequently, the fear is still there, and it still struggles with control. This could heighten a feeling a powerlessness in the character as they try and fail to put the fear under control: "Yes, I know this isn’t real and there’s nothing to be afraid of, but I’m still shaking and I am still afraid!" It’s a horrifying logical track, a fear that the victim isn’t even in control of their thoughts - the one place that they should have control - and that they might always be this way. There’s no safety since even their thoughts aren’t safe. Despair might also follow, as the victim frantically asserts to regain control. Usually with time, the fear starts to lessen as the logical centers of the brain regain control, and the fear diminishes. Some times, the victim can't even really recall the exact crippling sense of fear when attempting to recall it, only that they were afraid and that it was deeply scary and awful, but the notion that it happened remains in their mind.
Control mechanisms are also important to developing a believable PTSD victim. Most sufferers dread the PTSD response and so actively avoid objects or situations that could potentially trigger. Someone who may have had to escape from a helicopter falling into the ocean may not like to be immersed in water. Someone who was hit by a hidden IED may swerve to avoid suspicious piles in the road. Someone buried under a collapsing ceiling may become claustrophobic. Thus, many characters with PTSD will be hypervigilant almost to the point of exhaustion, avoiding setting off the undesired response. This hypervigilance is mentally taxing; the character begins to become sluggish mentally as all their energy is squeezed out, leaving them struggling for even the simplest of rational thoughts. This mental fog can be translated onto the page in dramatic effect by adding paragraph length to even simple actions, bringing the reader along into the fog, laboriously seeing the character move to perform simple actions. Then, mix in a loss of a sense of purpose. They’re adrift, not exactly sure what they’re doing and barely aware of what’s happening, although they are thinking and functioning. In the character’s daily life, they are living their life using maximum effort to avoid triggering responses; this is another aspect of control that the character can use as an attempt to claw back some semblance of power in their own lives. Even control methods that aren’t necessarily healthy such as drinking themselves to pass out every night or abusing sleeping pills in an attempt to sleep due to their nightmares, are ways to attempt to regain a sense of normalcy and function. Don’t condescend to these characters and make them pathetic, that’s just another layer of cruelty, but showing the unhealthy coping mechanisms can demonstrate the difficulty that PTSD victims are feeling. Combined with an external perspective, the author can show the damage that these unhealthy actions are doing without casting the character as weak for not taking a different path.
External perspectives focus on the other characters and how they observe and react to the individual in question. Since the internal thought process of the character is not known, sudden reactions to an unknown trigger can be quite jarring for characters unaware, which can mirror real-life experiences that individuals can have with PTSD-sufferers. In these types of stories, the character’s reaction to the victim is paramount. PTSD in real life often evokes feelings of helplessness in loved ones when they simply cannot act to help, can evoke confusion, or anger and resentment. These reactions are powerful emotions with the ability to drive character work, and so external perspectives can be useful for telling a story about what it is like for loved ones who suffer in their own fashion. External perspectives can be used not just in describing triggering episodes, but in exploring how the character established coping mechanisms and how their loved ones react to them. Some mechanisms are distinctly unhealthy, such as alcohol or prescription drug abuse, complete withdrawal, or a refusal to drive vehicles, and these create stress and a feeling of helplessness in characters or can impel them to try and take action. Others can be healthy, and a moment of inspiration and joy for an external perspective could be sharing in that mechanism, demonstrating empathy and understanding which evokes strong pathos, and hopefully to friends of those who suffer from PTSD, a feeling that they too, are not alone.
As the character progresses, successes and failures can often be one of the most realistic and most important things to include within the work, since those consumers who have PTSD will see parts of themselves in the characters, which can build empathy and cut down on the feelings of isolation that many victims of PTSD feel. A character could, over the course of the story, begin weaning themselves off of their control mechanisms, have the feelings of panic subside as their logical sides more quickly assert control, replace unhealthy coping mechanisms with healthier ones, or other elements of character progression and growth. Contrarily, a character making progress could, after experiencing significant but unrelated stressors, backslide either into unhealthy coping mechanisms or be blindsided by another attack. This is a powerful fear for the victim, since it can cause them to think ‘all my progress, all my effort, and I am not free!’ This is often a great fear for PTSD users (people with depression often have the same feeling) that find methods of coping are no longer as effective, and the struggle is perceived as one that they’re ultimately doomed to failure. This feeling of inevitable failure can lead to self-harm and suicide as their avenue of success seems to burn to ash right as it was in their hands. More than one soldier suffering from PTSD has ended up concluding: “Fuck it, I can’t live like this,” as horrible as that is. Don’t be afraid to include setbacks and backsliding, those happen in reality, and can be one of the most isolating fears in their lives; if the goal of portraying PTSD accurately is to help remove that feeling of isolation, then content creators must not avoid these experiences. Success as well as failure are essential to PTSD in characters in stories, these elements moreso than any other, I believe, will transcend the medium and form a connection, fulfilling the objective we set out to include in the beginning paragraphs.
Coming Back to the Beginning
It might be counterintuitive at first glance to say “including military PTSD will probably mean it will be a long journey full of discouraging story beats that might make readers depressed,” because that’s definitely going to discourage some readers to do that. I don’t see it that way, though. The people that want to do it should go in knowing it’s going to be hard, and let that strengthen their resolve, and put the best creation they can forward. The opposite is also true. Not every prospective author has to want to include any number of difficult subjects in their works, and that’s perfectly fine. Content creators must be free to shape the craft that they so desire without the need to be obligated to tackle every difficult issue, and so no content creator should be thought of as lesser or inferior because they opt not to include it in their works. I think that’s honestly stronger than handling an important topic poorly, or even worse, frivolously. Neither should anyone think that a content creator not including PTSD in their works means that they don’t care about those who suffer from it or for those who care about them or who simply don’t care about the subject in general. That’s just a terrible way to treat someone, and in the end, this entire excursion was about the opposite
Ultimately, this essay is a chance not only to help improve creative works involving PTSD, but to reflect on the creative process. Those who still want to proceed, by all means, do so. Hopefully this essay will help you create something that can reach someone. If every piece of work that helps portray PTSD can reach someone somewhere and make things easier, even if ever so little, well then, that’s what it’s really all about.
Hoping everyone has a peaceful Memorial Day. Be good to each to other.
SLAL
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Stuck
Prompts: Uhh hi. Wanted to know if you could write something with Logan brin hurt (emotionally, mentally, physically, doesn't matter as long as he's hurt) and Patton, Virgil, and Roman aren't there for him for whatever reason so Remus and Janus take care of Logan and there's a lot of Logan being pulled into and set on laps and just Janus and Roman being Protective? I'm a sucker for hurt logan and Protective Janus and Remus. Okay thanks, have a good time. - anon
 hey there! i absolutely love your fanfics! if possible (and feel free to ignore this), could you write some roloceit angst and hurt/comfort? perhaps with roman being the comforter and logan or janus being the hurt one? again, feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to write this, no pressure - anon
 Can I request some Janus and Virgil or Logan cuddles? - anon
 The answer to all of the above is yes and we switch RIGHT back into projecting-onto-Logan mode!
Read on Ao3
Pairings: roloceit, background platonic lamp, dlamp, dlampr
Warnings: stimming, getting caught in a stim loop
Word Count:  4558
Occasionally, Logan will get stuck.
 Not in a logic loop, no, he’s quite adept at getting out of those, but in certain patterns of behavior. He’ll find himself absentmindedly swinging his arm back and forth and the moment he notices it, he will be unable to stop. It will simply swing there, back and forth, completely unconsciously, and only by someone else walking past and asking him what he’s doing, or tapping him, will he be able to stop.
For the most part, it’s just an annoying inconvenience. It takes him longer to do tasks than it should. It prevents him from engaging in serious conversations when necessary. Occasionally, Roman will also get stuck in a similar fashion and the two of them will shake their heads until they can unstick themselves.
 Other times…
 “Damnit, no, that’s not what I meant.”
 “Well, what did you mean? Because it kind of sounds like you don’t want me to be in your space at all, except your space is the entire Mindscape!”
 “Kiddos, just—calm down—“
 “We can’t, Padre, you know we can’t.”
 “Listen, this whole thing started because—“
 How did this whole thing start?
 Logan curls his fingers around his water bottle and leans back against the couch, closing his eyes as the others continue bickering.
 Thomas had gotten into a small argument earlier today. Nothing too significant, nothing that would drastically impede their friendship, nor chance a cut-off of communication. But enough to make Virgil shoot up protectively the second Thomas got back.
 Roman hadn’t wanted to do anything except immediately apologize. Patton had wanted to talk through everything with Thomas to make sure they understood it. Virgil hadn’t wanted to do anything because Thomas was already stressed.
 Logan—
 Well, Logan’s not sure what to do.
 He doesn’t want to—
 Well. He doesn’t want to do anything.
 Thomas should give his friend time to relax and get a clear head, giving himself time to do the same. They had both reacted emotionally due to the differences in the way they associate emotions with the things that they care about. Thus, in order to reach a conclusion that would satisfy both parties, they needed to determine the best way to explain their differences and work together. The problem arose when figuring out how to communicate something that innate.
 “If we try and say that this is just how we think,” Virgil says firmly, “we’re gonna come off as patronizing or condescending.”
 “But if we don’t say it at all,” Patton points out, “then we’re just going to hurt them again!”
 “So it would be best if we just went away?” Roman throws his hands up. “The first thing we have to do is apologize. We hurt them.”
