#because it’s important and it underlines how we should be thinking moving forward

[roseseafoam]

My final thoughts about the reporter:

I think it’s crazy to just pass judgment on that situation without looking at the context. I can understand why, but going so far as to read into what someone’s saying and suggesting that they believe their struggle (which, mind you, is also a genocide) is more important due to some inherent “Arab antiblackness”… Without any attempt to directly reach out for clarification. As they’re pointing out aid that should have gone to your country…

I’m going to trust the Sudanese woman who repeated the reporter’s words verbatim and explained exactly what he said. To me that’s a much better contextualization than “sksksk me and the girlies think what he said was super racist, he thinks his struggle is more important than ours, if you know you know!”

Especially given that he stands to materially gain… what, exactly, from the alleged antiblack sentiment? What does he stand to gain from demeaning the tragedy of another group of people in favor of his own? The answer is not hardly clear enough for me to levy that judgment against him, I’m sorry. Especially without at least trying to have a conversation about it first.

A lot of us are going to have to work harder to contextualize both what we see and what people are saying about what we see. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s necessary. We need to be able to think for ourselves. And we don’t have to agree on everything, nor will we. But being able to have these conversations (both among ourselves as to whether something really is antiblackness and with the people who we feel have hurt us) is necessary. If we can’t ask one another, “Do we really think this is the case? Is this indeed what’s going on?” then we’re just setting ourselves up for critical judgment errors in the future.

[foomoosworld]

THE RAVEN AND THE FIREFLY - CHAPTER 4 - DON'T YOU MOVE FROM HERE

Joel Miller X Fem reader

Minors DNI

Summary: Joel is talked into moving a girl that may be insane across the country to find a Firefly medical center where they think they can harness her immunity to the infected to create a cure. At the same time, her father, Poe, has found access to a drug that can stop the infection and revert it. However, Poe and his daughter Amy seem to suffer from delusions that they come from outer space. Are they really the only hope that the world has for a cure? Or are they part of a cult that believes in nonsense and prays on the mentally ill? Either way, Joel has been paid enough to escourt her safely to the meeting point. As long as nothing goes sideways he's going to get a big pay out.

A/N I said I wouldn't name chapters because I just didn't understand how FooMoo picked their chapter names but as I settle into this story and understand how the characters work, I am beginning to understand what is a more important statement and what should be underlined. So I named this chapter.

As always, Feel better, FooMoo. We miss you!

CHAPTER 4 - DON’T YOU MOVE FROM HERE

A military vehicle rumbled by, topped with young men in black uniforms casually sprawled out on the top of the vehicle, yet, stone faced and aiming guns like vipers ready to strike.

They were most likely high off pills like most young military were ushered to do these days. They tried to hide their shaking palms as they scan their flashlights and guns through the gutters for anyone out past curfew as they go into withdrawal.  

They don’t want to be there either - shooting someone for being out past 9 pm. But they’ve been told it’s their duty and in a world devoid of morals and empathy, sometimes a uniform and a gun can make you feel like you have some control. But there’s the nagging feeling underneath, the primal knowledge, that they know this isn’t the way. So they take the pills and fund people like Joel who have to scurry past curfew through the streets to get them their supply.

Joel grabbed the back of your shirt and shoved you down into the dirty gutter water as you both held your breath and laid as flat as possible just as the spotlight of a guard grazed over your back but, thankfully, didn’t take notice. 

“Thank god military brats are all drugged up now,”  Joel says looking slowly up from the grimy water, “Their senses are dulled.”

You turn and raise an eyebrow at him.

“You need that leg up, don’t you old man?”  You tease.

Joel heaves himself to his feet with a grunt and offers you his hand.  You deny the helpful motion and stand up on your own, “See how I did that without grunting?”  You smirk.

Joel dead stares you, “You wanna find your father on your own?  Cause I’d love to just stay home with my feet up…”

“Nope.”  You suddenly realize Joel isn’t messing around and that he could easily leave you to die in these unfamiliar circumstances.

“Let’s get one thing straight,”  Joel moves closer to you and stares into your eyes with a stiff jaw, “When I say ‘duck’ you duck.  When I say ‘run’ you run. When I say be silent you don’t say a goddamn word.”  He points at you firmly.  You stare at him with fear seeping into your expression.

“Got it.”

“Repeat it.”  He firmly demands.

“You’re the boss.”  You nod.

He continues to inspect the sincerity in your expression then finally lets up, “Good girl.”  He gruffs, “Now move.” he quietly hisses as he gently pushes you forward in the gutter.

Eventually, the two of you find the door to the wall of the QZ and he knocks a slow, purposeful, pattern against it.  The door swings open and the same guard that let you into the QZ stares at you through a battered and swollen face. 

“Jeeezus!”  You exclaim looking at him.  He doesn’t acknowledge you and merely ushers you and Joel through quickly with a hand motion.

“Never come back here.”  The guard hisses then outstretches his hand to Joel in anticipation. Joel palms a dirty ziplock bag of pills into his hand.

“Thank you.”  Joel mumbles.

“Never let me see you around here again.  I’ll shoot you on site if either of you come back.”  The young guard glares at Joel.

“Understood.”  Joel grunts and the two of you turn and sluff off into the landfill as the battered guard downs a pill then straightens his posture as he guards the door, staring like a stone statue into the night.

After clambouring and crawling through the tangled jungle of metal and random trash you and Joel finally reach the outter landfill wall.  He falls to his haunches, leaning against the wall and takes a swig of his canteen while he catches his breath.

“You can’t go home.”  You state the obvious but are confused why he would bet so much on your survival.

“Wasn’t much for me there anyways.”  Joel flicks his eyes up to you then takes another swig of his canteen and offers you some.  You shake it off and plunk down next to him, leaning against the wall.

“Why me?”  You turn to him and ask.  “Why would you help me above anyone else?”

Joel shifts uneasily, not sure weather to tell the truth or a lie.

“Money.”  He lies.

“Bullshit.”  You retort as you stare intently at him.  Your eyes on him break down his confidence in the lie and he sighs.

“Maybe.  Were you in a cult?”

“No.”  You say simply.  When Joel rolls his head towards you in disbelief you decide, reluctantly, to elaborate, “I remember fleeing with my father.  I remember traveling through space on a small, cramped ship.”  You retort.  Joel simply continues to stare at you with an expression of disbelief.  “Where could I get those memories from?  And my father says the same thing.”  Joel finally looks away realizing he wont get a straight answer from you that is anywhere near tethered to reality. He decides to drop it and changes the subject.

“I’m gonna boost you up.”  He shuffles to his feet and cups his hands.  “Once you’re up there I’ll move some garbage over I can climb up on to get me a little higher but I’m going to need you to help lift me over.”

“Sure.”  You state looking up at the wall.  “What’s on the other side of that wall?”  You question nervously.

“Somewhere… your father.”  He hadn’t said it as a snarky comment.  There was an air of empathy in his words as he cupped his hands then nodded for you to put your foot in for a boost.  You did as he instructed and with a grunt and a leap up you grabbed the top of the wall and with the momentum of Joel trying to toss you up you managed to scramble to the top and perch there, looking down at him.

Joel heaves some wooden skids and a metal cargo box over to the wall to give him a boost and reaches his hand up at you.

“I could leave you here right now and go on my own.”  Your voice whispered down to him as you held your hand out but it rang out as an offer, not a threat.  Joel slapped his hand onto your forearm then braced it with his other arm and stared back into your eyes as he stated,

“You’d die out there in a day without me.  Besides, you heard the guard.  I can’t go back.  We’re stuck together.”

You nod, solumley, and as he jumps at the wall with all his might and a loud grunt, you heave him up with every last amber of your strength and the two of you tumble over the wall.  He lands on top of you and both of you take a moment to get your wits about you before you realize he’s caging you in on the ground with his body.  It takes you another moment to realize… you think you like it. 

He pushes himself up on his forearms and stares at you for a bit too long.

“Sorry… I didn’t think you were that strong.”

You smile at him, “Must be my alien genetics.”  You joke.

Joel tries to hide his smile as he rolls off of you.  You pull yourself to your feet and make an over exaggerated “UUURGH!” Grunt as you do it and shoot a side eye with a smile at Joel.  He tries to bow his head to hide a chuckle but you catch it and smile to yourself in a silent victory. “You gotta work on that old man grunt. One of these days it’s gonna give away your position.” You smirk. Joel playfully tosses a stick at you.

“I’m fifty six years old you little shit. I’m allowed to have body parts hurt for no reason.”

“Uuuuunghoookay.” You mock. Joel ignores your teasing and looks around the dark forest.

“We’re gonna hike for a few hours then camp in the forest.  Do you have that in you?”  He asks trying to get the interaction more professional.

You put your hands on your lower back and lean back comically with another loud groan, “Urrrgh… I think these weary bones can handle it.”

He hides another chuckle by turning his face away and jabs, simply,

 in a grumble

“Fuck off.”

You and Joel hiked for hours through the woods.  Joel was surprised your eye lids were disobeying you and drooping before his did.  He opted for making camp in the deep woods but with no fire.  Fire could possibly gain the attention of other people.  Other people were almost more dangerous than the infected these days.

He rolled out his sleeping bag, as did you with the lantern in between you.

“Scream if you’re being eaten.”  Joel says nonchalantly.

“Don’t feel you need to.”  You retort.

There’s a long silence and you hear Joel sniffing the air loudly.

“What?”  You ask, annoyed.

“Do you smell that?”  Joel asks.

“Smell what?”  You snap.

“It’s like…” Joel pauses to find his words, “Flowers and citrus.”

“I don’t smell anything.” You shut him down but in the back of your mind there is a tickle that tells you what that smell may be. He says nothing and rolls over in his sleeping bag to go to sleep.

You wake the next morning with a weight on you.  Surprisingly, it’s physically, rather than emotionally.  Joel has his large, strong, arm wrapped over you and one of his legs draped over your frame.  You know you should move away, that this is some sort of internalized behaiour he has become accustomed to and not specific to you.  However, you can’t help but push back into his body.

He moans in his sleep with pleasure and you feel his grasp around you get tighter.  He slowly thrusts into you.  You lean back and whisper to Joel to wake him up, “Joel… Joel!  It’s me… Amy…”  He holds you tighter and pushes his stubbly jaw further into your neck while he whines halfway between sleep and consciousness. His slow and gentle thrusting continues as he’s half asleep as he growls, “You smell so good.”  As he buries his face into your neck and gently kisses your soft skin.

Your brain is faltering, skipping all over the place as Joel worships your flesh while half asleep.  You scramble to collect your thoughts that won’t be corralled.  Your father warned you about this.  You know what this is.

You could have had a chance to hide it, but apparently are traveling alone with one of the only men in the galaxy who is compatible with you.

No! 

You shout to yourself inwardly and shuffle away from Joel’s touch.

“I’m sorry…”  Joel says sorrowfully.  “I don’t know what got into me.”  You turn and look at his deep brown sad eyes and all you want to do is jump on him, feel his  body, let him gently explore you.  You envision it in your mind within seconds and it makes your breath hitch and heart jump but as you look at him, unsure how to proceed, you realize, this needs to wait.  To make sure its not just a hormonal shift you’re having that attracts him to you and you to him.

Fuck, this isn’t good.

You may be going into heat.

But you feel alone and terrified. For once you want some reprieve from just barely surviving and having some actual comfort.

You turn towards Joel and wrap your arms around him.  He lets out a low, exhausted sigh as he nuzzles into your body.

“Don’t you move from here.”  He whispers, half awake, as he pulls you tight.

[freedomfireflies]

If you are open for requests - could you do a series about y/n being from Hungary and meeting harry and developing a relationship. Harry trying to learn about y/n’s country?

“Say it again.”

“Harry—”

“Please.”

With a teasing roll of your eyes, you lean forward, taking his face between your palms as you whisper, “Drágám, nagyon szeretlek.”

He beams, lashes fluttering with admiration as he whispers, “I love you, too.”

Pleased, you straighten up, hands now reaching for the small handle of your cup. “Are you ready?”

“Almost.” He turns his focus back to the notebook on the table, fingers grasping his pen as he begins to scribble along the pages. “Okay, tell me a bit about the Firewatch Tower before we go. I wanna make sure I don’t look like a fucking noob.”

 “Harry,” you can’t help but laugh, head shaking as you take a sip of the warm drink. “I don’t expect you to know everything—”

“Well, I should, shouldn’t I?” His argument is met with raised brows. “Just tell me.”

You sigh, obliging to his request as you return the small dish to the table and cross your arms. “All right. Well, as you can probably tell by the name, Tűztorony, the tower was used to keep watch over any fires or invasions that might threaten the forests.”

Harry nods, immediately taking to the page of his notebook to transcribe the explanation.

“They also used to perform and sing from the Tower for town weddings, which I think is rather neat,” you recall, eyeing the way he underlines the phrase, Likes That They Sang.

“Okay, perfect.” Another nod, now flipping to the next page. “Now tell me about the Lilla…the Lil-fur—”

“Lillafüred,” you correct for him, swallowing an adoring chuckle. “So close, baby.”

“Right, Lilla…yeah, that.” His hand gestures for you to continue.

“Well, it’s beautiful in the fall, which is why I’m taking you there first. Hidden in the mountains, gorgeous trees, especially when they change color. Technically, it’s a castle, but they run it as a hotel. Oh, it’s beautiful, Har. You’re gonna love it.”

His eyes light up like that of a kid and you can’t resist mimicking his excitement.

“There’s a waterfall, and we can rent a water boat…and, actually, I thought we could spend the night,” you admit, offering a suggestive smirk. “My treat. And tomorrow we can head over to meet my parents.”

At the mention of the visit, you watch Harry’s brows crease together. “Right.”

“Harry,” you whine for a second time, laughing a bit as you reach out to squeeze his hand. “Stop, they love you—”

“They tolerate me,” he argues, that ridiculous pout finding its way to his lips. “There’s a difference—”

“That’s just…how they are.” You lean a bit closer, fingertips stroking the soft skin of his palm. “I promise they love you. So, stop doing that—”

“You and I both know that they think you can do better,” he’s quick to remind you, something you’ve noticed truly chips away at his self-assuredness. “And maybe they’re right, but I don’t wanna fucking lose you because of it. Not after everything we did to get here—”

“Harry.” You squeeze his hand. Tight. Reminding him of your presence. “Nobody said anything about losing, édesem. This idea that we’re so different that we can’t possibly make a life together is absolutely ridiculous. Nobody expects you to know everything. I certainly don’t. But just trying to make a home within my culture means the world to me.”