 “But we’re not responsible for their emotions. We have to talk to them before we can do anything like apologize.”
 “But then it just sounds like we’re preaching at them!”
 “Think of it this way: if you knew that someone was specifically holding their emotions back so that you could feel better, how would you feel?”
 “That was not the right thing to say, Patton,” Virgil mutters under his breath.
 Logan taps his fingers against his water bottle. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
 “Roman—“
 “Putting that aside,” Virgil says quickly, “we have to talk about how—“
 They’ve been at this for—how long? Logan can’t remember. They’re feeding off of each other at this point, caught in a feedback loop. Roman will say something, Virgil will point out how that doesn’t make sense to him so how could it make sense to someone else, Patton will try and bring the conversation back to feelings, and on and on they spin. Logan has no emotional stake in this—not that he has much of an emotional stake in anything—and thus he tried to stay quiet, to let them speak.
 He’s already been asked to let them do so many times.
 So he sits quietly, tapping his fingers against his water bottle. Tap, tap, tap.
 “Do you just want me to leave? Should I get some paper plates for myself?”
 “No, kiddo, that’s not what we want—“
 “That would make me feel worse because then it feels like you aren’t comfortable down here.”
 “Well, I’m not! I’m already at max capacity, trying to figure out what you all need from this and all we’re doing is adding more rules for how I’m supposed to behave!”
 “Virgil,” Roman says, “what do you think the rules are? What are we missing about how Thomas is acting?”
 “I just told you all of them!”
 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 “But we don’t know what those rules are, if you were to just tell us—“
 “But you’ve told me them so many times, hell, I helped create some of them!”
 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 “But there may be rules that you see as rules that we don’t care about, so—“
 “Because it’s not your job to care about them, Princey.”
 “So help me understand! I don’t want to make this harder on you!”
 “You’re not responsible for my emotions.”
 “But I can’t think like that, Virgil. If I tell you to do something or—even if I just say something or bring it up then you’ll get mad at me and I hate it when you’re mad at me.”
 “But you’re not responsible for that.”
 “You’re still going to be mad at me!”
 “Damnit, no, that’s—no, Princey, that’s not true.”
 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
 Their voices keep getting louder. His tapping grows frantic. They ring in his ears, even with his eyes closed he can see their faces. He can see Virgil’s eyeshadow getting deeper, he can see Roman’s expressions getting more defined, he can see Patton getting slowly more frustrated. He can hear the tension in the room about to snap.
 They’re all about to start yelling at each other and he can’t do anything to stop it.
 All he can do is tap, tap, tap, on his water bottle.
 “What’re you all shouting about?”
 “Go away, Remus.”
 “Oh, but I just love showing up where I’m not invited.”
 Something heavy lands on the couch next to Logan. He does not look up from his water bottle, he does not open his eyes, his fingers do not stop tap, tap, tapping.
 “Remus, don’t do that, you almost landed right on…”
 Virgil’s voice trails off.
 “…Logan?”
 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 “Logan, are you okay?”
 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 “Fuck, guys, shut up.”
 “Virgil!”
 “Language, kiddo.”
 “No, really, guys, Logan’s not okay, be quiet.”
 Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
 “But I think it’s interesting how—“
 “No, guys, really,” Virgil says again, his tempest tongue coming out a little, “shut up.”
 “Lolo?”
 Ah, that must be Remus. A soft voice beside him, blocking out the others into a distant murmur, a warm hand on his shoulder.
 “Lolo, can you hear me?”
 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 Remus curses. “I’m taking this.”
 “Rem—!”
 Logan doesn’t hear the rest of Patton’s cry as Remus grabs him by the shoulder and sinks out, into another living room, perhaps, judging by the fact that they land on a very similar couch.
 “It’s okay, Lolo,” Remus murmurs, rubbing gentle circles into his shoulder, “you’re okay, this won’t last forever. I already called for Jan-Jan.”
 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 “You’re doing great, just keep breathing, okay?”
 The water bottle cap smushes uncomfortably against Logan’s mouth, how long has he had it here?
 “You’re okay, Lolo, this won’t last forever, just stay with me.”
 The others aren’t here. No one is yelling. There will be no emotional spillover, everything will be okay. Everything is okay.
 Logan’s tapping grows less frantic, settling back into a smooth rhythm on the bottle.
 Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
 Remus’s hand never leaves his shoulder, still rubbing warm, patient circles.
 “They should’ve known better,” he mutters, mostly to himself, “fucking morons.”
 Something about Remus’s tone worms its way into Logan’s hands, gentling his fingers to a stop. He cups the smooth, cool metal of the water bottle and takes a deep breath. Remus stills.
 “…Lolo?”
 He blinks his eyes open.
 Well, he was correct. They are in the Dark Sides’s living room. He turns to look at Remus.
 “Be honest,” he says in a surprisingly even voice, “how red is my face right now?”
 Remus blinks. “Not one bit, actually.”
 “Well, that’s good.”
 “Yeah.” Remus looks down and gently tugs on the water bottle. “Can I have this?”
 “No, thank you.”
 “Okay. Can I hug you?”
 “Yes, why—oof!”
 To be honest, he probably should have expected to be all but tackled into the couch, considering that is the primary way Remus shows affection to Roman. Still, his back hits the sofa with a surprised gasp as Remus’s weight comes to rest on top of him.
 “A little warning next time would’ve been appreciated.”
 “Sorry.” Remus props himself up on his elbows. “Am I hurting you?”
 “I can’t imagine lying on top of a water bottle is very comfortable.”
 Remus lets him move it off his chest before flopping back down and snuggling closer.
 “You okay?”
 “I’m perfectly adequate.”
 “Not what I asked, Brainiac. You were stuck. And upset.”
 Logan quiets. Remus must be able to tell that he’s thinking; after a second, he turns and goes to pull away. The sudden absence of warm pressure above him hurts.
 “No—“ he catches onto Remus’s back— “stay?”
 “…Lolo,” Remus says quietly after a moment, “Lolo, move your arm a little.”
 “What? Why?”
 “Don’t want to hurt you when I lie back down, shift a bit.”
 Logan shifts, letting Remus settle back down on top of him and lift his arm over his shoulder. He rumbles, low in his chest, pressing Logan firmly against the couch.
 “Can we just…stay like this? For a bit?”
 “Sure, Lolo.”
 Remus is warm and solid, somehow radiating the energy that if anyone so much as tries to get near them right now he’ll gnaw their arm off. That’s not an empty threat. One of his hands flops off the couch, keeping his fingers just brushing the carpet. Logan takes a deep breath, feeling Remus move.
 Oh.
 Oh, dear.
 “What?”
 Did he say that out loud?
 “Yeah, you did.”
 “Hmm,” Logan mumbles, “well, that’s not ideal.”
 “Yeah, I gathered. But that’s kinda my thing so, spit it out, Lolo.”
 “I have come to the realization that I entered the stimming cycle while in my operative mode, which means that I cannot fully disengage from it until I know the problem is resolved.” Logan sighs. “Which I can’t do until I reestablish an emotional balance.”
 “Can you put that in layman’s terms?”
 He winces. “I don’t know if I can. My vocabulary tends to increase exponentially as my level of exhaustion climbs.”
 “Yeesh.” Remus sits up, sliding onto the floor and prompting an involuntary noise from Logan wondering where he’s going. “C’mere.”
 Remus hauls him into his lap. Logan’s a little too tall to fit his head under Remus’s chin, but Remus plants his face square in Logan’s collarbones and hangs on tight.
 “You’re gonna be fine, Lolo,” Remus says softly, “just…try and take a minute, yeah? Maybe you’ll be a little less exhausted.”
 “But I can’t, Remus,” he whispers, “I can’t—I can’t start calming down until the problem’s solved and I can’t solve the problem unless I—I—“
 “Ah, shh, shh,” Remus hushes, leaning back to place a finger against Logan’s mouth, “first off, you already explained it better than you did a moment ago, and second, the three of them actually are capable of solving their own problems.”
 He chuckles, clearly seeing the doubt expressed on Logan’s face.
 “I know it sounds impossible, but they have done it.”
 “Who has done what?”
 Logan whirls around to see Janus striding out of the shadows, nonchalantly tugging his gloves into place. Remus, of course, does not bother to keep them balanced and simply topples over, right on top of Logan.
 Janus raises an eyebrow at the display. “My, Remus, how graceful you’re getting to be.”
 “Thank you!”
 “That’s not—mm.” Janus rolls his eyes and looks at Logan. “Well, I must say, I certainly expected to see you here.”
 Logan’s fingers close absentmindedly around the water bottle. Janus’s gaze holds him tight.
 Tap, tap, tap.
 What—what’s happening? Janus won’t hurt him, Janus isn’t going to be angry at him—is he? Janus won’t have to go clean up his mess…right?
 “Remus, off.”
 “Hey, Lolo, it’s okay, you’re good, remember?”
 Logan blinks. Janus is crouched now, concern written plainly on his features. Remus’s hand is on his shoulder again, gently rubbing circles. His own hands tap gently on the surface of the water bottle.
 “My apologies.”
 “You’re good,” Remus says as Janus murmurs: “there’s no need for that, sweetie.”
 Logan sighs, stilling his hands and sitting up, letting Remus hook one leg around his back to pull him into his embrace. He leans his head into the middle of Logan’s back and hums.
 “Remus…rescued me,” he says eventually, “from the conversation going on with the others.”
 Janus makes a small ‘ah’ sound.