His eyes fall to your lips, expression softening. “I don’t wanna lose you again—”

“You won’t.” You reach for his face, moving for the edge of your chair as you caress the soft skin of his cheeks. “This? S’just a bunch of old buildings, Har. It’s not the important stuff. It’s not what matters to me. You are what matters to me.”

He’s quiet, fingers finding your wrists to keep you close. 

“Promise me you won’t forget,” you demand of him, voice gentle yet firm. “We’ll have years to learn about the history. And the pain, and the beauty, and the little things. But…we do that together, yeah? Together.”

“Together,” he repeats, lips ghosting yours as you watch each fear, each doubt, and each moment of hesitation pass. “A szívem.”

My heart.

A bit surprised at the sentimentally and exhibit of his widened vocabulary, you begin to me. “Say it again, baby.”

He mimics your pleased expression, one hand finding the edge of your chair to yank you close. “A szívem. My whole fucking world, baby.”

“S’kinda hot,” you admit teasingly as his brow raises.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers find the curls at the nape of his neck as you tilt your head and brush your nose with his. “I love you, Harry.”

His breath hitches, chest rising and falling with amorous anticipation. “I love you.”

And despite each moment of restless longing and trepidation that’s followed you both since the moment you met… 

You’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Together.

Thank you so much for entrusting me with such a sweet request!

And if I had the time and knowledge to be able to write this story the way it deserves, this would be so much fun to make a series of, but I hope I could do your request a least a little bit of justice! 😭💞

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝘼𝙐𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

i wanted to use this picture so badly but I knew it would ruin the mood.

∘ request(s):

"ayo? they’re not sleeping with anyone else??? does that mean???? raw??? w edgy karl????????

"ooooo i’m lacking in edgy karl content😩 for the next one could you do one where maybe the reader is being a brat and karl puts them in their place? if that makes sense?"

"Ever since I read your edgy Karl x reader I been getting massive brainrot where reader is just questioning their relationship and Karl is just dismissive about it. It feels great to get that off my chest. 😭"

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, prostitution (sort of), drinking, Todd the frat boy, crude/suggestive language, degradation, asphyxiation, spitting, angst

∘ word count: ~5k

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ song recommendation: Come Here by Dominic Fike

a/n: y'all really drive this series oml. thank you to all your requests! should I do song recs on these or is that dumb? happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You adjusted your dress, attempting to not look as unkempt as you felt. Your hair had luckily survived the bus ride to Karl’s, yet your clothing was wrinkled from being smashed against various girls with the same destination in mind. You scoffed to yourself as you leaned against the side of the house, tugging your heel into a more comfortable position as one of the women in the group knocked on the large door.

It felt like there was always some random party blaring out of the windows, so you were surprised to be mixed into an excited group of girls waiting to be invited in by one of the Brothers. The only time when you’d been over to visit Karl and there wasn’t some kind of celebration of a random event was directly before spring break.

A nameless member dressed in a tux answered the door and you bit back a laugh as he welcomed everyone into the foyer. As you scanned the crowd for Karl, you noticed the number of older people lounging about in formal attire. You furrowed your brows slightly, knowing that Todd was probably behind whatever cultist bullshit was about to happen.

You wracked your brain trying to remember if Karl had mentioned anything about the importance tonight, but knowing the two of you, he’d probably begun to tell you only for him to get distracted.

A familiar laugh drew your attention to one corner of the living room where a man who looked dangerously like Karl playfully shrugged out of the grasp of another frat member. His nails were bare and he lacked any piercings, his hair even tamed so it fell just right over his forehead. You couldn’t deny the way your mind ran absolutely feral at the view of him, as if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where Karl was actually Carl.

As someone else struck up the conversation in his group, he turned to look over the crowd, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His eyes brightened as he spotted you in the mix of the group. Whoever had let you into the house handed you and the rest of the people a brochure, something you then realized most of the room was holding.

You snorted slightly as you read, “46th ANNUAL MEMBER AUCTION,” printed boldly across the front page in elegant script. Your stomach twisted slightly at the discovery. You flipped open the pamphlet, seeing a list of numbers and the names of corresponding Brothers.

Karl was 23.

“I didn’t even sign up, honestly,” a voice called in your ear as Karl leaned over your shoulder, peering at the page in your hands. His cologne was more expensive than he usually wore, made obvious by the way it complemented his natural scent with a fuller smell.

You turned slightly, nearly leaning into his warm breath above you as you moved to look at him. “Come on, let them pimp you out,” you joked, your finger underlining one of the details on the back. “It’s for the frat Karl,” you mocked, making him roll his eyes playfully. “You look awfully pretty to not have signed up,” you chided, a small amount of jealousy tugging in your chest.

He ran his tongue across his teeth, his eyes dancing with mischief as he looked down at you. “Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “You know how loyal I am to this frat. I think it’s only right,” you continued to josh, eliciting a low chuckle from him. The smell of his whiskey hung beautifully on him. You’d be damned not to acknowledge what a catch he was.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and settled it on the small of your back, the two of you mumbling to each other as you headed towards the kitchen so he could pour you a drink. As he explained the process of the auction, your nerves started to change drastically. Luckily, your exterior kept this from Karl because you weren���t even sure yourself why you could be feeling so strongly about the event. “... Really, only the married guys get out of it without being heckled all night. It’s… I don’t know. It’s pretty lame.”

“So basically, it’s an event where the guys objectify themselves in the name of the frat." You jested, your eyes glued on his pinky ring, the only symbol of the Karl you knew. "Have you done this before?”

Karl shook his head. “I wasn’t old enough, thank God.” He leaned against the counter beside you, his back to the circulating groups of people so he was only looking at you. As he slouched, he matched your height.

You reached forward, taking the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt between your finger pads. “I’m trying to decide if I’m scared or aroused by this version of you,” you tittered, wanting so badly to feel his teeth against your skin. He smirked at you. “It’s like Wonderbread you. Like you’d have to sign a contract with me before you gave me a hug,” you teased further, making the smug look on his face twist into a laugh.

He leaned closer to you, his hand brushing to lay against the curve of your hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can still rip you in half.”

You took a sip of the Brandy in your glass to hide the moan wanting to rip through your throat at the closeness of him. His lips brushed against your skin before pressing a kiss behind your ear subtly. You nudged him away from you reluctantly as Todd strolled into the kitchen, arms raised slightly as if he’d been searching the high heavens for Karl.

He moved to stand between the two of you, reaching for a decanter of a liquid you couldn’t place. Karl crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Karl, I have been looking everywhere for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pin with Karl’s number on it and nudging it towards him on the counter. “You know, it’s kind of fun that partners can’t bid because-” he paused before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his side. You let out a laugh, resting your hand against his chest as Karl’s eyes darkened at the two of you. “-Your lovebug can have me tonight then, huh?” He mocked, smirking.

“Well, technically, I’m not his partner…” you added, pretending to touch Todd flirtatiously.

Todd’s arms pulled you closer. “You know what I mean, Princess.” You snickered, pushing him off of you as he moved to lean against the sink behind you. “Come on, Karl. I’m practically handing you the opportunity to hook up with MILFs, random TAs, and sorority girls,” he begged, making Karl pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That does sound intriguing,” you chimed, making Karl giggle mildly.

Todd’s eyes lit up with a sarcasticness as if you were actually promoting the idea. “You can go instead if you want to, babygirl,” he offered, tilting his head in an action to resemble a car salesman.

You looked to Karl with raised eyebrows and he shook his head in disbelief at the stupidity of whatever banter you and Todd were striking up. “That would be fun! Please, illegally pimp me out instead. I want to be solicited-”

Todd’s hand reached out to clamp over your mouth. “Okay stop.” He straightened his tie and the pin on his lapel in the shape of a number 12. You quietly wondered who were in the top places and what they were doing to be in those spots. “Karl, you’re a legacy dick. Most of those women out there probably hooked up with your family members and are back for more of that sweet sweet Jacobs-”

Karl cut him off gruffly. “-I’ll do it if you don’t finish that sentence and never bring that to my attention again.” Todd pretended to zip his lips before pointing to the pin and walking off. You took the pin in your hands, trying to ignore the shakiness of your fingers as you pinned it onto his jacket. “You know his name is actually Mark, right? He pretended to be a Romney for his first two years here.”

You snorted. “Don’t feed me that information right now.” You wet your lips, feeling his eyes on you as you brushed your hands down his lapels. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… I was just joking.” You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Like, we can leave if you want,” you offered softly.

Karl chuckled, moving his hands up to rest over yours. “Someone’ll pay fifty bucks to take me to some dodgy hotel for ten minutes. It’ll be okay,” he assured. “Maybe I'll have fun, who knows.” He drew you closer once again. You swore you could get drunk off the intoxicating allure of his breath. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly worried about having that conversation with him. “If you’re okay with it, I am,” you answered quietly, sending him a small shrug.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, shrugging back at you.

Everyone began to gather around the grand piano in one corner of the living room. You could suddenly feel the heat of the massive fireplace against your bare legs as Karl rested an arm against the wall above you, leaning over you slightly. “How much would you bid on me, if you could?” He whispered as Todd explained some rules to the bidders.

You looked up at him reaching up to play with his lot number. You hummed slightly in mock thought. “Maybe a packet of ramen, a Speedway rewards card, and…” you trailed off before digging into your purse and grabbing a handful of quarters, “five dollars in linty coins?” You joked, sending him an innocent smile.

He bit back a laugh. “I feel like you’re the only one that knows my true value,” he quipped sarcastically.

As the auction began to kick off, men were being bought for various currencies, from picnics in the park to gala dates and etcetera. The tension in your shoulders began to cool as there were fewer ambiguous payments. The women and men that paid sums of money were the ones that worried you the most. Karl’s hand slithered up your back until he reached the back of your neck, pressing his fingers into your skin almost possessively.

You focused on the crowd, trying to notice any peering eyes cutting into Karl, but no one seemed to have the slightest clue. Karl’s fingers worked at a knot in your neck, making you want to moan at his touch. You hated being this close to him and unable to mark him as your own. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the skin on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by your dress. “Relax,” he whispered, heat raking through your body at the sound of his voice.

Finally, his number came up. Before the auctioneer could finish introducing him, a handful of sorority girls sparked up with heavy numbers in the air. Your eyes widened and you could feel Karl stiffen behind you at their urgency. As their bids began to grow and add zeros, your heart began to beat in your ears.

“$5000.” Your mouth grew dry as the number halted the noise in the room. Bewilderedly, you searched the room until your eyes landed on a woman in her early-50s. You couldn’t help your mouth slightly fall open. “I’d like to bid $5000,” she repeated. You downed the rest of your Brandy, letting the alcohol sting your throat and warm your stomach. As Karl’s turn closed, your mind went blank. What did I expect to happen? You scorned.

After about an hour, the bidding was over. You plastered on a smile after everyone exited the room, standing before Karl and spending the time you had left letting your mind race with emotion. “What’s wrong?” Karl asked, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You swatted him off. “You excited to spend time with your new mommy?” You chided, making him raise his eyebrows. Your voice came out a bit more condescending than you’d intended.

Something dark flitted across his expression. “Definitely.” He pressed closer to your ear again. “I bet she cums on the slow stroke,” he leered, making you inch away from him. He giggled slightly at his own joke, before noticing your quietness. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, unable to explain just how you were feeling about the situation. It was as if reality had seeped into your bones at what had happened.

Karl ran his fingers against his bottom lip as he looked at you, the skin flushing a deeper red. You’d seen the color too many times to count, but it was usually due to stimulation from you. “Don’t be like that. What’s going on?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms softly. This seemed to only further allure him. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’ll start treating you like a brat,” he whispered, perking your attention. You let your eyes wander back to the ground. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. His calm expression added arousal to your swimming cauldron of feelings.

You pulled out of his grasp. You bit your tongue, grasping at your thoughts and searching for what you wanted to tell him. His grey irises swirled with some kind of worry and what you could only describe as fondness. Instead, you chickened out. “Just use protection, okay?” You faltered.

His features remained quiet as if in thought. In one swift movement, his hand brushed against your jaw, pressing his lips against yours. Your whole body relaxed into his touch, your eyes closing to relish in the feeling of silent loyalty to you. As his tongue brushed against your lips, it was as if he was stating just what you meant to him. If you weren’t in the right mind, you’d moan a gracious pledge of your mutual devotion into his mouth.

He pulled away shortly, leaving you flushed and winded as he reached his thumb up to swipe away the smearing of your lipstick. “I’m in your fuckin’ pocket, remember?” He acquiesced almost emotionlessly, before dropping his hands and letting you stumble. You had to will your body not to grin at what he’d said as the woman who bid on him approached the two of you.

She shook hands with both of you talking about the thrill of the event and how she’s gone for the last couple of years. “Ma’am, he’s a virgin. Please be careful,” you noted as Karl helped her into her coat. Karl’s eyes shot daggers into you, biting back a laugh of his.

The woman giggled with her whole chest. “Oh, darling. That won’t be an issue,” she gasped as she caught her breath. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile as you made eye contact with an ill-looking Karl.

You opted to head back to your apartment, eyeing the clock each time you get an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your roommate had gone out for the night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. As two hours passed, you were beginning to feel phantom notifications from your phone, your heart skipping with faltering hope.

As if your prayers had finally been answered, a brief knock at your door sent you jumping over the back of the couch and tugging on a hoodie before you threw open the door. Karl stood leaning against the frame and cracking his knuckles. He eyed you curiously as he noticed your urgency. His shirt was barely buttoned and untucked, hair ruffled and curling here and there. As you let him into your apartment, your mouth grew dry with anticipation. Karl slumped onto your couch, kicking his feet up on your coffee table and raising an eyebrow at you.

You wet your lips, sitting on the arm of a chair near his side of the couch. “How was it?” You asked. “Did you learn anything?”

He scoffed, humor dancing behind his eyes. “You will never guess where I was.” You furrowed your brows at him as if it wasn’t obvious. To this he shook his head, sitting up to lean his elbows on his knees, reaching forward to pull you into the empty spot beside him. “So, that woman owns an art studio downtown and she holds classes for whoever. The nail polish girl in my art class is like the right-hand man to that woman and she caught wind of the auction,” he paused to loosen a few more of his buttons. “The woman has always gone to the auction, but the girl knew I was participating this year and recommended me.”

“Okay, so… You were in an art class all night?” You probed, making him grin smugly at you.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Not exactly.”

You snorted, leaning into the cushions and turning towards him. “They weren’t drawing you nude were they?” You joked sarcastically, the mental image proving to be almost unthinkable. His eyes shifted to his lap as he chuckled and you punched his arm. “You’re kidding!”

He shook his head, biting back a grin. “I had old dudes staring at my dick for two hours straight and trying to recreate it in charcoal.” You covered your mouth with your hand, waiting for him to reveal that he was joking. “They liked my cheekbones,” he taunted.

You huffed in disbelief. “Oh my fucking God.” Your mind was utterly blank. “So, you didn’t sleep with anyone?”

He smiled at you. “Nope. You’re still my only one.” Your cheeks flushed at this. “That being said, you were so incredibly immature earlier,” he chided, making your eyebrow perk with discontent.

“Excuse me,” you nearly hissed.

His eyes navigated your body. “Jealous little brat, honestly,” he scoffed. “Make it up to me.” You stared at him blankly, as if unable to comprehend his words. He moved his arms to rest on the back of the couch, letting his legs spread a bit further. You watched him intently as his jaw tensed, looking slightly intimidating as he eyed you. His calm expression started you, gears turning behind his eyes. “Did I stutter?” He nipped.

You climbed onto his lap, letting his hands slip beneath your hoodie as he gripped your hips, pulling you down to grind against his leg. Heat spread across your body at the friction, realizing now just how needy you’d been for most of the night. Funny how you didn’t even think of taking care of yourself without Karl there.

He tugged your collar to the side, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the cool temperature of the room. You felt his teeth glide over the valleys of your collarbones as if threatening to mark you as the brat you were. His brat.

His fingers dug into your skin, his knee bouncing slightly as he pushed you to increase your speed. You moaned against his shoulder, reaching the hand that wasn’t planted securely on his arm towards his belt. The clasp was almost second nature for you, considering the various places and positions you’d been in and wrestling with it.

As you slipped your hand into his pants, he groaned, bucking against your touch as if he'd been hungry for you all night. He rested his hand in the crook of your neck, roughly bringing your lips to his own. Instead of kissing you immediately, his lips brushed against yours, the smell of his breath dancing against your skin and forcing you to want him more as your hips moved to make up for the lack of his taste on your tongue.

Your hand gripped him through his boxers, earning a muffled grunt of pleasure from Karl. His eyes threatened to roll as you began to palm him, his breathing deep and needy. Curses hissed through his teeth, the sound further adding to how turned on you were. "Give me your mouth," he moaned, a demand you were more than happy to fulfill as you slipped onto your knees in front of him. Karl's hand gathered your hair as you tugged his boxers down. Your fingers traced the hem of his dress pants that ran against the inside of his thigh before attending to his arousal once again.

Then something clicked into your mind. "I've been thinking about what Todd said," you began, Karl's reaction dulling as you began to pump your hand around his dick. "About me sleeping with him," you continued, your voice dripping with a venomous innocence.

Karl twitched in your hand, his grip on your hair tightening. You moaned slightly as his eyes hardened. "Tread lightly, pet," he nearly growled. The gruffness of his voice sending goosebumps down your back. "You're on thin fucking ice already."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, crowding his lap. "I wonder if he's bigger than you," you commented.

You seemed to find the last straw rather quickly as Karl grabbed your arms, pulling you up and throwing you on the couch beneath him. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, ripping your underpants down your legs. "And here I was about to make this about you," he chuckled darkly, leaning on his knee to slip his jacket off his shoulders and discard his button-up shirt.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him before he ground his hips against yours roughly, clashing his lips against yours. He tugged on your hair tightly, tongue pressing into your mouth.

His lips left yours, pulling your hoodie over your head and throwing it across the room before digging his teeth into your chest. You moaned at his efforts, basking in the roughness of his actions. Karl pushed himself into you without warning, and without hesitation, he began to snap his hips into yours. Your thighs tightened around his waist, attempting to adjust to his speed before he hooked one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, pushing it towards your chest.

His hand moved to wrap around your neck possessively, his eyes burning into yours with a mix of lust and glimmers of the sadistic side of him that loved to see you tremble beneath his touch as he restricted your breathing, only for you to gasp for air when he allowed. "Fucking brat," he barked, pounding into you faster. "Bring him up again and I'll make your life miserable," he groaned, spitting into your mouth to illustrate his point.

You let him take his anger out on you as you fought not to grin at the pure sparks of pleasure pulsing through your veins at the view of him completely dominating you. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt not to cum from the intense stimulation, your fingers digging into the softness of the couch beneath you as you searched for something to anchor yourself.

Karl leaned back slightly, dragging a hand through his hair as he slowed his hips, his eyes glued to yours, the new angle driving him deeper into you. The view of him above you like this oddly reminded you of when the two of you went to parties and spent the night grinding against each other in the massive crowds of your peers to an unidentifiable song.

Any idiot could tell Karl could fuck by the way he danced.

Karl pressed his hips firmly against yours, bucking into you relentlessly once again, pulling your hands above your head and holding your wrists in his fist. He kissed you harshly once again, swallowing your attempts to catch your breath and dragging his teeth across your lips again.

You felt unable to control your orgasm as it raced through you, your moans echoing into Karl's mouth as your body tensed. Karl used your orgasm to ride out the rest of his own pleasure, smirking slightly at your disheveled appearance.

As the air settled, the two of you straighten up the living room, making sure to find each article of clothing so your roommate wouldn't comment. Karl sat back down on the couch, reaching an arm out for you. You raised an eyebrow at him hesitantly, with a small smirk playing on your lips.

He huffed jokingly. "Come on, I can't fuck your brains out and not hug you at least for a bit," he joshed, gesturing for you to join him.

You let out a small laugh. The man with multiple piercings, tattoos, and a glare that can insight nightmares, was always the first to ask to cuddle. You tucked into the spot beneath his arm, letting his grasp tighten around you as you wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

His heartbeat thumped against your ear, making you want to slip into a deep sleep. "I think we should set Todd up with Nail Polish Girl," you joked, breaking into the comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced up at Karl as you said this, hoping to gauge his reaction as you silently apologized for what you'd said earlier in the name of getting him riled up.

He chuckled shortly. "We should probably straighten ourselves out before we meddle in other people's relationships," he mocked. It'd come out as a light-hearted statement, but it tugged heavily at your nerves.

You pushed yourself to sit up and look at him, suddenly anxious. "What do you mean? We're fine, right?"

Karl smirked. "Well yeah, but sooner or later we're going to have to figure out what we're doing." He wet his lips. "I mean, how much longer are we supposed to just mindlessly hook up."

"We're not mindlessly hooking up. We're friends too," you reasoned, your voice uneven as you attempted to inject humor in your statements, hoping to mask your hesitation.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, but don't you want more? Like who do you say I am when your friends ask?" He raised his eyebrows, shortly waiting for a response before continuing. "A booty call, right? Am I supposed to be a booty call forever?"

You were taken aback slightly. His tone wasn't provocative, but that didn't stop your heart from racing. "What are you saying?"

He shrugged. "What does it sound like I'm saying?" He sat up a bit more to angle towards you. "I don't mean now, but eventually I'd like this to mean a bit more."

You stood up from the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table as you reached for a pair of discarded sweatpants and slipped them on. "This is a lot to think about," you mumbled, unable to make eye contact with him. Your mind raced with the different outcomes of what he was talking about. Also, all of them involved the two of you going stale and him finding comfort in other people. "I mean… what we have now is good. Isn't it?"

Karl stood too, raising his hands slightly as if he were consoling a cornered animal. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I thought we were on the same page?" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously, looking for words. "I- uh. I'm sorry." His hands fisted at his sides awkwardly, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Sirens wailed from outside your windows, the street becoming the only noise in your apartment as he awaited your next move. "I'm actually… gonna head out. I'll uh… I'll text you later," he stated, grabbing his jacket, gauging your reaction.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu

[glowingbadger]

You may have a little Lorenz Prompt as promised. As a treat. Here goes~

Lorenz taking thorough notes to surprise his s/o (is it the blog owner? the reader? some random character? It doesn't matter~!) with the most lovely, romantic date imaginable based around everything they like. He wouldn't put in this much effort to TRULY impress someone, but you're worth every step and more.

Enjoy where this takes your thoughts~!

(and pls don't eat it, Tumblr)

Y'know what, I've had a shitty day and I just finished writing some darker content- so I am going to ~indulge~. Normally I try to make my Reader character as broadly relatable as possible, but today we're going with MY preferences and interests because I WANT A NICE DATE WITH LORENZ GODDAMNIT

Lorenz (FE3H) x GN Reader - perfect date

Fluff - SFW

Today simply has to be flawless- the Gloucester heir will not accept any less. Not when it comes to you. Of course, Lorenz holds himself to high standards in all things, but the thought of providing anything less than perfection for you is one that pains him to even consider. Especially now that he'd finally gotten the courage- or, rather, found the right and proper time to ask you to spend the day with him.

You approach him at the Monastery gates not long after noon that day, and find your pace slowing as you eye him before he's noticed you. Without his usual elegant set of armor, you can appreciate the way constant marching and training has toned his slender frame- and appreciate it, you most certainly do. Though he soon turns to face you, and your eyes dart back up from a rather ignoble place to meet his instead.

"You're as radiant as ever, I see," he says with a warm smile. He offers you an arm and you take it, replying with a grin,

"You've already got me for the day, Lorenz, there's no need for flattery."

"'Flattery' implies a measure of falsehood," he says with confidence, leading you towards town, "and I could never bring myself to lie to one so lovely."

As your time together proceeds, you can't help but feel that, some way, somehow, Lorenz has some kind of psychic insight into your preferences. Everywhere you turn, whatever your heart could desire is immediately available and set before you with hardly any negotiation at play. At the first flower stall you find, Lorenz takes a moment to exchange words with the owner while you admire the sprawling array of colorful blooms; and by the time he's returned, he's holding a woven crown of delicate little white flowers. With an admiring smile, he carefully places it on your head, a hand trailing down a lock of your hair as he pulls away to observe you.

With a shy grin, you perform an exaggerated curtsy, prompting Lorenz to laugh fondly and take you by the hand. He twirls you slowly under his arm, watching you all the while, then says,

"They suit you every bit as wonderfully as I'd thought."

"They're my favorites," you reply.

"I know- erm, that is- I know of a superb bakery down the block this way," Lorenz seems a bit red in the face, but you chalk that up to nerves.

He's not wrong though- this bakery is something else. The selection and quality of ingredients is on an entirely new level compared to the Monastery's dining hall, and you find yourself overwhelmed even reading down the list of items posted to the wall. By your third pass over the full range of options, the words are starting to dance in your eyes- but a warm touch at your arm shakes your focus. Lorenz leans close to be heard over the rapidly growing crowd at the bakery's counter,

"Might I make a recommendation?" you nod, and he goes on, "I happen to have it on good authority that there's an item not included on this menu that you may like. It incorporates three different treatments of Brigid cocoa, if that is of any interest to you."

Your eyes light up and you can practically feel the rich sweetness across your tongue already.

"That sounds incredible," you reply, enraptured by the very thought. When you start to ask how he'd heard of such a thing, Lorenz has already turned to speak to the worker taking orders, and your words drown among the crowd of customers. The speed at which he acquires this mythical pastry only fills your mind with more questions. How did he manage to purchase an off-menu item so quickly? Wouldn't the cost of something requiring those many luxurious imported ingredients be astronomical?

But then, Lorenz returns to your side and guides you out of the crowded shop, and the sight of the delectable chocolatey treat in his hands dashes all other thoughts from your mind. He hands it to you wrapped in a handkerchief, and you can't help but immediately plunge in for a bite.

"Mmmm-!" you wear an expression of pure bliss as your mouth fills with sweet, savory chocolate, "Oh- Lorenz, it's so good!"

When you glance up at him, he's watching you with a strangely heavy expression. Once more, his fair complexion is painted a light red. You tilt your head curiously, and he seems to resurface from whatever thoughts had taken him for the moment.

"Here- you should try some," you break off a piece and hold it up to him.

"Are- are you certain? I had intended for you to enjoy it to your heart's content," he stammers out, evidently still a bit flushed.

"I want you to get to have some too. Please?" You hate to resort to puppy eyes with him, but it's hard to argue with the results. He leans forward and accepts the piece of pastry from your hand. You don't shy away from him in the slightest, and so a brief brush of his lower lip along the tip of your finger simply can't be avoided. Lorenz does his best to move past this without acknowledgement, and you two enjoy your treat together as you take in the bustle of the town around you.

The day continues in kind, with Lorenz apparently having painstakingly arranged every element of this date from start to finish. At a local seller of antiques and luxury goods, he secures permission to view and explore rare and dazzling paintings from around the world. Here, he's rather uncharacteristically reserved. Wandering the storage area like your own personal art museum, he watches you with evident warmth as you exclaim at the rich and varied pigments, the innovative expressions of human form, and so on.

After this, he brings you to a tavern at the far end of town, where he's reserved the second floor exclusively for you two to enjoy a quiet, intimate meal together. By this point, you've finally gotten around to considering just how much gold must have gone into this singular date.

"Lorenz," you say cautiously, "are you sure it's okay to go through all of this and spend so much just for-"

He raises a hand to cut you off, then replies,

"I assure you that it is," he takes your hand in his, holding it warmly from across your private table, "wealth has no value that we ourselves do not assign to it, and I have chosen to spend it on your pleasure. I can think of no greater use for a bit of coin."

The rest of the early evening is filled with pleasant chat and the occasional subtle sweet-talk. As you discuss everything you've seen and experienced that day, Lorenz engages you with surprisingly astute comments and observations. He's always at his best when he feels permitted to simply talk with you, as one person to another, free of the pressures and expectations of his birthright that he shoulders without a thought.

The sun is steadily lowering behind the hills and walls of the surrounding town by the time you make your way back together. As you walk hand in hand watching the Monastery gates rise ahead of you, Lorenz clears his throat abruptly and says,

"If I may steal you away for just a little while longer, there was... actually someone I thought you'd like to meet."