 “There were..heavy emotional investments coming from all sides,” Logan continues, “including making Virgil feel a little cornered.”
 “I’m sure that went well.”
 “It didn’t.” Logan shuts his eyes. “And now I am…I got stuck.”
 “With the water bottle?”
 He nods. “And I am currently unable to get…unstuck.”
 “Because your system still registers it as an incomplete task,” Janus murmurs, “and thus it won’t let you begin to decompress.”
 Logan nods.
 “Look at me, sweetie.”
 Janus smiles when he catches Logan’s gaze again. He holds out a hand. “Come here, let me help.”
 Logan goes to stand, only to be thwarted by Remus’s arms, still tightly around his waist.
 “No,” Remus mutters, muffled a little with his head in Logan’s back still, “my brain cell.”
 Janus frowns. “Remus…”
 “You wait your turn!”
 A giggle bubbles out of Logan’s throat. Janus narrows his eyes and his arms stretch, each curving around Logan’s sides to poke Remus.
 “Give. Me. My. Logan,” Janus says, punctuating each word with a poke. “My. Logan.”
 Remus squeaks, clutching Logan tightly, only making the giggles worse.
 “Give me my Logan,” Janus calls, still prodding Remus, “give him to me.”
 “Fine!”
 “There,” Janus coos, immediately taking advantage of the fact that all his arms are here and Logan is no longer being held to reel the logical Side in close, “that wasn’t so hard now was it?”
 The residual giggles don’t quite trail off as Janus pushes Logan’s glasses back up his nose and smiles.
 “Hi, sweetie.” His eyes widen when Logan can’t stop giggling. “I didn’t poke you now, little one, why’re you so giggly?”
 He shoots a mock scolding look over Logan’s shoulder.
 “You didn’t accidentally kidnap Patton, and not my Logan, did you?”
 “Nope, that’s the brainiac.”
 “Mm.”
 Why can’t he stop laughing? What’s happening? Why is—why is he stuck again?
 “Oh, oh, sweetie,” Janus’s voice comes from somewhere far away, “oh, little Logan, it’s alright, shh, shh, sweetie…”
 Why is Janus shushing him? He’s fine. Something swipes against his cheek.
 “Shh, shh, you come here, just come here for me, Logan, I’ve got you, you’re safe now…”
 Is he still laughing? His chest is still hitching and he can feel his diaphragm, so why does Janus sound so concerned?
 “It’s okay to cry, sweetie, it’s normal, from what it sounds like, you’ve been having a bit of a rough time.” Something against his cheek again. “Shh, shh, just come here…”
 Oh.
 Oh, he’s crying.
 Of course, as soon as he realizes that, he all but collapses into Janus’s chest and starts sobbing in earnest.
 “There, there, sweetie,” Janus coos instantly, cradling his limp form, “I’ve got you, you’re safe, little one, shh, shh, it’s alright.”
 Logan clutches as hard as he can to Janus’s cloak, fingers sliding off clumsily. Janus makes a noise and two hands come up to grip his, squeezing.
 “There you go, just focus on this for me, okay? Stay with me, Logan.”
 “What’s—what—wha’s happening?”
 “You’re crying, sweetie,” Janus says gently, “you’re overwhelmed and exhausted. Your system is trying to reset itself.”
 “But—but—it—but it hurts.”
 “Try not to fight it,” comes Remus’s voice from behind him, “let Janny hang onto you.”
 “That’s right.” Janus clutches him tighter. “You just stay right here, little Logan, in my arms, in my lap, let me look after you.”
 “‘M not little.”
 “You’re all little to me, sweetie.”
 Remus snorts. “Just because you’re a giant to everyone else aside from when Virgil gets tall doesn’t mean you have to be so snobby about it.”
 “On the contrary, it means I have the right to look down on you all.”
 Despite himself, Logan snorts. An interesting experience when combined with a sob, to be sure, but it happens. Janus chuckles, still hugging him tightly.
 “That’s it, sweetie, it’s alright. It seems like you’re coming to the end of it now, just a little longer, you’re doing wonderfully…”
 Logan takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly…slowly…there.
 “Sweetie?” A hand ruffles through his hair. “Sweetie, are you with me?”
 “Yes,” Logan mumbles, “yes, I’m—I’m here.”
 “Good.” Janus presses a kiss to his cheek. “That seemed like a lot, sweetie, are you alright?”
 “…hurts.”
 “What hurts, Logan, what can I do?”
 “Just…” he leans a little further into Janus’s embrace. “Stay?”
 Janus chuckles. “Of course, sweetie. Do you want to talk about it?”
 Logan shakes his head. “Ask—ask Remus.”
 “Remus?”
 As Remus explains what happened, Logan closes his eyes and does his very best to relax, more than sagging unconsciously into Janus’s arms. Everything is so…fuzzy, almost pixelated, as though he’s struggling to keep his focus here and now. He feels as though he’s fading in between…layers? Is that the right word? Layers of being stuck and unstuck, drifting without ever really making his home in one or the other. If he lets himself slip too much, he’ll get stuck in a loop of nothingness, unable to move or do anything. If he winds himself up too much or tries to focus too hard, he’ll get stuck in another stim cycle.
 Janus makes a soft noise and a hand scratches lightly through his hair.
 “I’m sorry, sweetie,” comes the voice in his ear, “that sounds awful.”
 “It’s not their fault.”
 “No, I know that, but still.” Janus kisses his forehead. “That doesn’t make it easier for you.”
 “And they should know better,” Remus growls, sending another jolt of warmth through Logan’s chest.
 “We can’t just forbid them from hurting Logan ever again.”
 “Why not?”
 “Because it’s terribly impractical, Remus, you know this.”
 Remus’s theatrical sigh almost makes him seem like Roman. The arms that attach themselves like limpets around his waist a moment later, though, are definitely Remus.
 “This okay?”
 “Mhmm.”
 “Good.” Remus’s head finds a home in between Logan’s shoulder blades. “We’re all just gonna sit here for a moment, okay?”
 “Okay.”
 Janus ruffles Remus’s hair and bends down to murmur in Logan’s ear.
 “Do you want to fall asleep here, sweetie?”
 That’s enough to rouse him. “No. If I do that, it will be…not good.”
 Janus nods. “Then let’s have you stay here for a little longer, then get you to your room for a shower and something to eat, hmm?”
 “Yes, please, thank you.”
 “Of course, sweetie.”
 Sure enough, a few minutes later, when Janus gently prompts him up, Logan wraps his arms around Remus in a tight hug with a whispered thank-you before Janus sinks him out to his room. He passes Logan a granola bar and watches as he eats, chases it down with a glass of water.
 “Would you like to be left alone for this?”
 Logan nods.
 “Alright.” Janus cups the back of his neck to bring their foreheads together, kissing his cheek one last time. “Take care of yourself, alright, sweetie?”
 “I will.”
 “Good.”
 Janus sinks out and Logan goes to take a shower. It’s only muscle memory that gets him out of his clothes, into the shower, out of the shower, and into something softer. His mind is still fuzzy, unsure of whether it’s going to stick or not, accompanied by a slowly growing grayness in his chest. It spikes the instant he shuts off the water, making him much, much colder than he expects, threatening a whine in the back of his throat. It disappears a moment later but it leaves him shaken.
 It’s only when he opens his bathroom door and Roman turns around that he realizes what must’ve happened.
 Roman smiles softly, his hand coming up to reach for him. Logan comes, letting him take his hand and pull him close.
 “Hey, there, Specs,” Roman murmurs, “you’re all clean now, hmm?”
 “Yes, I—you—why—how—“
 “Janus came to have a talk with me,” Roman says, cutting off the rest of his babbling, “even though most of it I already knew. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you getting stuck earlier, I know that can’t’ve been easy.”
 “…it wasn’t.”
 “I’m glad our snake took care of you.”
 “Remus helped too.”
 “And Remus,” Roman amends, still smiling as he tugs Logan closer, “but you’re still…?”
 Logan’s face falls; he can tell by the way Roman makes a soft noise and raises a hand to tuck his hair back.
 “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “may I take care of you?”
 “You don’t have to.”
 “I know, I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Roman draws back a little to fix him with a look. “Because aside from your brain not knowing whether it’s going to get stuck again, I know two things are going on in there.”
 He softens a little.
 “Let me guess: part of you is trying to convince itself that either you are useless when it comes to emotions and thus we don’t need you, or that you don’t have emotions and therefore you shouldn’t be feeling like this.”
 Logan’s mouth drops open.
 “Am I right?”
 “You—how—“
 “Because I know you, my dearest darling nerd,” Roman murmurs, smiling, “and I know that you know both of those aren’t true, but perhaps you need a little reminder sometimes, hmm?”
 He steps a little closer.
 “Janus is very good at pulling you out of your head,” he continues, still trailing his fingers through Logan’s hair in a way that makes it very hard for Logan to disagree with him, “but he’s not very good at keeping you there, is he?”
 “He’s good to us,” Logan mumbles, because Janus is, and he’s not sure what he would’ve done if he hadn’t shown up.
 But at the same time…
 “Janus is always a good person to go to first,” Roman says, as if he can hear what’s going on in Logan’s head—which, can he? Because he was spot on a moment ago— “isn’t he?”
 Logan nods.
 “He’s better at the first part than me, you know I can’t stop myself from spoiling you.”
 Roman chuckles as Logan’s cheeks flush bright red.
 “But maybe you need to get spoiled right now,” he continues, getting close enough to brush his nose against Logan’s cheek, “hmm? Let me take care of you?”
 “R-Roman—“
 “I’m right here, sweetheart,” Roman soothes as Logan reaches for him, “I’m right here…”
 Roman lies them down, pulling the covers down to let Logan crawl into the bed first and tucking them both back in. He reaches up to carefully take hold of Logan’s glasses.
 “May I?”
 Logan nods. Roman slides them off carefully and folds them up, placing them on the table. Now everything really is fuzzy, Roman’s face staying out of focus until he leans back in, close enough to be clear.
 “Give me a second.” Logan blinks and Roman’s also wearing a soft T-shirt and pants, smiling down at him. “There. Now I can cuddle you and I won’t hurt you.”
 “You wouldn’t hurt me,” Logan mutters as Roman props himself up on his elbow, running his hand through Logan’s hair.
 “It’s never my intention, no.” He leans down to press a kiss to Logan’s forehead.
 “Roman…”
 “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?”
 Logan shakes his head. “Nothing, just…just…”
 “Just what?”
 “…saying your name.”
 Roman’s breath leaves him in a rush. “Oh, sweetheart, let me be soft with you, please, let me look after you…”
 “Yes.”
 Roman lies down, swinging his leg up and over one of Logan’s. He’s warm, so warm, as his weight settles firmly in place. Unlike Remus, who stayed still, just holding Logan there, Roman moves almost constantly. Trailing kisses across his forehead, his cheeks, down to the curve of his chin, hands reaching down to clasps his and draw them up, next to his head, murmuring gently about how much he loves getting to protect Logan like this, how lucky he is to have Logan here, how sweet and soft Logan is for him right now.
 “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers as he comes back to Logan’s cheek, brushing away a stray tear, “it’s okay, Specs, you’ve been so strong today.”
 “But I didn’t do anything,” he argues, “I—I wasn’t helpful at all.”
 Roman leans up a little to look at him. “You made us stop and realize how stupid we were being. We got it sorted out in about five minutes after Remus took you.”
 “But that wasn’t me.”
 Roman smiles, leaning to rub their noses together. “You said it yourself, even when you’re not physically present, you’re still a part of the conversation.”
 Oh.
  Oh.
 “You did so good today, Logan,” Roman promises, kissing his cheek again, “now relax and let me spoil you.”
 “Roman…”
 “Mm,” comes the mumble from somewhere near his ear.
 “Roman…”
 He can almost feel the quirk of Roman’s mouth. “Just saying my name, sweetheart?”
 “Mhm.”
 “Well then,” Roman murmurs, “just lie there and fall asleep to me, okay? I’ve got you.”
 Logan shuts his eyes and lets Roman cuddle him, feeling the warmth reach into his chest and gentle the stickiness away. Although…
 If this is what getting stuck will get him sometimes, maybe it’s not always an annoying inconvenience.
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vajranam · 3 years
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Dealing With Anger
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ON DEALING WITH ANGER
Undoubtedly, both Shantideva and the Dalai Lama are most articulate in their discourse on how to deal with anger and hatred.
Shantideva in fact opens the chapter on patience with the strong statement that an instance of anger can destroy positive imprints created over “a thousand eons.”
He further asserts that there is no evil like hatred and that there is no fortitude like patience. Thus, he recommends that we all seek to develop patience.
In Shantideva’s view, anger acts as the principal obstacle to the development of patience. To use the well-known medical analogy, hatred is the poison and patience is the medicine that removes the poisonous toxins from within the mind.
As the Dalai Lama’s commentary makes clear, Shantideva identifies two key elements in our attempts to overcome anger.
First and foremost, it is important for us to have a profound appreciation of the negativity of anger. Of particular relevance is to reflect upon the destructive effects of generating anger.
Second, Shantideva identifies the need to develop a deep understanding of the causal mechanism which underlies the arisal of anger. This is of special interest to the modern reader, who will unavoidably be approaching Shantideva’s text with many of the popular assumptions associated with modern psychology and its views on human emotions.
In verse 7 of the chapter, Shantideva makes the crucial observation that the “fuel” of anger is what he calls “mental discomfort.” This is an interesting notion. The Tibetan word is yi mi-dewa which can be translated as “dejection,” “unhappiness,” or simply as “dissatisfaction.”
It is best understood as a pervasive, underlying sense of dissatisfaction, which need not be felt at the conscious level. It is that nagging feeling that something is not quite right.
Shantideva seems to be suggesting that it is this underlying sense of dissatisfaction that gives rise to frustration. When this happens, the conditions are set for an immediate outburst of anger when things do not go the way we wish.
Once this causal nexus between dissatisfaction, frustration, and anger is understood, we can then appreciate the virtue of Shantideva’s approach to dealing with anger. We can see that much of his approach is aimed at rooting out this underlying sense of dissatisfaction rather than engaging in a head-to-head confrontation with actual full-blown anger.
This is the reason for Shantideva’s emphasis on reflections which aim to create stability of mind. As to the specific practices, the reader can follow the detailed commentary of the Dalai Lama in the appropriate sections of the book.
An important point to note here is that Shantideva does not appear to make any distinction between anger and hatred in his discussion.
However, the Dalai Lama’s commentary explicitly underlines this critical distinction. He observes that, in principle, it may be possible to accept what could be called a “positive anger.”
Anger as an outrage toward injustice done to others can often be an important catalyst for powerful altruistic deeds.
However, he rejects such possibility with regard to hatred. For the Dalai Lama, hatred can have no virtue. It only eats the person from within and poisons his or her interactions with fellow human beings. In his words, “Hatred is the true enemy; it is the inner enemy.”
Perhaps we can say that the feature that distinguishes anger and hatred is the absence or presence of ill-will. A person can be angry without bearing any ill-will toward his or her object of anger. The Dalai Lama instructs us to ensure that our anger, even when it arises, never culminates in full-blown hatred. This, I think, is an important ethical teaching.
A few words on some of the general principles which lie behind the approaches suggested in this book for dealing with our emotions and developing patience may perhaps help the general reader.
A key principle is a belief in what could be called the plasticity of the mind, that is, an assumption of the mind’s limitless capacity for improvement. This is supported by a complex understanding of the psychology of the mind and its various modalities.
Both Shantideva and the Dalai Lama are operating within a long history of Buddhist psychology and philosophy of mind which emphasizes a detailed analysis of human emotions.
Generally speaking, in this view the mind is perceived in terms of a complex, dynamic system where both cognitive and affective dimensions of the psyche are seen as an integrated whole.
So, when the two masters present means of dealing with emotions such as anger, they are not suggesting that we should suppress them. Both Buddhist and modern psychology agree on the harmfulness of mere suppression.
The Buddhist approach is to get at the root so that the very basis for anger is undercut. In other words, Shantideva and the Dalai Lama are suggesting ways of reorienting our character so that we become less prone to strong reactive emotions such as anger. It is in this light that most of the reflections recommended in this volume should be understood.
The motto is simple: Discipline your mind. Shantideva underlines the critical importance of this inner discipline with a wonderful analogy:
Where would I possibly find enough leather
With which to cover the surface of the earth?
But (wearing) just leather on the soles of my shoes
Is equivalent to covering the earth with it.
Likewise it is not possible for me
To restrain the external course of things;
But should I restrain this mind of mine
What would be the need to restrain all else?
(Guide, V:13–14)
This of course is reminiscent of the memorable verse from the Dhammapada in which the Buddha says:
Intangible and subtle is the mind,
That flies after fancies as it likes;
Wise are those who discipline their minds,
For a mind well-disciplined brings great joy. (Verse 35)
Shantideva calls this basic Buddhist practice “guarding the mind” and he discusses it at great length in chapter 5 of his Guide.
Another general principle I wish to draw the reader’s attention to is the basic pragmatism of Shantideva’s teachings. He does not appear to believe in the possibility of one cure or solution to any problem.
His is a strategy that involves drawing extensively from all our inner resources. Many of his arguments appeal to what we may call human rationality. But he also uses approaches that appeal to our fundamental humanitarian sentiments. Often he plays upon our sense of moral outrage too. So, the bottom line seems to be “whatever works best.”
In the final analysis, many of the approaches presented in this book are insights grounded in common sense. For example, who can argue with the sheer practicality of the following lines, which the Dalai Lama is so fond of quoting:
Why be unhappy about something
If it can be remedied?
And what is the use of being unhappy about something
If it cannot be remedied? (Guide, VI:10)
Perhaps most importantly for the modern reader, it is vital to appreciate that both Shantideva and the Dalai Lama do not believe in “instant enlightenment.”
In their teachings, there is the basic assumption that cultivating inner discipline is a time-consuming process. In fact, the Dalai Lama rightly points out that having expectations of immediate results is a sign of impatience, the very factor the teachings in this volume aim to counteract.
With a sense of irony, he observes that often what the modern reader wants is “the best, the fastest, the easiest, and, if possible, the cheapest way.” So the journey of someone who is on the path of self-betterment is arduous and requires long commitment.
Nevertheless, the rewards of embarking upon such a journey are potentially enormous. Even in immediate terms, the benefit such an endeavor brings to the traveler’s life seems remarkable.
If the Dalai Lama is representative of those who have gained the fruits of this journey, its merits are shown to be beyond question.
Geshe Thupten Jinpa
Girton College
University of Cambridge
Perfecting Patience - His Holiness the Dalai Lama & Geshe Thupten Jinpa - Shambhala Publications, Inc.