"Oh? What an honor," you say with a smile, "Do I get any hints?"

Lorenz gives a good-natured chuckle and says,

"Only that I think you'll get along splendidly."

And of all places throughout Garreg Mach's grounds, you begin to recognize that he is leading you towards the stables. You've met Lorenz's horse before- a lovely mare with a calm and agreeable temperment. If not her, then...

"Eloise?" Lorenz calls out in a gentle voice, "Eloise, come say hello- Ellie? Come now, don't tell me you've chosen tonight to become bashful..." at his call, a svelte black cat with delicate little white paws comes trotting out to meet you. Your heart positively aches and melts at the sight of her eagerly approaching Lorenz with clear comfort and familiarity.

"Lorenz, you... have a cat?" You say with obvious disbelief.

"She's one of the Monastery's strays, to be clear," he says, "She helps with the mice in the stables. Evidently, she had become quite fond of my preferred horse- and so eventually became fond of me as well."

Fond seems an understatement- she very clearly adores him. With a chorus of happy little mews, she circles his legs and rubs against him until he crouches down to offer her his hand. As he does, a shred of parchment flutters from his pocket onto the ground. Eloise targets it like a seasoned warrior and pounces at it with gusto. With a laugh, you kneel down to retrieve whatever this paper she's captured might be.

"Now Eloise, none of that- you must behave genteel-like with guests."

As he firmly lectures the cat, you glance at the paper in your hand. Nearly every inch of it is covered in an elegant, curling script that you imagine must belong to Lorenz. It looks like a... list of some kind. As your eyes scan down the page, you begin to recognize a pattern. Your favorite flowers, favorite desserts, favorite types of books and places around town- plus, to the side, the word "cats?" underlined several times. For a moment, you simply cover your mouth to hold in a snort of laughter. Then, you come to kneel beside Lorenz as he's failing to convince his feline friend to stop swatting at his hair.

"So- you've been taking very thorough notes lately." you say, nudging his arm playfully. He turns to face you with an immediate look of panic. Lavender eyes widen and glance down to the parchment in your hand, then back to you. He visibly deflates and says,

"Goddess- you must find me such a fool-"

You press your lips firmly to his before he can say another word. With a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flutter shut and he leans into your kiss. His lips are wonderfully soft, and the subtle scent of his cologne surrounds your senses as you tilt your head to seal your lips to his more firmly. You're not certain how long you remain like this, but only the dull ache of kneeling on the dirt and the incessant sound of Eloise bapping her paw against the paper in your hand bring you back to your surroundings. When you part from him, you brush aside the silky curtain of his hair to run your hand along his face, and say,

"I had a wonderful time today, Lorenz- and it means the world to me that you put so much thought into this. But next time, you don't have to study so hard, okay?"

For a moment, he seems speechless. Then, he gives a shy chuckle.

"You have bested me yet again, it would seem. How can I ever hope to become a man worthy of you when you are ever more lovely with each passing day?"

Eloise gives an insistent chirp and rubs once more against his leg, evidently tired of distractions from the attention she feels she's owed. Your smile widens, and you scratch her ear fondly.

"I think there's at least two of us who like you just as you are, Lorenz."

[anti-catradora-receipts]

Catra abused Adora.

I want to start off by explaining my own experience with watching She-Ra for the first time. I started to watch the show and continued to watch it for various reasons. But I want to make it clear that I wasn’t watching the show to see who ended up with who. I enjoyed the show mostly because it had such wonderful messages surrounding healthy families, friendships, and relationships. And so, one of the main themes of the show ended up being: abuse. 

The show demonstrated that abuse can take a variety of forms. The show demonstrated that people can suffer from abuse in different ways. The show presented that people can break the cycle of abuse and people can continue the cycle of abuse. The show demonstrated that in some cases people can try and help an abusive person, but the abusive person may abuse the person trying to help. The show also highlighted that people are allowed to leave abusive relationships.

Before we begin, I want to note that I won’t be answering the question “Did Catra’s own experiences of abuse influence her actions?” Because the answer to this question is obviously Yes. And I sympathize with Catra and the fact that she was abused while she was growing up. In addition, there’s a lot of complexity and depth surrounding the abuse Catra received. But Catra also continued the cycle of abuse. And in real life, people who have been abused can also end up abusing other people. 

Now, since we’ll be focusing on Catradora in this commentary, we must look strictly at the interactions between Catra and Adora. The reason behind this is we are evaluating only whether the relationship between Catra and Adora is healthy. In addition, if your friend told you they were being abused, would you ask the question, “I understand, but what about your abuser? Was your abuser abused?”. No, I don’t think you would. You’d ask your friend, “Is there any way I can help?” And so, in this case, Adora is your friend and Catra is the abuser.

Thus, the main question remains: Did Catra abuse Adora? And the answer is Yes.

(Please note that the underlined statements are hyperlinked to websites providing information on abuse.)

Signs of Emotional Abuse

Catra has unrealistic expectations of Adora:

Catra makes unreasonable demands of Adora.

Catra expects Adora to put everything aside and meet her needs.

Catra is constantly dissatisfied no matter how much Adora gives.

Catra invalidates Adora:

Catra undermines, dismisses, and distorts Adora’s perceptions of reality.

Catra accuses Adora of being "crazy”.

Catra refuses to acknowledge or accept Adora’s opinions or ideas as valid.

Catra dismisses Adora’s requests, wants, and needs as ridiculous or unmerited.

Catra suggests that Adora’s perceptions are wrong or that Adora cannot be trusted by saying things like “you’re not making sense”.

Catra uses emotional blackmail:

Catra manipulates and controls Adora by making Adora feel guilty.

Catra uses Adora’s fears, values, compassion, or other hot buttons to control Adora or the situation.

Catra exaggerates Adora’s flaws or points Adora’s flaws out in order to deflect attention or to avoid taking responsibility for her poor choices or mistakes.

Catra denies that an event took place/lies about it.

Catra acts superior:

Catra treats Adora like Catra’s inferior.

Catra blames Adora for her mistakes.

Catra doubts everything Adora says and attempts to prove Adora wrong.

Catra talks down to Adora.

Catra uses sarcasm when interacting with Adora.

Catra acts like she’s always right, knows what’s best, and is smarter than Adora.

Catra controls and isolates Adora:

Catra treats Adora like a possession or property.

Signs of Physical Abuse

Catra kidnaps Adora.

Catra scratches Adora.

Catra shoves Adora.

Catra kicks Adora.

Catra slaps Adora.

Catra uses weapons on Adora.

Catra physically restrains Adora.

Catra attempts to murder Adora multiple times.

Adora suffered from Catra’s abuse and Adora displayed the effects of this abuse:

Short Term Effects

confusion

fear

hopelessness

shame

Long-term effects

guilt

anxiety

Adora also tried tactics that are not effective ways of dealing with abuse:

Adora arguing with Catra.

Adora trying to understand or make excuses for Catra.

Adora attempting to appease Catra.

Adora also figures out how to properly deal with Catra’s abuse:

Adora makes herself a priority.

Adora establishes boundaries.

Adora stops blaming herself.

Adora realizes she can’t fix Catra.

Adora avoids engaging with Catra.

Adora builds a support network.

Adora deserves to be in a healthy relationship, which consists of:

Trust

Adora should be confident her partner won’t do anything to hurt her or ruin the relationship.

In a healthy relationship, trust comes easily and Adora shouldn’t have to question her partner’s intentions or whether her partner has her back.

Honesty

Adora should be able to be truthful and candid without fearing how her partner will respond. 

Adora’s partner may not like what Adora has to say, but should respond to disappointing news in a considerate way.

Respect

Adora’s partner should value Adora’s beliefs and opinions.

Adora’s partner should love Adora for who she is.

Adora should feel comfortable setting boundaries and should feel confident that her partner will respect those boundaries. 

Adora’s partner should cheer for Adora when Adora achieves something. 

Adora’s partner should support Adora’s hard work and dreams, and appreciate Adora.

Equality

Adora’s relationship should feel balanced.

Both Adora and her partner should put the same effort into the success of the relationship. 

Neither Adora’s nor her partner’s opinions should dominate. Instead, they both should hear each other out and make compromises when they don’t want the same thing. 

Adora should feel like her needs, wishes and interests are just as important as her partner’s. 

Kindness

Adora’s partner should be caring and empathetic to Adora, and should provide comfort and support.

In a healthy relationship, Adora’s partner will do things that they know will make Adora happy. 

Kindness should be a two-way street in Adora’s relationship: it’s given and returned. 

Adora’s partner should show compassion for Adora and the things Adora cares about.

Taking Responsibility

Adora’s partner should own up to their actions and words. 

Adora’s partner should not place blame and should be able to admit when they make a mistake. 

Adora’s partner should genuinely apologize when they’ve done something wrong and continually try to make positive changes to better the relationship. 

Adora’s partner should be able take ownership for the impact of their words or behaviour had, even if it wasn’t their intention.

Healthy Conflict

Adora and her partner should be able to openly and respectfully discuss issues and confront disagreements non-judgmentally. 

Adora’s partner should not belittle or yell during an argument.

Adora’s relationship should have healthy conflict by recognizing the root issue and addressing it respectfully before it escalates into something bigger. 

Fun

Adora should enjoy spending time with her partner.

Adora and her partner should bring out the best in each other.  

A healthy relationship should feel easy and make Adora happy. 

Adora should be able to let loose, laugh, and be themselves.

Adora’s relationship should not bring Adora’s mood down but should cheer Adora up. 

Adora’s relationship doesn’t have to be fun 100% of the time, but the good times should definitely outweigh the bad.

In conclusion:

Whatever Catra says, Catra’s violence towards Adora is unacceptable. 

Catra’s violent behavior is always Catra’s responsibility, not Adora’s.

Catra’s abuse is not okay or justifiable.

There are so many scenes throughout the series where Catra emotionally and physically abused Adora, and these scenes are captured on this blog. 

I just want to add that even when Catra emotionally and physically abused Adora, Adora continuously tried to reach out and help Catra. Adora gave Catra so many chances for her to apologize and rectify her mistakes. But Catra didn’t. Not only that, when Adora left, Catra continued to abuse people. Catra emotionally abused Scorpia. Then, when Scorpia left, Catra began abusing Lonnie. Catra’s abuse didn’t stop when Adora left, Catra just found a new victim.

In addition, there were so many significant moments of growth for Adora. Adora found people who supported her and did not abuse her. Adora began to heal from Catra’s abuse. Adora no longer made excuses for Catra. Adora realized that she is not responsible for Catra’s atrocious actions. 

Adora was strong and brave for moving forward in her life without her abuser. 

Moreover, Adora is a victim of abuse. Catra abused Adora emotionally and physically. Catra repeatedly admits to manipulating Adora in order to meet her own selfish goals. Catra did not show any remorse for her abuse against Adora throughout seasons 1 to 4. Catra continuously blamed Adora for her own atrocious actions. And finally, Catra attempted to murder Adora on several occasions. 

And here’s the most important thing. I don’t care who Adora would have ended up with. I just care about the fact that Adora ended up with Catra. What I mean is: I would rather have Adora end up without a partner, than end up with Catra.

Irrespective of whether you agree or disagree with my points on Catradora, these will be final points:

Abuse can happen anywhere at any time.

Abuse can happen in any relationship, including lesbian relationships.

Abuse is unacceptable.

Make sure YOU can recognize signs of emotional and physical abuse. 

Make sure YOU know that it’s okay to leave an abusive relationship.

Make sure YOU can trust and depend on your PARTNER/FRIEND. 

Make sure YOUR PARTNER/FRIEND knows they can trust and depend on YOU. 

Make sure YOU are being treated with kindness and support in your relationships. 

Make sure YOU are treating YOUR PARTNER/FRIEND with kindness and support. 

Make sure YOU are in healthy relationships and friendships.

In conclusion, EVERYONE deserves to be treated with love and respect.

Thank you.

[sorcerersofnyc]

The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 3/9

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home he once shared with you.

You reunite and he reflects upon his relationship with you (his wife's friend and his friend's wife) and your journey from being people with mutual friends to partners.

Chapter 3: Sam and Bucky try to understand your relationship with Zemo. It isn't complicated, but he remembers a time when things very much were.

Angst, various mentions of death & mourning, Zemo's wife's name is Heike because of comics.  The reader likes waffles (this is a non-negotiable fact)

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won't say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

First Chapter | Previous

***

A fresh breeze filters in through an open window, swaying the room as Helmut’s words take root.

“Partner?” Sam leans forward in curiosity. “You mean like a life partner or a partner in crime?”

“Yes,” is Helmut’s unhelpful reply. He sends you a conspiratorial smile, one you return with a roll of the eyes.

“Helmut and I are engaged in a… civil partnership,” you explain, “for legal reasons.”

“Amongst other things,” he adds.

“Yes, amongst…other things.” A deep honey-like scent wafts into the room from the kitchen as you share a fleeting glance, a private moment despite the scrutiny of James and Sam. You must have put on a pot of tea.

“That should have been in the reports,” James narrows his eyes and examines the room carefully. “Why doesn’t anyone know about you?” Despite his position on the other wall, he angles his body toward Sam, ready to defend against any traps you might spring.

"Well…" you tilt your head in contemplation, "there was a significant delay in the processing of our paperwork. Nothing was documented until after Helmut’s prosecution."

"How much of a delay are we talking about here?" Sam asks, turning his assessing gaze toward Helmut as if to ask, ‘did you do something?’

"Around—what was it, Helmut? A year and a half?"

"18 months," he agrees. “Our paperwork seemed to have gotten misplaced. It's so difficult to find reliable lawyers these days.”

Sam didn’t seem to believe him.

"I'm his spouse on all official records,” You cut in before either of the two to speak, “but I'm sure you understand why privacy is important to me.” When he testified to his crimes, he made it clear that he had no accomplices and the investigation proved the same. The lawyer ‘misplaced’ the paperwork long enough for public interest in his case to die.

You didn’t need that sort of public scrutiny.

Sam seems to agree.

“We would never compromise your safety,” He assures you. He has his own family, people he loves with targets on their backs. He thinks of them as he addresses you.

The teapot whistles in the background.

“Thank you.” You smile and excuse yourself from the room. “The tea is ready.”

Helmut wants to pull you back to him, but he settles on meeting your gaze as you make a hasty retreat through the archway.

You’re gone all but a few seconds before James begins to speak.

"OK Zemo,” He says, his voice low and threatening, “it's about time you tell us what's going on—your partner? Really?"

"I’ve no reason to lie, James—but perhaps you’re not used to honesty,"

“Not from you," James lurches forward like a beast seeking prey. He glares down at Helmut, a mere arm's length from Helmut’s chair.

Helmut doesn't doubt Jame's violent intent, but he isn't particularly afraid. He settles back in his chair, moves his hands along the length of the arms, and brushes a thumb across the cool metal of the gun strapped beneath.

"Simmer down, Buck.” Sam lifts his hands. “This is weird enough as it is.”

James hesitates but relaxes his defensive stance.

"She doesn't seem to like me and Sam," James continues, reclaiming his position on the wall. “I don’t plan on waking up with a knife in my back.”

“She would never do such a thing, it's far too messy." Unbothered by their altercation, Helmut rises from his chair. He moves toward the bay window and liberates a copy of  Arsène Lupin, gentleman-cambrioleur , from the floating shelf.

Before James can say whatever it is he wants to say,  Sam intervenes once again.

“What I think he means is, 'how do we know we can trust her?'”

"You won't come to harm under her care, you have my word."

His word.

James scoffs at the mere suggestion. Trust isn't something that exists between them and it never would.

But the air is so thick with tension and he can hear the unspoken words that linger in the air: ‘What about your late wife?’

So Helmut flips through the book absentmindedly, stopping at a dog-eared page.

“My companion,” he begins to explain, “she was my wife's dearest friend.” He glances up from the pages of the book to meet Sam’s gaze. “She lost her husband when your friends made Sokovia into a battleground so I found it prudent to ensure her wellbeing.”

They're quiet—finally—and Helmut finds their discomfort pleasing.

Turning his attention back to the book, he reads a line you underlined.

'Quel dommage que je ne sois pas un honnête homme!' What a pity that I am not an honest man!'

“Would you like some honeybush tea?” Your voice cuts through the silence a few moments later. You stop at the threshold and gaze back warily gaze wary.

“I expected Helmut to be alone, but I have other drinks too.”

“The Tea is fine, thank you.” He sets down your beloved book and walks across the room to meet you. Ever so gently, Helmut coaxes the tray from your hand and sets it down on the center table.

“I made lunch as well... si comes ese tipo de cosas .” You mutter, leaving the room once again.

Helmut pours himself a cup before gesturing toward the tray.

"Please, you are guests; have a seat, enjoy some tea." Grabbing the book with one hand, Helmut returns to his favorite chair.

James doesn’t move an inch but Sam takes the seat near the window. His body sinks into the fabric with a sigh.

“Hopefully Torres finds Donya soon. I don’t want to impose for too long.”

“She really is a lovely hostess.” Helmut takes a seat and returns the book. “I intend to enjoy her hospitality while I can.”

***

At first, living with you was easy; Helmut stayed out of your way, he spent his time conducting research and it was quiet.

But the walls were thin and noise echoed through the open vents—He could hear you crying late at night.

He wanted to help, but he had no temporary comforts to offer. The only thing he had was his anger and his plan. You’d rest easier with the Avengers buried in the ash heap, he told himself. That day, when you hugged him, he felt as though you encroached on something, something that would break if he failed to tread lightly.

When you looked as though you wanted to talk or share a fond memory, he mentioned something about the old-fashioned décor and suggested that you change something. He bought you books from the shops he passed on the streets, jars of pigment, and blocks of clay.

He observed you, found what you liked, and got them for you.

“Thank you,” you’d say with a smile, and that was more than enough for him.

He didn’t expect you to return the favor.

But then you’d do things like make him breakfast (always with black coffee and a side of bacon, his favorite.) You’d buy pillows in the same specific shade of burgundy to accent the walls. You’d leave the paper on the kitchen island and kept a jar of honey with the tea.

And he hated you for that, for doing the things Heike would do, for sharing her habits, humor, and sensibilities.

‘Good morning, Helmut,' you would say in the morning, 'Would you like to visit the market with me?’ or, ‘Helmut, you can’t survive off coffee, aren't you hungry?’

He’d refuse you every time.

It was difficult, disappointing you,  but the thought of enjoying a pleasant breakfast, or taking a stroll through the market hurt even more.

He could still feel their bodies buried beneath his feet.

So he opted for uncomfortable silence, and unsteady peace, the ghosts of your loved ones a wall between you.

*

Weeks went by and he continued his research. It took a while, but Helmut could see the steps of a plan unfolding in his mind.

He wouldn’t be the one to send the Avengers to their graves, he’d make them kill each other—and for that, he would need the Winter Soldier, James Buchanan Barnes.

So one day, after reading and rereading the S.H.I.E.L.D.  files he managed to decrypt, he told you he was going on a trip.

“There’s business that I need to attend to.”

“You’re leaving?” You looked up from the clay you were molding. It hadn’t yet taken form, just a sad lump of grey. “For how long?”

“Not long.” He promised, “I’ll be back soon.”

But he returned two weeks later.

Exhausted, Helmut had just taken off his shoes when you walked upstairs to meet him, red power on your hands.

“Helmut! Where were you?” You demanded before you took notice of your tone, the accusation present in your voice. You amended your words quickly.  “I was worried... I missed you while you were gone.”

“My apologies,” was his unsatisfactory reply, his back still turned.

When he finally turned to look in your direction, you wore a troubled look upon your face, and the look reminded him of Heike.

It was the worry of a soldier's wife, of someone waiting by the door to greet an unknown future.

“I’m sorry,” he offered, genuinely this time, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

For a moment that you would reject him. He was certain you considered doing just that, but when you didn’t move or knock away his touch, a strange sense of relief filled him.

You sighed.

"When you've gotten settled, come down for dinner.” It was an order, he realized, not a request.

"Of course." An amused smile tugged at his cheeks.

"Where did you go?" You asked, lingering by the door as he set down his bag. He wasn’t dressed for business in his drab gray jacket and worn shoes.

“I visited an auction house out east."

“An auction house?” You tilted your head and assessed his clothing again. “To bid?”

“Not exactly."

Not at all, really.

He tracked down information about an auction where fanatics were gathered to bid on HYDRA paraphernalia. He hoped to find the book that once belonged to the Winter Soldier's handler, but it wasn't didn’t exist amongst the garbage he found there.

The trip hadn't been a complete waste, however. He managed to rid the world of a few dozen agents and others who would support their cause—but he wouldn’t tell you that.

"What I hoped to find wasn't there.” He settled on saying.

“It took you weeks to do that?”

“I needed to visit Berlin as well. My family collected many cars over the generations. I’ll take you to see them one day if you like.”

Helmut had no plans to get you involved in his plan to end the Avengers,  he couldn't. But he remained true to his word and joined you for dinner that night.

He helped you set the table and you ate paprikash (which, he assumed, you made for his benefit more than your own.)

"Ozenik suggested I make it," you explained. "It was never my favorite but it was fun to make."

"You did a good job."

"Thanks...I thought was time to try something new."

He agreed.

You ate dinner together the next night too, and the next, and the next night after that.

Helmut grew to enjoy the time you spent together—it was a pleasant change of pace.

Even so, he had his ‘business’ to attend to. He would still have to leave.

Sometimes he would go for hours, sometimes he’d be gone for days, and sometimes entire weeks would go by and Helmut wouldn't call or even text you.

And you were frustrated.

Once he returned home to find you painting angry red lines across what might have been an abstract swirl of blue and gray.

One evening discovered you rearranged the dining room completely.

Then one day, during dinner, you attempted to bridge the gap between you once again.

"I received a message last night," You began, "a reminder that I purchased tickets to see a play last year.” It was summer, but the season had been unusually rainy, confining you inside for most of the week. “I’d have to travel to see it but it might be fun. Would you like to see it with me?”

"I'll be gone again soon," Helmut told you. “My apologies.”

You frowned.

"I haven't even told you the date. How do you know you’ll be busy?"

"I have plenty of work to keep me busy through the end of the year." His reply hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. He didn’t even bother to look up as he continued. "If you need to travel, I'll speak with Oeznik about arranging that for you."

You looked down at your plate, sighed, and set down your utensils.

"It's fine." You told him, but it wasn't. You were angry at his rejection, at his nonchalance.

"You know...you don't need to force yourself to be here with me, Helmut." You stared directly across the table at him, meeting his gaze. "We don't have to stay together if you don't want to. I have my benefits from the veterans association now so...if there's somewhere else you'd rather be-"

"There isn't." Helmut looked at you, his eyes dark piercing. "How could you think that?"

“How could I not when I never know if you're going off to the market or leaving for weeks?” A dangerous edge crept into your voice and you didn’t bother to amend it. “What sort of 'business' are you conducting? You won't even tell me."

"You don't need to worry," he tried to assure you, but his weak appeal only seemed to make you angrier.

And that anger, your anger,  frustrated him to no end.

Who were you to question what he did with his time?

Heike always understood when he was gone for longer than expected. When he returned, she greeted him with joy and relief, not accusation and scorn.

But you...he didn't know what he expected from you.

You weren’t his wife, you weren’t involved romantically. You weren't even friends, not really.

So really, what tethered him to this place?

What he planned to do was dangerous; he might not even survive. He fulfilled his promise to see after your well-being, did everything he said he'd do, and yet...and yet…

You sighed, huffed really, and gathered your plates quickly.

“I’m trying, I’m really trying but I’m tired, Helmut,” you told him. “You go and move us to this...this ritzy tourist city and what am I supposed to do? Find friends with similar life experiences? I can’t even sleep through the night and you...you just...” You take a breath as you turn away, leaving with your half-eaten plate.

“I don't... I don't fit in here.” You confess resignation carried in your voice. “I don’t think you understand that and I don’t think we’re good for each other either. ” You decided. “We’re too different. I appreciate you trying to help me, I do, but… but maybe I should leave.”

***

Thanks for reading! You’ve come so far and soon you will be rewarded. Next chapter we’ll see the steps Helmut took to amend your relationship. And in the present timeline, we get to see something super cute (something that involves hand-holding, perhaps?)

Feedback is very much appreciated. Please tell me what you think!

Tag list: 

@actuallyanita

@fillechatoyante

@viviace 

@buckyandlokicanhaveme

Previous | Next

[cinematicnomad]

Now this is going to sound hella stupid, but pretty much only Buck being with Eddie if he gets shot is giving me a lot of hope, if not for Buddie then at least for an EddieAna breakup. These kind of near death experience / major injury scenes are usually used to emphasise a certain bond between characters, (more often than not romantic) so if they actually show us Buck’s reaction... I’m not saying that that would be a confirmation, because platonic love is a thing, and Eddie and Buck are canonically really really important to each other without there being a romantic relationship between them. I’m just saying that if they wanted to have Ana be the real deal for Eddie, they could have found a way for her to be involved in that scene. (Or write a different one, so it would make sense for her to be there) The could have have found a way to at least not emphasise, time and time again, the importance of the one guy people would rather see with Eddie.

i definitely agree! i don’t think eddieana is meant to be eddie’s endgame, especially given how her character has been treated since she was introduced. it seems wildly suspect to me that at every turn that the show introduces even the bare minimum of a story featuring ana, they then spend the rest of the episode bolstering up eddie and christopher’s connection to buck. 

like, she’s introduced in 3.12 and after the skateboarding incident her advice is basically that chris can’t skateboard and he should find other things he’s good at. which is then directly contradicted by buck talking about jim abbott and then helping eddie build an accessible skateboard for chris. literally that episode narratively is like “lol, ana is flat out wrong” 

and then she’s brought back in 3.15 for that tiny little cameo during christopher’s show and tell...but it comes after you have buck literally digging in the mud with his bare hands to save eddie, the 118 treating buck like the loved one of a victim, and buck being heavily featured in eddie’s family montage while he fights for his life. it’s not comparable!! 

she’s re-introduced in 4.06 right after...buck talks about becoming buck 3.0 and wanting to move forward with his life? and eddie asking for buck’s advice on ana? and buck outing eddie re:ana to the whole crew? and buck telling eddie about how the ~*universe*~ is screaming at him? and buck’s look back when eddie doesn’t join them for breakfast? this episode is probably the only one that gave ana any serious amount of attention, but i still find it noteworthy that buck and eddie got so much attention together

she comes back for the dreaded 4.08 but...what do we get? a cringe-y math date where she calls chris a ~*sensitive*~ boy and talks about how she understands that no one’s been in christopher’s life since shannon died...which then leads into a scene where we see buck and eddie being totally domestic with each other and talking about christopher’s bedtime routine. and THEN after eddie tells chris, you’ve got ana immediately suggesting they end their relationship and chris running to buck for comfort who promises that chris will always have him. like this episode just underlines how central buck is to the diaz family in contrast to ana. 

she’s brought back again for that 10-second scene at the end of 4.10 but??? literally who cares when we got a whole ass scene of eddie AND buck sharing their opinions. 

now she’s coming back for the last 2 episodes and we know that, once again, buck and eddie are going to be getting some major scenes together no matter what happens with ana. and i definitely find it interesting that you’ve got ana in the promo saying something along the lines of “i think there’s something wrong with this woman” (i’m like 95% sure they’re talking about the mom from the promo) but eddie clearly goes to BUCK about his concerns. i’m kind of curious if maybe they’ll bring back ana’s tendency to want to bail on things that are hard (does it count as a tendency? it’s happened twice re:the skateboard incident and suggesting they take a break) and maybe she’ll try to talk eddie out of going back to the mom and kid. clearly he does, and with buck who’s off duty. i’m just so curious! as to how that happens??? 

(i’m also hoping??? that the carla dinner scene will introduce SOME conflict into the eddieana plot bc jesus, it has been so boring. again, i really think they know the breakup storyline they wanted to tell and that these last 2 eps are what they’ve been waiting for, so i’m hoping things finally get interesting. i’m also not sure what to make of that bts photo of ana w/ abuela + carla + eddie + chris with the implication that buck (and possibly taylor? but i REALLY don’t trust that) is in the scene too. if it’s not in 4.13 my only assumption is that? maybe it’s a scene of eddie coming home from the hospital and they’ll pull a 3.18 parallel with eddieana breaking up upon the return home the same way buckalli did in s3). 

[aspoonofsugar]

Selflessness and Selfishness

Hello anons!

These asks can be answered together.