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azenta · 3 years
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Hi! Can you explain how to tell if you're so-blind or sp-blind? I have trouble telling if it's just depression & social anxiety that makes me relate to so-blind descriptions.. and when it comes to sp-blindness I have inferior si so I could see it with things like forgetting to eat and having a bad sleep schedule, but I'm not incapable of taking care of myself or reliant on others at all really. I value independence and take care of necessities. any help would be much appreciated!
I must admit mental health issues can blurr the lines to the point where you cannot really be sure until you get to a healthier place. Tho, IVs are all about primary concerns and reaction, so you should even feel their urge more when in a difficult place.
Therefore, you need to look for what you are instinctively seeking, even if you fail at it. Your instincts are 1. What you care about 2. What you do or try to accomplish even if it fails or the result is mediocre. It's not about doing it well, it's about prioritizing certain needs.
Sp blinds mean that whatever your state, your basic resources are not your priority. Again, it's not about succeeding to do it or not, but being preoccupied by the IV. Sp blinds thus are simply not concerned with preserving or maintaining themselves, what they try to find is to engage and to energize themselves one way or another, even if they fail because of their issues. So, like with depression, it would not just mean the person isn't able to do the basic stuff, that's what depression does to a certain degree, it's about caring about preservation despite failing at it that indicates the presence of Sp in the stack, and an absence of concerns to indicate potential sp blindness. It also means that even when their mental health is doing pretty well, Sp blind still won't care that much about preserving those resources.
For Soc blinds it will mean they do not think of engaging or catering to their engagements, they'll seek to preserve their resources (energy, time, money, etc.) and create/find a form of high stimulation, even if they fail. By engagement, I don't mean socializing btw, it refers to one's commitments to their relationships, like simply being present or doing certain implicit stuff to care for them. So, they tend to drop those commitments, but not bother about it. In the case of social anxiety, I'd seek for what bothers you the most about it, in the sense how it impairs you and what bothers you about this impairment. Some folks have social anxiety but it impairs their capacity to Soc, and this is what really bothers them.
So, if you are concerned about preserving yourself despite failing, you are not sp blind, and if you care about engaging or catering to your commitments despite failling, you're not soc blind.
In the end, it is about what you care about and what motivates you despite failing at it. I don't have a miracle way to help you determine your IVs, it is to find out which you seek, or the one you feel you lack. It's not so much about behaviors but about motivations.
If you want something more specific, I recommend to ask, but rn I can't see what else I could add to determine which IVs might be yours. Seek for your motivation, and forget about behaviors. In general, forget about behaviors, look at what motivates you and how it manifests (in a big picture way, which encompasses behaviors but is more than just behaviors).
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kkoumiii · 3 years
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Can you please do a personality reading for TXT Soobin?
Helloooo I'm glad you suggested Soobin (he's my TXT bias so I was also curious haha), let's see what we can get with my cards! 🌸
/!\ Friendly reminder that my readings are not to take at face value, I do not mean any harm to this idol, it’s only for entertainment purpose. /!\
✧ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 ➵ 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
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✾ ˡⁱᵇᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ (ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷ ᵃᵗᵗʳⁱᵇᵘᵗᵉ), ᵛᵒⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᵐᵒᵒⁿ, 7 ᵒᶠ ˢʷᵒʳᵈˢ
⇝ I can say right away that this boy can’t stand conflicts. At the moment, he might feel like he’s constrained to follow certain rules he isn’t really happy about, but he doesn’t want to contradict his superiors. Even if he disagrees, he won’t say anything because he doesn’t like countering authorities. He will follow the rules even though it’s hard for him. He avoids conflicts at all costs, he can’t bear contentious environment, he probably doesn’t know how to handle these situations. He’s afraid people or issues might turn against him, he has probably a hard time assuming his responsibilities in that way. For this reason, he will tend to remain silent. In his opinion, conflicts lead to nothing and whenever he’s facing one, he feels out of control. Furthermore, I think he doesn’t want to test his limits because once he’s mad, the situation can degenerate pretty bad and it can affect him deeply. He doesn’t know how to act, what to say, what to choose… He just feels mentally trapped. If two people he knows have a fight, he probably won’t intervene. He needs a peaceful environment to be at his best, but he’s still aware that life can’t always be made out of butterflies and rainbows. It’s simply an issue he has to deal with for the moment, it doesn’t mean he will act this way forever.
✾ ᵍᵒᵈ (ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷ ᵃᵗᵗʳⁱᵇᵘᵗᵉ), ˡᵉᵒ, 4 ᵒᶠ ᶜᵘᵖˢ
⇝ I think Soobin has actually a bigger ego than we might think haha. He’s probably more silent about it or maybe he wants to hide it, but he definitely has a lot of pride. He has a hard time recognizing his mistakes and handling criticisms. I feel like he wants and tries to keep an image as clean-cut and irreproachable as possible, thus he does his best to avoid rumors and everything that can affect his image. He’s more of the confident type, he’s aware of his capacities but he won’t openly brag about them. I think he won’t let people walk all over him in that way. However, if he’s hurt about something, he will keep it to himself and bottle up till he explodes. He doesn’t confront people directly, he will act like nothing can hurt him and everything is fine. He sort of puts an armor on. Sometimes, he has a hard time handling his emotions, he might be the type to hold grudges for a long time. He might get easily hurt by people’s comments because of his pride. Even though he’s confident, he still needs lots of praises and attention. There’s always a part of himself doubting, that’s why he kind of needs validation. He’s still a child at heart. A reason why he might dislike conflicts is because they bring him a feeling of instability and it threatens his emotions, it blocks him and he can’t think properly. He needs security and stability and being surrounded by a negative energy triggers him (I’m not saying that all conflicts are negative but it’s more of his own fears).
✾ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵒʳ (ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵗᵗʳⁱᵇᵘᵗᵉ), ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵉ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵍⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ
⇝ On the flip side, he’s the type to find compromise and be the mediator right before a conflict starts. He prefers pacifying things and he’s a good leader in this way because he’s able to appease tensions within the group and find a middle ground, he’s the peacemaker. It can sound contradictory with what I said before but I think he’s the one negotiating with their superiors whenever something is going on because he knows how to use words to get what he wants. I won’t say he’s manipulative but he definitely knows how to use his charm and entice people. He still won’t choose his side, but he’s used to calming the atmosphere down. He would probably be a good commercial negotiator. There’s a sweet side to him that captivates people and he knows what to say to get everybody to agree with him or at least helps him get what he wants. He grasps people easily and it enables him to find how to satisfy everyone. He can see things in all perspectives when needed, he’s sly and observant and in this sense, he’s able to meet halfway before things get heated. He definitely knows how to fall on his feet.
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How interesting it was! I remember that he has a Libra Mars, it makes sense! Hope you're satisfied anon 😄
Bye 💕
- kkօմตííí ❁
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Aria T’Loak is Resistant to Indoctrination
I’ve been thinking about Aria T’Loak and the universe of Mass Effect a lot recently and one thing that always puzzled me was this: why have Cerberus throw Aria out of Omega? Wouldn’t it make more sense for the Reapers to just indoctrinate Aria and have her control Omega for them, thereby making it incredibly easy for Cerberus to get in and centralize without having to fight both her and the gangs/citizens of Omega? The games and lore make it very clear that whatever she says basically goes on the station, and she’s the strongest being on Omega, pound for pound. Not only that, she would do anything to take it back even if the station somehow DID get taken away from her.
So knowing all this, what if the Reapers had already tried to indoctrinate Aria to do their bidding in order to aid them in their destruction of the Milky Way species this cycle?  And what if Aria was incredibly resistant to indoctrination?
Per the Omega DLC, Aria states that “Cerberus controlling the Terminus Systems seriously bolsters their mobility. Since taking Omega, they’ve spread through the galaxy.” For the Reapers and their indoctrinated forces, taking over Omega, which is the unofficial capitol of that region, is huge for their war against the galaxy.  It allows them to have access to multiple relays, making it easy to travel and therefore they’re able to hinder resistance movements all over. Concurrently, this would result in it being easier for Reapers to take over. The coup also enabled for the Cerberus scientists to have an easy population to experiment Reaper tech on. Simply put, taking over Omega was huge in the war and the Cerberus troops were the Reapers’ way of securing that region. For a time.
But in the comic, Mass Effect: Invasion, and the Omega DLC, it’s very clear that it took a huge and costly monetary and militaristic effort in order to take over and maintain their regime there. And even once Cerberus had ‘ousted’ Aria, they couldn’t control the gangs or the people because, simply put, they aren’t Aria T’Loak. In fact, it’s very clearly stated by Anto in Invasion that the gangs only follow Aria, which makes them an uncontrollable and chaotic force during the Cerberus occupation. This, combined with their already thinned and stressed forces, had to have made Cerberus’ overall goals and time there much less effective than what it could have been.
Considering all this, not having Aria there actually makes it more difficult for the Reapers. Not only do they have to direct some of their indoctrinated human forces (in the form of Cerberus) to a section of the galaxy that isn’t really a part of the main war (thus stretching their forces thin as we see later on in Mass Effect 3), they also have to deal with rebelling aliens ON Omega. The Talons, Blue Suns, Blood Pack, Eclipse, and citizens all fight back against the Cerberus occupation, making the troops even more thinned out and inefficient.  Additionally it would have been much easier to have a leader, Aria, that the Omegan people and gangs could have ‘willingly’ united under to just simply aid Cerberus without a prolonged conflict.  But for some reason, they didn’t use Aria even though her portion of the galaxy was nearest to where the Reapers were. Maybe it’s not because they didn’t want to (it strategically would have made sense and the Reapers are clearly logically orientated) but rather because they couldn’t. At least, not in a timely manner.