First of all, I will say that my feelings about the chapter changed with every different translation I received, so I think some things are purposelly left ambiguous and not completely solved because they will be later on.

As @hamliet mentioned in her meta, I think that the chapter is contrasting two different POV:

On one hand there is Hange and the alliance’s POV. They are not fighting for their loved ones. The SC have betrayed former comrades and their hometown to save their enemies. In this chapter, the Warriors too are asked to give up on their hometown and their families, so that they have a chance to save the rest of the world. They are asked to make a very selfless choice, they will be no rewarded for.

On the other hand there is Eren, who claims he is ready to destroy the rest of the world, so that his loved ones can live happily in the lie he will create afterwards, thanks to the Founding Titan powers. He is extremely selfish not only in what he is trying to obtain (destroying the world to let few people live), but also in the way he is pursuing it. As a matter of fact Eren is completely ignoring his loved ones’ feelings and pov.

At the same time, this panel:

Can be contrasted with these other two panels:

I pointed it out here as well:

Eren is so sure of his own future that he has stopped searching for an alternative. He can push forward because he only sees one thing. Mikasa and Armin have been more passive and reactive to the point that they almost stopped moving, but they are still looking for chances and for alternatives. Their vision is struggling against a deterministic perspective and this in itself adds to the idea that their path is different from Eren’s.

The panels above make it explicit. Eren is obsessed with moving forward and sees one single path. This makes him stronger in a sense, but also limited and dangerous.

In short, I think these two thematic conflicts will be solved by the end of the manga. Was there really only one way? Is it right to sacrifice one’s loved ones for the sake of the world? These questions tie to the central theme of freedom. How can humans be free if the future is set in stone? How can they be free if their loved ones are lost to a cycle of hatred? What does it even mean to be free?

In this meta I will mostly focus on the first conflict I underlined because I think it is the main one highlighted by the chapter itself. When it comes to the dychotomy selfishness/selflessness, Historia’s character is a key-one because she plays with these two concepts.

When she first appeared in the manga, Historia projected a selfless persona, but deep down her motivations were selfish. She was looking for a heroic way to die and Ymir pointed out to her how wrong that was. Throughout the Uprising, we explored Historia’s trauma and the reason behind her actions is explained. Historia was abused as a child and was taught she had to be a “good girl”, so that others would love her.

The Uprising was about her...well...”rebelling” against this mindset and fighting back. It was about her becoming a “bad girl” in the sense that she would have acted for herself. In this way, the dychotomy selfishness/selflessness, which had been present in Historia’s character since the beginning found a beautiful synthesis. In the end, Historia’s way of living for others was an unhealthy kind of “selflessness” rooted in a weak sense of self. Her willingness to live for herself was instead a positive kind of “selfishness”, which let her help others in a more genuine and effective way. This is because, all in all, people are a mixture of selfish and selfless traits and must find an equilibrium between them.

What about this chapter? In this chapter we see the lines of Historia’s new found equilibrium becoming muddled.

First of all there is this:

This line is a reference to when Levi told Historia to either run or fight. Here, Historia says there is no need to do either because she has accepted her role of queen and has chosen to do what she can to protect the island.

In short, it is as if Historia is going through the Uprising again, but in a reverse way. At the beginning of the Uprising, she had no idea what to do and by the end she chose to make the role of queen hers. It is not a role she wanted, but she still managed to make use of it to realize what she wanted. In short, she used what life gave her as better as she could.

At the beginning of the conversation with Eren, she is still trying to do the same. She sees no other option to save the Island than to go along with the MP’s plan. However, Eren challenges her and puts Historia’s whole perspective of herself into a crisis:

As people noticed, these two phrases are references to past moments. Historia is referencing Ymir when she told her to live with pride. Eren is referencing Historia herself, when she announced she would become a “bad girl”, who saves her friends.

In the cave scene, these two lines went together. This is because Historia becoming a “bad girl” is her way to fulfill Ymir’s request. However, in this chapter these two lines are juxtaposed. On one hand Historia says that she won’t be able to live pridefully if she does not stop Eren. On the other hand Eren asks her to be a “bad girl” and to save him once more.

In order to live her life with pride, Historia should stop Eren and save the world, even if this means she will go through a high personal sacrifice (losing a friend and becoming a titan herself). However, Eren insists she should just be a “bad girl” and live her own life as if the genocide of the world did not happen.

Who is right?

As one can see, the resolution Historia gained after the Uprising is being challenged. She can’t protect the world without sacrificing herself and she can’t protect herself without sacrificing the world. At the same time, she is asked to choose between a personal connection (Eren) and the world.

The choice Historia seems to make is to help Eren. Just judging by the chapter, she seems to be regressing and to give up on the idea of living with pride. She accepts the role of “bad girl” instead.

This ties with what has been an ongoing motif with Eren after the time-skip. Eren seems to take and twists ideas and concepts, which have been with the readers since the beginning.

Things like “freedom”, “moving forward”, “saving one’s friends” used to be inspiring, but right now they have been emptied of all their meaning. They have become slogans Eren  keeps repeating to himself and to others. In a sense, Eren keeps facing the world with the same two or three ideas he has had since he was a child. However, the world has become too complex to be experienced with those same mechanisms. Still, Eren refuses to change his mindset. Because of this, what made those ideals inspiring in the beginning is absent from what Eren does and says now.

In this chapter, Eren is doing the same with what Historia said in the cave. The point of Historia’s arc was not to become a selfish girl, who would sacrifice others for her sake. The point of her arc was to live not for others, but for herself. She had to become proud of who she was. This is why since the cave she has been trying to live pridefully. However, here Eren is using the words, which were symbolic of her change, to ask her to fulfill another role for him. Eren wants Historia to be a “bad girl”, but this is not qualitatively different from being a “good girl”. It is just a different adjective and a different role, but it is still a role. It is still not what Historia wants. Historia does not want a genocide, but she seems to be giving in to the fear for her future and to the feelings Eren’s words provoke in her.

Historia and Eren are the two protagonists of the Uprising and they are the two people, who changed Paradis. However, right now they are discussing of bringing Paradis back to how it was. Eren, who used to despise people accepting their peaceful lives, wants to reduce his friends to “cattle” without will of their own. Historia, who wanted to stop with the lies of the First King, seems to be supporting a plan, which will end with a huge lie.

The world envisioned by Eren is the same world we started with. It is a world where humanity is almost gone and only the people of a tiny island have survived. Eren rebelled against that world, but when all is said and done he is going back to it because he is not able to accept a more complex world than that. Ironically, he is not moving forward, but he is going back.

What does Mikasa have to do with all of this?

It seems that in Eren’s mind, his feelings for Mikasa are connected with Historia’s line. The nature of the connection is still unknown. We can’t infer it from the chapter alone because we still lack a part of the conversation. Why does Historia immediately think of having a baby to escape the MP? There were tons of other ways to succeed at it. And why does Eren connect that moment with Zeke’s question?

We still don’t know.

What is sure is that both Historia and Mikasa are important for Eren. What is more, they will probably end up representing different things, when it comes to his character.

After all, they have been associated before in Eren’s mind:

However, it is still too soon to properly explore this juxtaposition. As for now, if what the chapter shows is to be taken at face value, Mikasa and Historia’s reaction to Eren seems to be opposite.

Historia seems to be choosing her connection with Eren (the moment in the cave) over everything else, even her promise to Ymir.

Mikasa is instead going through an arc, which will probably lead her to kill Eren in the end:

In a sense, this is the same conflict of the serum bowl through a different lens. Once again characters are asked to choose between their loved ones and the bigger picture.

There might still be more to Historia’s choice than what was shown this chapter, so I won’t comment on her anymore. I will say instead that the difference between Mikasa and Eren, which emerged in the serum bowl is showing itself fully in this arc.

Mikasa accepted the inevitability of loss and also that there is more than her and her loved ones. Eren did not. What is more, Eren also missed Levi’s teaching in that situation. It is true that Levi chose Erwin over the world, but he still did it selflessly because he understood what Erwin wanted and gave it to him, even if that was not what Levi personally wished.

Not only is Eren choosing his loved ones over the world, but he is also choosing his own personal version of the world over his loved ones. Mikasa is instead willing to stop Eren from doing what is wrong. Moreover she is willing to stop him precisely because she loves him:

Similarly, she is slowly breaking free of the ideal image she used to have about Eren. She is coming to a full understanding of who Eren is as a person. Despite this, she still cares about him.

When it comes to this, it is interesting that Eren is so conflicted about Mikasa’s feelings for him. As a matter of fact, it is as if Eren is not fully able to grasp how and why Mikasa cares so much for him.

This is why he asks her about it in Marley and later on questions Zeke about the Ackermans. A contrived genetical explanation seems to him more plausible than Mikasa simply being in love with him.

At the same time, Eren is trying to refuse these feelings and to force Mikasa to hate him. He deeply hurts her in chapter 112 and apparently even tells Luise to destroy Mikasa’s scarf.

This has probably to do with the fact that Mikasa reminds Eren of a part of himself he is trying to repress:

Mikasa loves the kind side of Eren, but this is a side Eren refuses because it is also his most vulnerable one.

These are my main thoughts on the chapter and they answer many questions by the anons. To some of the more specific asks, I will give short and individual answers.

[jordan-peterson101]

49:59 Carl Jung makes it clear he was interested in the Bears of enlightenment why is everybody in Løytnant if it’s a matter of just taking a glorious route and following your bliss that sounds pretty easy what is an everybody in Latin. In order to transform your personality you gotta be discipline integrate that part of you that’s terrible and capable of breaking rules and make a part of you. Lloyd ask Rosie and Yugoslavia and atrocities didn’t have imagination for the type of evil is that signaling a virtue question or stating your cowardice because you’re gonna be a ambassador for in affairs you have to have that imagination otherwise somebody else can beat you. Harry Potter stories Harry’s touch by evils he has a soul fragment Of evil in bedded within him that’s as black as anything that can be that’s how you can talk to snakes without that He wouldn’t be able to have any victory. Unless you can think as an evil person can think you’re defenseless against. Because they’ll go places that you can imagine and then they win. Was Harry Potter dangerous? Was Hermoine dangerous?

56.00 act it out and understand it. If you are around people who are dangerous and discipline you watch your step!

59:44 Discipline and Kids psych - Don’t do anything that makes your child dislike you!

1:06:17 out of military a civilian what’s your next mission! Are you taking responsibility for anything! It’s part of nialism - no real order alleviates you from responsibility.

Neurological systems that underline experience positive and negative emotions that interact.

Hungry so you eat

Moving forward to something worthwhile! It’s something that doesn’t go away. Inventive reward with dopamine if you don’t have enough meaning in your life your more prone to addiction. The purposeless rat more prone to addiction. The more important thing goal you pick that is life affirming… purpose is anelgizic, 1:09:52 also suppresses anxiety. Purpose motivates and focuses you… to remember and pay attention! It quails fear!

Purpose of Philosophical and religious training …. What the hell are you doing in the world?

Nialism - there are lots of suffering! That’s not good! You should do something about that!

Example! Im going to be honest with myself… ask self what am I doing that is hurting others. Is there something ? Your going to get ideas that aren’t self affirming…. Is there something I can do something about? But you don’t want to do it… you won’t get a reward but you keep doing it!

You don’t pray in public what can I do to get rid of something now! How to improve your character! Cain story keep screwing up that will make you vengeful!

So take responsibility! You can do more about it than you think!

Solzhenitsyn - Moral transformation in the camps at Gulag Archipelago. he went over life with fine tooth comb to rectify to atone! ATONE!!

(ATONE WHEN YOU HEAL THE TRAUMA, WHATS YOUR PURPOSE)

There are no atheists in fox holes!

Harry Potter!

1:18:11 PTSD we do malevolent (I’ll will) things we are ashamed at doing! There is a dark part of me that I don’t really like too much… JOCKO - you have to embrace there is darkness in the world and in you! Not try and disguise it not try and make it seem like it’s not there.

Extreme Trauma =>followed by long term resentment => ill will

1:18:48 … the capacity for evil isn’t just you it’s part of humanity! Maybe it’s part of the structure of the cosmos and you happen to stumble over it naively and so it hurt you. Eggypian story of Horus fight with evil uncle Seth tyrant killing gor the kingdom they are gods. Horus looses an eye but gains INSIGHT knows the nature of evil... but he pays a big price for it! If that’s the case for a god how much more is it the case for a man to be damaged …it’s like absolutely right it’s no joke to encounter malevolence.

We all have darkness! We actually have the ability to hurt somebody it’s not all those excuses that people come up with that he was only going theater they were just in a bad mood it wasn’t because of the way they were raised.

He was not only going to hurt her but he was going to enjoy it and if you don’t understand that part the part of you that’s capable of that then well you’re dangerously! Dangerously naïve and dangerous as well because you’re not knowing what you’re capable of!

(SUSAN- I don’t think I was capable of doing what I did but I did them! ) (I want to talk through the wisdom Jordan Peterson is presenting! With Jocko! I am capable of malevolence! We all are! We need to know that and stay vigalent! We are dangerous human beings! I may have a moral compass but I have to accept my history of trauma and flashbacks and seek treatment to modulate the fractured ego State ! SEPARATION WAS A WAKE UP CALL!!! Created HUMILIATION-SCARLET LETTER andTRAUMATIZED FIGHT FLIGHT FREEZE! Followed by inconjunction with HORMONES W/SLM IN MALL SHAMEFUL EMBARRASSED. CR Sponsor!

APOSTLE PAUL- I do the things I don’t want to do…KING DAVID- married the widowed Bathsheba, but their first child died as punishment from God for David's adultery and murder of Uriah. David repented of his sins, and Bathsheba later gave birth to Solomon.

How to be successful. Breaking the loop. 1:28:53 John Paige two system moving toward a goal … compulsion ( acting on force) vs voluntarily (acting on self more efficient) you want your interest to be in line with the interest of the other person so you don’t have to worry about the integrity of the deal it’s like everybody has reasons to keep it thriving!

1:29:54 CAPITALISM The idea of somehow that capitalism is predicated on the Tierney of the people at the pinnacle that happens when it gets corrupt but it doesn’t happen at all when it’s working properly because deals that are based on mutual self interest and group interest simultaneously have to be enforced usually with lawyers and then you’re you’re done and that’s actually incredible. 

WHAT IS MY PURPOSE 1:33:24,you want people who are among at thing they think are valuable. Working there are no matter what it is that they’re doing and you know you know often jobs are repetitive and doll and difficult and challenging and all of that or you wouldn’t be paid to do them right they’re not all fun and games but if you can see that the less intrinsically interesting things that you’re required to do are related and some directly intelligible way to goals that you regard as valuable than that tags those activities with those with this dopaminergic kick so you need this hierarchy of values. Just like here’s what I’m doing with my life here’s my job here’s why my job is important to me or maybe it isn’t and then you have to quit and go find a new job but that’s because you might discover that too. 

2022 GOAL SETTING

1:34:52 Our life is a story a goal and a beginning point! I had students write an autobiography! Breaking life into epochs and describing each positive and negative epoch. What they might do to reduce the ball is a possibility of the negative in the future and to capitalize on the positive which is the purpose of memory by the way and then also to write a plan for the future OK first of all you have to put yourself in the right mindset you’re trying to you’re trying to take care of yourself like you would care for someone that you care for now. That’s a hard mindset to get in to because people like their pets better than they then they like themselves often. And so you have to have a vision vision would be like 3 to 5 years down the road if your friendship networks were configured properly what would that look like if you were pursuing the career that would be appropriate for you and sustaining for you what would that look like how are you going to educate yourself how are you how are you and how are you gonna take care of yourself mentally and physically what do you want for an intimate relationship and how are you going to handle Temptations like alcohol and drug abuse because they take people down pretty frequently so you have to do is think about OK what could that be like if you had what you needed not some wild fantasy but realistic and what you needed. Now right for 3 to 5 minutes and what your life will look like 3 to 5 years down the road if all of this came together and then not do the opposite so imagine all your weaknesses and all of the ways you can go down the wrong path and then imagine that gets the upper hand.

So writing this out this gets you focused on the things you do want and not on the things you don’t want! So you can run away from the things you don’t want and you can run towards the things you do want that gets your anxiety behind you instead of in front of you maybe you’re going to go do something difficult and you’re afraid of it and then you think well if I don’t do this and I’m gonna end up there it’s like oh OK that’s so terrible… And this little terrible is nothing so then in the next part of the exercise you turn that into an implementable plan you know and you right about why your life would be better and why your family life would be better and why your communities life would be better. 

1:51:11 you have to take yourself seriously and you have to know that you’re a monster and and that you’re capable of terrible things and that it’s that you have a responsibility to understand that to incorporate it to constrain it into discipline it and then to work for the alleviation of suffering and the constraint of malevolence and if you understand that then you can turn your life into a noble enterprise and then you will have some self-respect which beats the hell out of self-esteem in my estimation so and I don’t think that a difficult message for people to understand and I think they know that at a fundamental level and I think at the moment they’re starving to death for it.

LOVE AND TRUTH 1:52:37 cultural Christian ethics substructure of western ethics there’s truth and there’s love they have a date tent nickel meaning and if you know that then it kind of reignites their power I love his decision that being is worthwhile and should and that you should struggle to support and improve it and that’s not a trivial thing. Because being is rife with suffering and you know everyone dies everyone gets sick like it’s brutal and it’s brutal as easy to turn against it and so the idea that you’re going to volunteer. Except responsibility for that assume that it’s good and or act as if it’s good and try to improve it is no trivial matter and that means you have to scour out the resentment and the arrogance and the deceit and the primarily by life is very hard obviously but we’re not doing everything we could to make it better and we’re off to doing things to make it worse so so even if it is suffering which is true we have no idea how much we could ameliorate that if we all put our efforts into it and so that’s a genuine question it’s like yeah there’s reasons to shake your fist and curse God I mean everyone ends up in a situation like that someone they love gets a terrible illness and disintegrates before their eyes and you know maybe they’re a really good person and they’ve done nothing you would think of deserve that and you and that terrible fate is visible upon them it’s very difficult not to get cynical and angry under such circumstances win but then well that’s takes you down a very bad road if you do that but it doesn’t it doesn’t change the fundamental question it’s like if your life is and everything you do you think it should be you have to ask yourself if you’re doing everything you can because you actually don’t get to make a judgment about the structure of being until you do everything you can and I would say that’s love essentially that’s the decision and then truth is the best strategy with regards to retained that attainment and how could it be otherwise like if you’re going to contend with reality you bloody well better know what it is you know when you know it’s like the truth the truth of existence is brutal and bitter and so to be able to face that and to admit to the things that you are into to communicate them with with other people especially in an intimate relationship it’s like no that’s no cowardly morality that’s not the morality of a coward is quite the contrary Nietzsche said that you can measure the spirit of a man by determining how much truth he could tolerate it’s like that’s right thing way of thinking about truth.

JOB OPPORTUNITIES 1:58:03 Carl Jung said people modern people don’t see God because they don’t look low enough I really like that idea if you’re in a little place the opportunity that presents itself to you is going to be low and it’s going to be very tempting to you because you’re arrogant resentful to say well that’s not good enough for me and it’s like well do you have an alternative if you don’t have an alternative than an inch up his an inch up and it’s the right trajectory you know and so that’s humility that’s like you’re low you take what you take was given to you and you see it if you can make it work and that thing is that works way faster than people think.

[scripttorture]

Any tips for handling a character who believes the stereotype that "no scars = no harm" when it comes to prison abuse, and is convinced b/c of this that they have no right to be upset about their own abuse cause their friends got physically smacked around, and they "only" got tazed/ humiliated by the guards? (They were in solitary too but they don't think that counts.) Any way to show that their treatment, while different, was just as harmful, when they themselves don't think that it could be?

Yes, I think I can help you out. :)

 I think the key to this one is giving all of these characters space in the story and signalling to readers that this particular character is an unreliable narrator.

 It’s easier to establish a narrator/character as unreliable if you’re writing using a third person perspective or switch perspectives throughout the story. However it is perfectly possible to do it from a first person perspective as well.

 I’ll come back to that in a moment but I’m going to start with things that I think will help no matter your writing style.

 The masterpost on common symptoms of torture is over here, and the post on memory problems specifically is over here.

 If you haven’t already take a look at both posts. There’s a lot of variation in survivors: we know the possible psychological symptoms but survivors don’t typically experience all possible symptoms. We don’t know why some individuals experience specific symptoms and others get different symptoms. Which means that as writers there’s a lot of scope to choose the symptoms your characters experience.

 You have multiple survivors here. The easy first step is to make sure they all have similar numbers of symptoms at similar levels of severity.

 I think it’s also worth having some overlap in what the characters experience.

 I don’t know how many character’s you’re planning to have but let’s say there are four, the one who survives clean torture and three others.

 Let’s say that the symptoms you pick out for the character who survived clean torture are: depression, panic attacks, learning difficulties and intrusive memories. (I picked these at random.)

 Showing variety in survivors is a good thing, so I wouldn’t suggest giving any of the friends exactly the same symptom pattern. But there’s no reason why one of them shouldn’t also have depression. The second could have panic attacks. The third might have learning difficulties and intrusive memories.

 This gives you a way to encourage the readers to question this character’s interpretation of events. They’re saying they didn’t suffer ‘enough’, however the reader should be able to see that each of their friends is going through something similar.

 If you’re writing from a third person perspective, or switching perspectives between the characters you can describe these symptoms in the same way for every character. Literally verbatim the same. Repeating it in this way should reinforce to the readers that this is the same thing and it’s just as serious for every character.

 No matter what the characters themselves think.

 Writing from first person perspective make things a little trickier but you still have a couple of options.

 The most straight forward is to have other characters call them out. It doesn’t have to be the other survivors doing this (though it can be). Doctors, friends, family, any character who has the opportunity to see all of these survivors afterwards and witness their symptoms can call bullshit on any one of them trying to downplay their own symptoms.

 Another option is having the friends talk, perhaps because the character who is downplaying their own symptoms is trying to be supportive. Having them sit there while their friend describes something that’s horribly familiar and letting them slowly come to that realisation on their own is a possibility. It would take a lot more time narratively.

 If these characters have access to medical treatment or mental health services afterwards that’s another good way to bring this up.

 People/characters can dismiss the opinions of experts. But this does very clearly tell the reader that clean torture is just as serious.

 You can also use these similar symptom patterns without any overt conversations on the subject. Describing characters with similar symptoms showing similar behaviours and coming up with similar coping strategies can help underline that they’re experiencing the same thing.

 For instance if you pick panic attacks as a symptom for the solitary survivor and one of the others, describing the way both of them flinch or freeze, the way they hyperventilate and shake. They could both (independently or together) discover that breathing exercises help.

 They could both go to the doctor (one saying they were tortured and the other complaining of vague chest pains and heart racing) and walk away with the same medication.

 Another possible approach is to pick out some symptoms during solitary and some long term symptoms afterwards that are… culturally regarded as more serious.

 Most cultures find it a lot harder to dismiss hallucinations (which solitary can cause) and self mutilation then things like depression and anxiety.

 I get the impression that in western cultures most people are primed to think of self harm as cutting. In reality there are a lot of behaviours people can engage in which leave them in pain and can cause serious injury. Repeatedly punching a wall for instance.

 Having this character walk into a clinic, hand bruised and swelling up, find they’ve broken several fingers- And then having the doctor, still looking at her clipboard casually say ‘How long have you been self harming?’ That can really drive home, for the reader and the character how serious this is.

 Self harm isn’t something that every writer is going to feel comfortable tackling. If you feel like it isn’t a good fit for your story and character then don’t use it.

 But the hallucinations that can occur during solitary confinement tend to stop once someone is out of solitary. Which let’s you put in a symptom that is usually taken seriously without it becoming long term.

 The hallucinations I’ve read about have been quite varied. The majority of them were unpleasant. A few were neutral. Many read a little like waking dreams. They varied in intensity from occasionally hearing voices in the pipes to fully blown immersive ‘worlds’.

 There are quite a few examples in Shalev’s Sourcebook on Solitary Confinement. It’s available free on line and there’s a link in my source’s page and in the masterpost on solitary.

 The final thing I have to suggest won’t necessarily be a fit for your story. I don’t suggest it very often. But there’s one kind of serious injury this sort of torture could cause that won’t necessarily be obvious straight away and would underline that these clean tortures were bloody serious.

 Brain damage.

 If someone is hit with a Taser or stun gun while standing then falling injuries can cause brain damage. Even mild brain damage can be incredibly debilitating.

 I’ve actually been working on a story with a character that has a mild brain injury and I’ve found this website incredibly helpful for describing the effects.

 Now the reasons this wouldn’t necessarily be a good fit is because brain damage can cause some pretty drastic behavioural and emotional changes. People with brain damage tend to be a lot more impulsive, have trouble identifying and controlling their emotions, difficulty communicating and planning. The list goes on. And it includes a lot of things that might make your character… Well something other then what you intended when you created them.

 If this kind of disability moves the character too far away from your conception of them you don’t have to use it.

 But they’re frightening words aren’t they? Brain damage. They underline the severity of the scenario in an undeniable way. Which makes it a possible answer to this writing problem.

 Wrapping up I think it’s important to consider the kind of plot, characters and character interactions you want when you choose your strategy.

 Some of these techniques work well together in a story. Some of them are probably better on their own.

 Hopefully there’s enough varied suggestions here that you can find a good fit for your story. :)

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[just-a-random-cipher]

!Theories about Gravity Falls!

Enjoy Reading:)👁

I recently came to the understanding that some people in the Gravity Falls fandom are slightly confused as to what little the fandom knows about Bill Cipher’s past. Everyone who watches the show knows he comes from another dimension known as the Nightmare Realm, which is decaying and fated to be destroyed by its very own mechanisms. However, given the release of Journal 3 by Alex Hirsch and Disney, and a rather interesting and hidden page on the Disney XD site (found here), Bill’s background is obviously not as simple as him being a megalomaniacal, dimension hopping villain.

Let’s start with the Axolotl.

Most people know this amphibious being from the last few seconds Bill is alive. He says something close to, “Axolotl, my time has come to burn. I invoke the ancient power that I may return.” If you want to hear it yourself, check out any of the YouTube videos on the subject. However, this seems to point out that Bill knows of, or somehow personally knows, the Axolotl. This is where the hidden link comes into play. Below is a picture of where the link leads to.

Take note of the first highlighted section. Dipper is asking what the Axolotl knows about Bill Cipher. Now, seeing as the Axolotl resides in the “time and space between time and space,” it could have the ability to see and know all of what happens in other places of time and space. This would give the Axolotl a distanced, somewhat unbiased view of what happened in Bill’s original dimension.

The riddle that is boxed gives some insight into Bill’s past from what the Axolotl knows. The first two lines refer to Bill - proof of him being an equilateral triangle due to the three sixty degree angles the Axolotl describes.

The third and fourth lines explain what happened to Bill’s dimension. The dimension burned, and he misses it. The “can’t return” at the end of the fourth line seems to hint that he is trying to get back to his dimension, or is trying to undo its destruction. Also note that Bill watched his dimension burn, meaning he was likely already outside of his dimension. Say this was his first time dimension hopping, and his first time leaving his dimension had some kind of effect like Weirdmageddon did on Earth - only, instead of there being weirdness waves that changed the environment, it was something much worse which basically rendered the entire dimension uninhabitable or entirely wiped it from existence.

Moving on, the Axolotl implies that Bill is lying to himself about being happy, and possibly other things. “Blame the arson for the fire”  could have several meanings at this point. Was there someone else who actually destroyed Bill’s universe? Should we be blaming Bill because he is the arson? Does Bill blame someone else who is the true arson? Seeing as the word “Blame” is a mere imperative verb that is ordering a person or thing to do something, and there is no other person or personal pronouns given in the sentence, it is hard to say who the Axolotl is ordering. If it was “blames,” then it could be derived that it means “Bill blames” since “You blames,” referring to Dipper and likely the only other person the Axolotl could be thinking of in this context, doesn’t make grammatical sense.

The seventh line seems fairly obvious, and the only questions left are: who is Bill shirking the blame to, and what blame precisely? He has supposedly committed hundreds of atrocities and probably broken all the laws in every universe just to say he did, so is he putting the blame for all of his actions on someone else, or just a singular time where he was to blame?