However, I’m not suggesting that Aria is completely immune to indoctrination. No one is. Not the Illusive Man. Not the Leviathans. Not the Protheans. Not even Commander Shepard (if you believe that he/she was possibly indoctrinated towards the end of the game). But it’s possible some beings are much more RESISTANT to indoctrination based on a whole sort of factors. Strong will, intelligence, and mental fortitude would certainly make one more difficult to indoctrinate--or they would at least be aware of the fact that they were being indoctrinated.
Matriarch Benezia is a perfect example of this. She was ultimately indoctrinated by the Reapers (it probably was facilitated by the fact that she was helping Saren to begin with anyways) but had strong enough mental fortitude to be aware of it and even was able to sequester a part of her mind away from them.  Years of training as a Matriarch, and her natural mental abilities as an asari, made it difficult for even the ancient machines to truly control an asari Matriarch and Benezia was constantly fighting against the takeover of her mind.  So from even the first game, we can see that there are some beings, probably mostly asari matriarchs due to the reasons stated above, that are resistant to indoctrination.
Now let’s consider Aria T’Loak. We already know that Aria is an insanely powerful biotic, likely the most powerful in the game. She’s so powerful that her in-game abilities had to be tinkered with because she was clearing rooms on her own in the development of the Omega DLC.  We also know that she’s incredibly strong-willed, to say the least, and is probably a matriarch if we do the math (although I don’t think she’s 1000 years old but that’s another story). Her ability to have strong mental capacities is already assumed as she’s probably had to forcibly meld with others to get information and protect her mind at the same time. Finally, she wasn’t in a position where she was already susceptible and could easily be influenced towards helping the Reapers. Aria is shown to be paranoid, aggressive, intelligent, calculating, and cognizant of her surroundings. There would be no reason in her own daily routines to help the Reapers directly by opening her station to the Collectors or any other forces. Thus, considering all this and her own physiology, I would guess she’d be incredibly resistant to indoctrination and would probably catch on, at least to some extent, as to what was going on if they tried. I don’t think the Reapers could have indoctrinated her in an effective and timely manner for their purposes during this harvesting cycle.
Ultimately, I think this all comes down to time. Due to the Prothean’s heroic work, this cycle’s species were very close to beating (or at least hindering) the Reapers. Because of this, their harvesting of this cycle had to be expedited before we could figure out how to beat them once and for all; or at least make it easier for the next cycles to.  And even though they would have eventually indoctrinated Aria, it wouldn’t have been quick enough to make our defeat as total and devastating as they wished.
And thus, Aria T’Loak had to go. Cerberus was simply the method that the Reapers used to depose her, temporarily, as Omega’s ruler.
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spicysoftsweet · 3 years
Text
Chapter 13
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Masterlist 
cw: nsfw, timeskip
 “Mmm.”
A soft moan of pleasure left Kumi’s lips as she continued to roll her hips slowly, a smile on her face as she leaned forward, letting her palms glide up her partner’s chest. His eyes seemed to glaze over with lust still as he looked upon her breasts, and she giggled.
It truly was nice to be with someone who definitely loved you more than you loved them, she thought fleetingly, then attempted to banish the idea from her own mind.
Perhaps it was an unkind thought. She liked the guy she was currently riding enough; Seiichi was nice to look at with heavy-lidded eyes, shaggy dirty blonde hair and an easy going smile, and he had been attentive and caring to her through these last couple of years as they futzed through medical school together.
At graduation just a couple weeks ago, he’d asked her how she felt about the two of them becoming official and she’d avoided the question, and he’d known better not to bring it up again. Kumi considered that he’d perhaps ask again now, now that she was hovering above him and his hands pressed firmly around her waist and she could feel her stomach coil tighter and tighter the longer they moved together.
He didn’t just like her more, he liked her too much for her comfort, she’d realized.
“Kumi, I-” he began, cheeks flushed, but then she’d cut him off abruptly.
“I’m moving back to Tokyo-” she blurted out, right before she felt herself snap and let out a strangled cry as she climaxed and promptly collapsed onto him. She could barely see his look of distress as he took in this sudden news, his cock softening inside her almost immediately, but she could feel the quickening pace of his heart. 
It was an asshole move.
“You’re what?” He asked.
Kumi shifted her legs as he slipped out of her, then rolled over to the side so that she was staring at the ceiling and not at him.
“I’m leaving this weekend,” she repeated, cheeks still warm as she recovered from her orgasm. The pensive, slightly amused look on her face was unchanging, as though she had simply told him about a funny dream she’d had, and Seiichi, who had thought he was making some progress all these years realized all at once that he’d never even cracked the surface of her frozen heart. The idea of him having wasted his time so thoroughly aggravated him suddenly.
“Were you ever going to fucking say anything?” He hissed. “Or did it just hit you spur of the moment to say something like this?”
She turned towards him, noting his now red-faced and angry expression, and placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it softly. There was something akin to pity in her look, but not love.
“I didn’t think it was important,” she replied simply.
She could have left it at that, and Seiichi may have calmed down and even considered bargaining with her - trips back and forth maybe, a vacation here or there, she just had to tell him that she still wanted him, in some capacity, and it would still be alright.
“You are important to me,” he said and attempted to mirror her action, but frowning, Kumi moved backwards and quickly made her way off the bed, redressing herself.
He watched her with anticipation, anxiety choking the words in his throat as she got ready to leave.
After an unnecessarily silent period of time, she turned to him and smiled widely, something unnatural and painful and flat all at once.
“I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.”
---
“Why did you decide to become a doctor?”
Kumi hated this question every single time it was asked. The truest answer was when my middle school boyfriend died in a gang fight in front of me, mostly due to self-inflicted injury that could have been preventable if only I had the skills, but it wasn’t exactly the answer that earned her points with anyone. If anything, it only invited more unnecessary questions.
Instead, she offered something generic like, “I’ve always had a passion to take care of others and found that I was interested in the science of the human body and thus pursued my passion in this way.” It was sufficiently true, she figured, even if it wasn’t as exciting a reason.
The interviewer seemed to be impressed enough with the lackluster response, as she expected. Her grades were excellent, after all, so this interview was somewhat of a formality. The only thing that worried her was whether or not she was ready to move back to Tokyo for residency, and decided after very brief contemplation that she was.
It had been so many years since that event had happened, after all. She couldn’t possibly still be hung up on the past.
People died all the time; years of medical school had taught her this. She could prevent some death but not all.
When she’d received the residency position, she was excited as the program was top rated in the country for emergency medicine training, but then recalled that she likely had no one left in Tokyo. Her parents had long since moved to the United States permanently along with her grandmother who had taken her in charge up until she’d started college, and her brother, many years older, lived on the other end of the country. They weren’t close, even if she had wanted to be.
She had no one left. She’d even briefly wondered if she could bring Seiichi with her, and realized it would be too cruel to use him in this way. Seiichi would remain in their city, pursuing specialization in pediatrics, so his goals and her goals wouldn’t be compatible anyway.
Why Tokyo?
Her mother hated even the idea of moving back there, and she’d had to reassure her repeatedly that more than ten years had passed, so there was no way she’d return to that dark place she’d been in the latter fourteenth and entire fifteenth year of her life.
“Are you sure?” Her mother pressed.
“Yes, mom,” she reassured her. “I won’t even be living on the same side of the city.”
And I’m past it, she thought.
With that, she moved to a small apartment in Tokyo alone on a Saturday morning and started her first day of work as a newly minted doctor that very Monday.
The first day was busy and the emergency department was as busy and as hectic as she should have expected being in a major city, but she survived after putting in her hours, clocking out sometime between 13 to 15 hours after the beginning of her shift, exhausted and with no one to go home to. As she sat on the train, trying not to let her tired eyes glaze over, she downloaded a dating app, swiped left and right on a couple of strange faces then sighed loudly.
It was a dumb idea to meet men if she was going to have no one to call in case of an emergency.
Kumi made it to her new home, hopping into the shower, and changing into soft shorts and a pajama shirt immediately before preparing some instant noodles for dinner. She made a mental note to buy some real groceries sometime this weekend. She then quickly texted a message to her parents to tell them her first day had gone well.
She would be fine.
As she ate her meal in silence, her mind flitted to Kaksi for a moment. She wondered how she was doing. Should she contact her? They hadn’t spoken in over a decade. Did she miss her? Was she even still in this city?
She finished her meal and shook off the thought of digging up past relationships. She wouldn’t want to burrow too deeply and be hurt by what she found.
---
Kaksi rested the ends of her chopsticks on the dark blue and white hashioki in front of her. Then her brown eyes wandered outside, enjoying Tokyo’s skyline through the large glass windows of the private room she shared with her friend. Blue eyes studied her features quietly, while slender fingers brought the white chopsticks to rosy lips.
“Did you not like the food?”
“Oh, I did,” Kaksi replied in a soft voice. “I’m just not very hungry.”
Senju didn’t say anything for a moment. By now she had memorised all of Kaksi’s habits, which made it usually easy for her to pick up on her emotions and thoughts.
“Are you nervous?” she asked before taking a sip of her drink.
Kaksi smiled.
“I guess I am.”
Was this moment shared together their goodbye? As much as Senju preferred not to dwell on the future, she couldn’t ignore the inevitable change that Kazutora’s return would bring into her life. She had made a mistake, growing too comfortable treating Kaksi like she was hers when she was someone else’s all along.
Senju had never met Manjiro Sano despite the similar lifestyle they shared but back when Kaksi would still talk about him, she compared them a lot. Brahman’s leader used to believe she was nothing like him, the idea of ever leaving Kaksi behind unthinkable to her but now she wondered if the reason behind their fall out wasn’t just Mikey trying to spare his own feelings, something Senju failed to do by falling for her best friend.
She had been foolish to think Kaksi would fail to keep her promise. While they had shared more kisses that they could both count and uncovered the secrets to each other’s body in between almost forbidden confessions, Senju still wasn’t the one Kaksi wished to have by her side, or maybe she did. It had felt like she did so many times and it still felt that way as they walked out of the expensive restaurant too close to each other.
Kaksi’s hands were always so cold but Senju liked to warm them up. Tonight however the brunette wouldn’t let her like she had been doing for the past months. Senju was being selfish again, she knew. Kaksi couldn’t say no, not to her, not when she would give her those pleading blue eyes or slide her hand around her waist.
“Sen,” she said, irritated and distancing herself from her best friend.
But this time she had to say no.
“I don’t think I can do it, Kaksi.”
Kazutora would be out of jail in a few days and Kaksi had already planned out a future for them, one that she had desired ever since they had promised to never leave each other’s side back when they were children. It was unfair that she couldn’t preserve what she had built for the past years but if it wasn’t her then who would watch out for Kazutora? There was an obligation Kaksi felt to him, one that she felt like she could never get rid of but this was also what she wanted.
“I don’t think he would be happy in Tokyo,” she told her.
Senju rolled her eyes at her answer. Why was it that Kaksi always had to make her life revolve around him?
“Aren’t you happy in Tokyo?” she asked, voice louder as her irritation grew.
“I need a change of air.”
“Do you need a change of air or do you think Kazutora needs one?” Senju replied. “Because those are two very different things.”
“I think we do.”
Senju stayed quiet for a moment. She wondered if Kaksi could see that what she felt was beyond jealousy. If Kaksi didn’t want to stay by her side that was fine by her, as painful as it was but she wished her best friend would choose herself instead of someone else sometimes.
“You know, you can’t make decisions for others, Kaksi,” Senju reminded her. “You can only make decisions for yourself.”
Kaksi chuckled but it was irritation that she felt.
“This is not how I want things to end between us before I leave for Osaka,” Kaksi told her.
Then you could just stay, at least.
“I don’t think there is any other way for it to end,” Senju admitted, her blue eyes not hiding a sadness she had been containing for too long.
Kaksi fell silent, not sure about what she could say if this was really how they were meant to say goodbye to each other. Senju took a deep breath.
“I hope Kazutora and you enjoy Osaka,” she said with a genuine smile, contrasting with the disappointment and sadness she felt moments before.
But she meant those words. Maybe she was the one who didn’t get it, maybe this was what Kazutora desired and maybe this was something only Kaksi could offer and wanted to offer. There was nothing rational about feelings after all but even after experiencing all of those emotions, Senju couldn’t help thinking only a bit of madness could explain Kaksi’s behaviour sometimes.
If she did get it though. Then there was only one thing she needed Kaksi to remember even though she was choosing Kazutora right now and had planned to always do so.
“But if you don’t then come back to me in Tokyo.”
Kaksi’s eyes filled with tears at the sight of Senju’s smile. She couldn’t smile back but she nodded as she watched her walk away, in a direction she wouldn’t follow this time.
---
“You said you grew up in the city, right?” The girl situated beside Kumi asked, turning slightly in the booth of the bar. The man sitting directly across from her, who from the beginning of the gaokon had seemed to have set his sights on her, perked his ears up.
“I thought you were foreign!” he asked, and she flashed her most charming smile in response despite mild irritation, accepting a drink from her coworker as she spoke.
“Nope, I’ve been here since early childhood. Briefly moved just outside Kyoto in my teen years, but I guess technically Tokyo is my home,” she explained.
The young man before her nodded, leaning just close enough that she began to grow uncomfortable. She couldn’t tell if the man’s interest was related to an expectation that she’d put out more readily than the other women on this date, and just because of that, she was determined not to spend the night with him. Instead, she focused her attention on the girl behind her who was also desperately trying to avoid eye contact with another guy who had latched onto her.
This group blind date was a bust.
Kumi didn’t feel too bad about it, however. She would appreciate anything that allowed her not to think about work. An adolescent boy had come in earlier in the day with a stab wound, and despite the fact that this was not the first time she’d seen injured children or the sequela of gang violence, perhaps the fact that she was back in this city made it such that the event had unearthed some trauma. She found that her hands shook as she stabilized the teen and for a moment, she thought she had even seen a flash of Baji in that young boy and temporarily forgot how to breathe.
That couldn’t happen again.
She should be over it. She had to be.
“Would you like to meet again?” The man whose name she’d long since forgotten - Tadashi? Satoshi? - asked her at the close of the evening, when she’d made it sufficiently clear that she was just interested in going home.
She should have said no, but instead she politely exchanged phone numbers with him, fully intending to block him in three to five days.
But who knew when she’d be lonely again?
---
A week later, Kumi could get over the haunting visage of the young boy who looked everything and nothing like Baji, but she couldn’t get over the sudden talk of gang activity on the news she let play in the background while she reviewed medical publications.
A horrific truck accident, involving a young woman about her age, had taken the news by storm. Listening closer, she heard a name that sounded familiar but not recognizable.
Hinata Tachibana.
It felt like a name she should remember, but she figured they might have interacted before she had relocated for high school, and most of the things and people from before then were essentially blocked out of her memory.
But not the name Toman.
Kumi perked up, sipping onto her tea and folding her legs beneath her as she sat on the couch, finally setting her paper aside, now that the television had caught her interest. There were no real suspects, but the death was thought to be related to this group, as were a series of other random execution-like killings. Kumi took a look at the still image of the young woman’s face, eyes wide, noting that she definitely looked familiar to her, like she’d seen her at least once or twice a long time ago. She couldn’t imagine her having done anything wrong or any act that would anger someone enough to order her death.
Toman doesn’t kill. Toman doesn’t do real crime, she thought.
But times had changed, and maybe they did do real crime now. She wondered briefly if Mitsuya was still part of Toman. What had become of Mikey and Draken, and the rest?
Did Kaksi know what Toman had become over the years?
Kumi unconsciously reached for her phone beside her to call, then caught herself. She hesitated for a moment, letting the sudden wash of anxiety run through her, then shut off the television instead and returned to her reading.
Let sleeping dogs lie, she thought, and she spent the rest of her night, minding her own business, minding her future.
---
She wouldn’t have broken if not for her dream that night.
“Bambi, you don’t ever stop crying, do you?”
Kumi’s eyes jolted open at the sound of that voice, the mischievous laugh she remembered from her childhood, even if it was richer, an evolved version. It couldn’t be, could it?
But she was no longer in her room. Instead, she was somewhere warm and blindingly bright, where her eyes could barely adjust, and her body felt… lighter?
She rose to a sitting position, shielding her watering eyes from the light, only to be startled by a warm hand taking hers, interlacing their fingers.
“Kumi-chan, look.”
Her eyes opened again, and this time, rather than light unfocusing her, there was a man before her, with a face that was foreign yet oh-so-familiar, crouched down on one knee and still holding her hand gently.
Fangs grinned back at her, and she gasped.
“K-Kei..?”
Her voice came out no more than a squeak and suddenly in her heart she was fourteen again, and her lip started to quiver as she repeated his name again.
What did this mean? To be looking at him again, a him that was no longer dead just days before he turned fifteen, whose dark, wavy locks were even longer and whose face had aged just as much as hers, but with the same fox-like brown eyes that she’d fallen in love with a decade ago as part of a sharper angled, handsome face?
She repeated his name yet again, heart thumping and tears welling up in her eyes, and he cupped her face in her hands, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears.
He frowned.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he said, a pensive look on his face. He sighed, and Kumi felt his lips press onto her forehead. Warm, soft lips that felt every bit as real as she did, and it only made her hurt more.
She was hallucinating. All of this was impossible, whatever this was.
So why did it feel so real?
“I miss you so much,” she choked out.
A decade had passed, and here she was. Conjuring up an image of Baji as he could have been if he had lived, something that may not be real. She wasn’t even sure he’d look like this - might he have cut his hair, or gotten his teeth fixed? How did she know what his voice would settle to be like in adulthood, and if this soothing baritone in her ears was anything close? How did she know he would grow to this height he now stood at, towering over her once he’d pulled her to her feet and pressed her head against his chest? How did she know what his arms would feel like wrapped around her? Would she actually have felt this safe and warm?
Would he have still cared for her, had he lived?
“I miss you too.”
She sobbed harder.
“How can you miss me when you’re dead?”
He paused, and let a hand stroke through her hair.
“Pretend.”
Almost shocked, she pulled back and looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He smiled sadly at her and shrugged.
“Pretend I’m still here with you. I’ll stay with you till morning comes,” he promised. "I can promise you at least this much.”
There’s a point where it’s easier to live in the delusion, and it was at this point, where Baji leaned in to kiss her, then embrace her in a way they never could in life. They drank deeply of each other throughout the night, connecting with each other physically and emotionally, and the young woman hoped that the cursed morning would never come, where she’d have to give up on this dream or vision or delusion or whatever the fuck it was, and return to reality.
But alas the dead cannot commune with the living forever.
Kumi woke up in a cold bed where Baji was no longer inside her or beside her or with her, and there was nothing that remained but messy bed sheets, dampness between her legs and unrelenting, fresh pain in her heart.
She brought her knees to her chest, and felt new anguish for the first time in years. Birds chirped outside her window to welcome the dawn and light seeped through her window, and on this cool Saturday morning, she had regressed to the same child curled up in blankets, encountering heartbreak for the first time.
Why?
Why couldn’t she get past this?
Her father had said it first. It’s just a boy.
And here she was, a grown woman, who no longer could love, hanging on desperately to a ghost.
Kumi’s phone alarm went off suddenly - she’d forgotten to turn it off - and she reached for her phone, her whole body shaking like a leaf. She was pathetic, despite the fact that she so desperately wanted to be strong.
And thus, the moment she quieted the alarm, she dialed the only person who could understand the pain she felt. Even if it was selfish. Even if it had been a decade.
She didn’t expect her to pick up, but she did.
“Kumi?”
The familiar sound of Kaksi’s voice made her want to weep in a different way. Relief rushing over a wave.
She sucked air into her lungs and smiled, warm, thankful tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Kaksi, I missed you so much.”
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feysandfeels · 3 years
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Sometimes I think of the trigger Lucien must have gotten when he saw Feyre die and Tamlin holding her crying. He probably made a parallel about what happened to him and Jesminda. I believe that's why he didn't help Feyre so hard in relation to Tamlin in the second book, because Tamlin got the opportunity he didn't get.
Of course there's every part of Tamlin being his High Lord and he owes him allegiance, but I believe his trauma has been addressed.
Of course, that's not an excuse, but I can't stop thinking about it.
Hiya Sugar, I know you asked me this like three weeks ago, sorry I'm just getting around to it.
So this mainly has two sides to understand first is what was happening to Lucien. Here we need to take into account his history of abuse at the hands of his family and Tamlin. The second is clearly how Feyre understood the situation from her own place of enunciation. Still I think this is one of those discussions in the fandom where you should tread lightly because I don't think either side is entirely wrong to feel what they felt and every argument has a well crafted response that is enlightening.
Lucien.
I think by this point denying that Lucien is a victim of abusive relationships that showcased their abuse not only physically but mentally and emotionally is just irresponsable and willful blindness. Lucien's family dynamic speaks of a toxic environment if I ever saw one. The Jesminda's death at the hands of his brothers and father is something that has left a scar as visible as the one across his eye. This is an experience that molds how he interacts with other people as friends, as romantic partners, and also how he understands romantic relationships that he is not involved in (Feyre and T*mlin).
From this angle, yes, UtM was extremely triggering for him because yet again he was placed in a situation where the loved one is killed and the other person "can't do much" about it (the quotation thingies are because T*mlin was being useless af here and he should have done more than just beg, Lucien's situation he was magically and physically restrained). He understands T*mlin's nightmares better than almost anyone, and as he told Feyre, T*mlin will never not hear the sound of her neck breaking. I do believe that if T*mlin had talked about this with Lucien, he might have dealt with the whole thing better.
We can't also ignore that Lucien carries a lot of guilt regarding Jesminda. He couldn't save her and seeing his friend die in a similar manner must have brought up his own traumas so its understandable that his full on attention might not have been spent towards understanding what Feyre was going through. We all are dealing with things and it's fair when you don't have the mental space to see what is happening to those around you, even when you are as observant as Lucien is. If your mind is not seeing, it doesn't matter if your golden eye sees it all. This guilt of not being there for the ones he loves (in any capacity) is also shown in WAR when he realizes better what happened to Feyre and he says something about being the villain in her story. As much of an Elucien fan that I am I do think that part of his reasoning for going to fetch the army was to make amends with Feyre. He felt guilty for not being there for her friend. (Yes he had a lot more to address on his plate, there's no doubt of that). In a way I do think he recognized that he could have done more.
On top of this we add that Lucien's relationship with T*mlin is based on a partly on the loyalty earned from saving him from his brothers. I think that it is not for nothing that in ACOSF Eris says that he's the one that sent word to T*mlin about what was happening to Lucien, which implies the existence of a friendship that predates the murder of Jesminda. This means that along with that loyalty there must be some old fashion good hearted feelings that nourish what we see as the friendship these two have. What I mean is that probably Lucien's vision of T*mlin is the friend he used to be way back when and the loyalty for offering a "home".
We don't know when exactly T*mlin started being abusive towards Lucien, but at least we can all agree that during ACOMAF he was. It wouldn't also be a stretch to think that in the pre-acotar days there might have been incidents of physical abuse, but so far we don't know for sure. There is a missing piece of information that we don't have yet because Lucien was more feisty during UtM when his life was at risk, than he was during MAF... this tells us a lot of how T*mlin was handling things with him.
There's also something to be said with how Lucien understood abuse. It's a heavy possibility that he perceived abuse like he saw it in the AC. He had a naturalized version of what abuse is, that for him w abuse looked like and felt like what he lived in the AC, so what he experienced with T*mlin pre-acotar did not seem to him as abuse (even when it was). And after Amarantha he began to understand the multiple faces of abuse and thus started to being afraid of T*mlin. Lucien could have also been dealing with the realization that a centuries old relationship had be tainted with abusive behaviors.
I do think that Lucien thought that he tried as hard as he could with the tools he had. But that does not mean that he shouldn't have done more. The problem is that Lucien didn't know he could. Like if he had fought with Tamlin for Feyre's sake where would he go then? Feyre had the option to go to the Night Court, Lucien did not. I like to believe that if he had known the truth about the NC before and had him and Feyre talked about it they would have said fuck you Tamlin, bye, black is the new spring. But he did not know. So he stayed on the comfortable zone of pushing but not jeopardizing his "home". You can hardly blame him for how he played the game when he did not know he was playing with one hand tied to his back.
I will not excuse though when he tried to grab her against her will during the woods. I understand that he was scared and desperate, but I still think that it was not right.
Feyre.
When I stand from a Feyre point of view there are two things that speak to me above all others. First she died for Tamlin and she bargained her life for his court -Lucien included- so I understand the she expected him to push and fight hard for her too. I know there's a quote about her recognizing that T*mlin had fought for her but that she had fought harder for him, and I think that can also suit her relationship with Lucien to an extend. I'm not saying that Lucien is like T*mlin, because no, not at all, not even in the least; but I do think she would have liked for her friend to fight for her well being like she fought for his during UtM.
Second it is hard to be see your friends still be friends with your abuser. Yes Feyre doesn't know all the variables that affect their relationship, the toxic loyalty that T*mlin saving Lucien created, the genuine friendship that was there before her and before Jesminda... but I understand the pain to see your friend not draw the lines for your sake.
This offers a beautiful arc for Lucien in the sense that only recently there has been a movement of "tell me if I'm friends with your abuser", and this awakening is a reality that a lot of people are facing. Is hard to untangle yourself from a person you have known for x amount of time, because you are trying to see the abusive person in the face you related to kindness or something not abusive. Again, we don't know how their relationship was pre-Feyre, perhaps Tamlin had been nothing but a sugary cupcake with Lucien and it's hard to associate that version of his friend to the version he is post Amarantha, the version that will physically abuse them; perhaps T*mlin had always been an ass but "the good outweighed those few instances of abusive behavior". What I'm trying to say is that sometimes it is hard to make a clean cut when the abuser turns out to be the person who saved you (from an even worse abuser but like you get what I mean).
I will not do him the disservice to say that he might not have connected the dots and thought that T*mlin's behavior was abusive towards Feyre. Even if he was just understanding how abuse can look like and even if he was reliving Jesminda's death I do think he could see that T*mlin's behavior was abusive towards Feyre (here I am making the distinction between reliving the trauma of having his love murdered and him recognizing abuse). Lucien is clever and intelligent. I think he did see what was happening, but that implied also a massive shift of reality for him that he was not prepared to see and did not have the tools to deal with, he was also struggling there.
Final thoughts.
I think Feyre is not wrong to feel a tad of distaste against Lucien through ACOMAF. Speaking from a personal experience it is quite sad and tough to see people who you conceived as friends not stand up to you when you are suffering at the hand of your S.O who happens to be their friend. It sucks a lot because you truly feel alone and you feel that at the end of the day they did not take care of you at the expense of taking care or helping or remaining on the good graces of your abuser.
But I think that simply condemning Lucien's actions during MAF without understanding the complicated history of abuse he has, is irresponsable. You are of course allowed to say that he is not fave and that it left a bad taste in your mouth, that's fair, but to condemn him the way I've seen this fandom do without an ounce of empathy or critical reading is just baffling (which to be quite frankly is also something I saw everybody after ACOSF with Rhysand, they condemned his actions without truly taking five second to understand the historical context of them).
Characters are allowed to make mistakes and are allowed to fall short in any given situation, because we as living creatures sometimes fall short in life. What's important to me is that Lucien is learning and when Feyre returned to the SC in WAR we could all see that he changed his approached towards the situation and was there for her. And also you will pry this off my hands but the fact that he is invited to their Solstice celebrations speaks of the state of their relationship right now, they are understanding of what the other is going through and I do think they are making amends and creating a friendship that acknowledges the mistakes they have both made towards the other one.
Yeah this was a long ramble.
Again, apologies it took me so long to answer
Long live Lucien and Feyre. I can't wait for them to grow closer.
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