The eighth line likely connects to Bill’s last moments in Stan’s mind. As stated before, Bill says “Axolotl, my time has come to burn. I invoke the ancient power that I may return.” Notice how Bill uses Axolotl’s name, and later says invoke. Kinda obvious connection there. But also note how Bill says “my time has come to burn.” Now, we do see literal fire taking over Stan’s mind, but we never see him actually burn. Of course, this could also point toward a more metaphorical description or that he just needed to rhyme, just as the Axolotl did in answering Dipper’s question, in order to truly invoke the Axolotl.He could also be referencing that he is dying, and that he probably should have died ages ago with the rest of his dimension which burned, but hey. I look for double meanings everywhere. Especially with Bill Cipher.

As for the last two lines… The fandom can only speculate on it. Bill can only liberate himself by doing one singular thing. And apparently a different form and different time are involved. That could have many different meanings. “Different form” could be physically or mentally - Bill could be a different shape, could be reborn as another species somehow, could reaffirm himself and admit the truth, or he could simply get some kind of interdimensional cold and be “out of shape.” The other half seems pretty obvious: “a different time.” It could be the future, the past, the present, the in between times, or even the second or third or hundredth time he tries to make amends.

A different form and time could also refer to a different universe, which holds a different form and different times, or himself entering Gravity Falls’ dimension and gaining a physical body (new form) and trying to start a new reign in another dimension that (this time) won’t just collapse someday without warning.

Basically, the Axolotl states that (in my own opinion) Bill possibly had a hand in the destruction of his home dimension, but likely tried to stop said destruction and failed. He misses his home and can’t return, but is still trying to find a way back to it. He’s lying to himself and someone is definitely to be blamed for the destruction of his universe, but he won’t admit to it. Bill needs the Axolotl in order to put the blame on someone else, and there is only one way, in another time and another form, that he can free himself from the blame.

Alright. Onto The Oracle. Finally.

In the Third Journal, Ford explains what exactly what happened for those 30 years he was missing. After getting attacked in a 2-D Dimension, he met The Oracle in Dimension 52. She knew all about him and his “mission” to defeat Bill. She was the one who helped Ford get a metal plate in his head. She also was the one who told Ford about Bill’s past.

The first few things I want to go over is the page in which Ford depicts The Oracle. She stands, staring with crossed arms partially obscuring an amulet, in front of what seem to be tapestries of the Axolotl. Bubbles and/or orbs seem to be hanging from the ceiling and rising from the floor in front of the tapestries.

The Third Journal does show that some people in the multiverse know of the Axolotl and the Oracle seems to have some kind of psychic power, evidence when she knew Stanford’s name, his purpose, and what he was destined to do. So perhaps that isn’t as interesting as it first appears. The amulet is also rather intriguing… Could it be in the shape of an eye?

But what about the bubbles and orbs?

I kinda feel like I’m looking too deeply into this, but the only other time when bubbles seem to be important is during Weirdmageddon when Bill uses a bubble to trap Mabel and unleashes weirdness bubbles on the town. It seems somewhat weird that the person who gives Ford all the answers seems to have some kind of connection to Bill - albeit a stretched connection with just these pieces of information in hand. It just seems too much like he’s being used again, which I’ll get into later.

Ford, on some level, seems to notice the connection between the Oracle and Bill. The symbols underlined above the circled Axolotl can be decrypted to read, “The opposite of Bill.” This seems to make sense with what little we know of her. She seems to know all, but never tells Ford that she is indeed psychic or omniscient - notice how Ford states, “Whether she was psychic or had just read my wanted poster is hard to say,” implying that he doesn’t know how she knew about him. She is also noted to be “calm” when talking about her desire to end Bill’s reign. However, Bill seems to believe himself to be omniscient due to his ability to peer into all realms from his Nightmare Realm. But he constantly doesn’t foresee issues - Mabel knocking the safe’s code out of his hands in Dreamscaperers and outsmarting him in Sock Opera, the Weirdness Containment Bubble around Gravity Falls, the dino-arm pulling his eye out, the Stans swapping clothes. He also is known to be rather hotheaded and, as many people in the fandom point out, likely to be insane.

Now, you might be wondering where all this comes into play, right? Well, if you look at the second page, where Ford details their encounter a bit more, he says that the Oracle told him that Bill was power hungry, which caused him to burn his dimension and everything and everyone in it.

That doesn’t sound like what the Axolotl said, right? Which is why people are conflicted on what, or rather who, to believe.

But why would she shape her words into something that Ford could easily misinterpret? Well, first things first: she’s an oracle and prophecies can be easily misinterpreted. But that seemed to fit a bit too easily, so I looked a little harder at the wording of the document and came to one conclusion:

She wants Bill dead and out of the picture.

My reasoning? 1) Look at the line “She spoke of him without anger, but with a calm, steely, clinical resolve to see his reign end.” Pretty straight forward. Ford can tell that she doesn’t like Bill’s reign and will not stop until he is stopped. 2) “She… said I had the face of the man who was destined to destroy Bill.” She said destroy Bill, not Ford’s constant “defeat” that he mentions throughout the series. Destroy means to utterly annihilate, reduce to nothing, ruin emotionally and spiritually, to kill. If this is what she said to him, then she obviously wasn’t just messing around. 3) Ford and her spent the entire night partying after she revealed this. They were partying about someone’s death. Kinda harsh

There is one other point that really hammers it into me that the Oracle was manipulating her own words: her own name. The first paragraph reveals her name to be Jheselbraum the Unswerving. The Unswerving. Which means that once she’s dedicated to something - like destroying a dimension hopping demon by the name of Bill - she will not stop until she succeeds.

Seeing as Ford mysteriously found himself in another dimension after he and the Oracle partied together, it’s pretty obvious that she didn’t tell Ford about him being destined to defeat Bill until that last day. You’d expect someone whom could pull someone out of another dimension into their own, whom knew who Ford was way before they met, whom already had a difficult surgery in mind to aid Ford, and whom was obviously invested in taking Bill down to simply tell Ford that he was the multiverse’s savior, right?

She instead kept it all a secret until the last day, at which point Ford was even more resolute to kill Bill instead of just defeating him and keeping him out of his dimension. 

So who do you trust more? Or do you trust no one? On one hand you have a mysterious being that answered Dipper’s question with a riddle instead of a straight answer, and said riddle could be seen in a variety of lights. On the other, you have an equally mysterious Oracle who might have manipulated her words to ensure Ford’s resolve against Bill.

It's just my opinion! So you don't have to say anything about it! :)))

[ilummoss]

One thing I really liked about Mace Windu: Jedi of the Republic is that it is really one long philosophy discussion, mostly concerning the war and the Jedi’s new role in it. It’s also a story about who Mace Windu is (vs how some perceive him).

Most of the discussions are the Jedi speaking amongst themselves, but it also includes some “debates” between Mace and the main villain of the comic, evil-money-grubbing-droid*. Many of these discussions also echo each other or other events in the comic in a way that is either intentional or someone accidentally striking gold.  *(The droids name is technically AD-W4, but honestly evil-money-grubbing-droid fits it way better. This thing makes General Grievous look like he has a healthy outlook on life.)

This is going to get long so buckle up (or blacklist the long post tag). 

The comic starts on a discussion between Ki-Adi Mundi and Mace about the war and the Jedi’s new role in it. This discussion is then (spiritually) continued between other Jedi characters. It follows through the entire comic. 

They continue to discuss how the Jedi strive to lead by example and Mace wonders if it would be easier to guide the Republic down the right path from the front of the battle lines. 

Mace later discusses his doubts with the ugliest Yoda ever painted. (It pains me to think that this is what Yodel/Yodito will look like in just a millennia.) 

Mace and Prosset Dibbs also discuss this very same thing, but here Prosset is the one who brings his doubts to Mace. 

(*Prosset speaks several times about sensing an unease in the force, which is interesting, considering how we know that the Clone Wars is a trap that has just sprung shut around the Jedi.)

Then we have my favourite moment:

A discussion about how they are peacekeepers is literally interupted by the war. We have the entirety of Clone Wars right here. The purpose of the Clone Wars even. This is an important conversation, but the Jedi do not have time for it. Because of the urgency of the war. It’s the worst and I love it.

There are also some good moments between Kit Fisto and Prosset but I’ve discussed those before, so I won’t be going into them as much here. To summarise, Prosset falls into despair over all the people who have died on this planet as a side-effect of the Separatist’s ruthless exploitation of the planets natural resources, and the failure of the Jedi to protect them. 

Prosset then accuses Mace and the Council of having turned their back on the orders teaching and advancing their own agenda (though he is unclear about what said agenda would be), that Mace is fighting this war for his own sake. He then goes even further and accuses the Council of tossing away the lives of this planets inhabitants as collateral, declaring that the true reason behind the mission is a power grab, that they too are aiming at explotating this planet, something we as readers know is false. They were sent there to figure out why the separatists are interested in this place. We have also seen Mace throughout the comic focus on protecting the civilians and trying to find a way to shut down the Separatist operation there, explicitly so that it won’t end up destroying the planet. 

But the confrontation between Prosset and Mace echoes an earlier confrontation between Mace and AD-W4.

This moment follows AD-W4 introducing his motivations* and Mace declaring that the Jedi fight for peace throughout the galaxy (”the greatest cause there is”). It also ties into AD-W4′s misunderstanding of who Mace is, what actually drives him, which eventually leads to his mission there failing. *(Evil-money-grubbing-droid openly states that he is only fighting for money, that he doesn’t care about who’s wrong or right in this conflict, only that the conflict continues so that his services are needed and he can make more money.)

This bit about a void is terribly interesting however, because Mace also speaks about being driven by the need to fill a void in this comic, but not in relation to himself, but to Prosset. 

“I have experienced first hand what insecurity does to men. How a mind warps with it’s obsessive quest to fill the void. With power. With wealth. With lust. With truth.”

Prosset denies it, but he has twisted, warped what is actually happening around him, into something that he can deal with. The Jedi Council have to be bad guys, there has to a conspiracy, because the truth that this is just out of their power and an uncountable amount of innocent people are going to die despite all of them trying their hardest is too much for him to handle.

Prosset also threw out a vague accusation that Mace is fighting this War for himself, something we see again in Mace’s final confrontation with AD-W4. During their fight the droid repeatedly taunts Mace:

“An excuse for your violence. You’re a hypocrite. Perhaps I am force-sensitive myself.”

It is certainly not a flattering picture of Mace Windu these two adversaries paint up. But this confrontation in turn ties into a mission from Mace’s youth which we are introduced to in flashbacks, where Padawan Mace Windu and Jedi Master Cyslin Myr has been sent to a planet suffering under a plague to investigate the disappearance of the Jedi in charge of an outreach temple there. The temple has been taking over be a “Master Drooz” a charlatan exploiting the suffering population, which has left young Mace outraged. 

*(Look at this, more Jedi philosophy. In this comic? What a surprise ^u^)

This moment is pretty clearly here to introduce us to Mace’s struggle with his anger, a characteristic both antagonists of this comic has honed in on. But this anger is connected to how deeply idealistic Mace is at heart, something they miss. As they confront the swindler, Drooz mocks them for what he sees as “squandering” a chance for profit and power whilst Mace’s answer underlines how those things grow pale in comparison to higher goals. 

This confrontation ends on a Palpatine parallel as subtle as a hammer blow to the head. 

This is the last part of the flashback, and it’s positioned right in the scene where Mace finally subdues Prosset, standing above him with his lightsaber pointing down. And then Mace knocks Prosset unconscious and says that he will be brought to the Jedi council. Master Myr’s lesson was heard. 

A fire burns in Mace, that is true. It is something Mace must struggle with and control. But he has learned to keep that fire tempered. He is no longer that hotheaded Padawan, but a disciplined Jedi Master.

The fight between Mace and AD-W4 ends in AD-W4′s defeat, but with evil-money-grubbing-droid gloating that his actual mission was still completed. 

Except AD-W4, like how the fake “Master Drooz” did not understand the Jedi and what drives them, does not understand Mace.

AD-W4 thinks he has Mace figured out, so he missed that Mace was really using himself as a distraction, whilst young Jedi Knight Rissa Mano rigged that ship to explode. As Mace tells AD-W4 during this fight: “Do not mock, nor underestimate, that which you do not understand.”

Mace actually believes in peace. Truly and deeply so. This belief, this want to do good and protect people, is what drives him forward. By believing that Mace was driven foremost by his anger AD-W4 misjudges his entire situation. 

“My righteousness is anything but self-motivated. There is definitive right and wrong. Good and evil.

Mace is going after AD-W4 not because he wants the fight and victory, “the power trip”, but because what evil-money-grubbing-droid is doing is wrong. The destruction he brings to this planet and it’s locals and his very indifference to it, is evil. 

This comic isn’t trying to pretend that Mace Windu is perfect. The very obvious Palpatine parallels reminds us of the moment in his future where Mace will not manage to temper his righteous fury. But this is not yet that point. 

Which brings us one final time back to Prosset. The crux of Prosset’s Fall lies in that this war is horrible and should not exist. The people of this planet should not be hurt and killed by it. 

But, as Mace points out here, it is not up to the Jedi to decide if there will be a war or not*. Peace is already lost. Not fighting will not protect these people.  *(The greatest irony of the Clone Wars is of course that it is an artificial conflict designed to benefit one person solely. There is someone who has decided that there should be a war and has moved everything into place for it. Palpatine could decide to end this any day, but the very core of his character declares that he never will.)

During Mace and Prosset’s fight Rissa is echoing the point Yoda made at the beginning of this comic. If the Jedi don’t keep moving, if they don’t fight, things will get even worse and more will die. 

The Jedi have to move forward and commit fully to their choice, because anything else will get people killed. It’s not about not doubting or questioning, but that sometimes you must move even when there is doubt.

This is the conclusion to the discussion going on throughout this comic. The choice to enter the clone wars wasn’t uncomplicated or easy. The Jedi clearly have great doubt about it, both as an organisation and individuals. But sometimes all you have are bad choices, and the responsibility to choose. 

[jamesbi-canonbarnes]

I'm having trouble connecting the emotional through line between episodes 2 and 3. In the therapy session Sam tells Bucky they can just finish the mission and then they're done with each other, after that it seems like things have cooled a bit and Bucky even starts to say, "I feel awful" before they get interrupted by Walker. Then in 3 things seems relatively fine between and they even (especially Sam) show some concern for the other?? And Bucky totally still not trying to understand Sam's POV

Ok ok mood. I’m not an expert on writing, but I do have lots of thoughts on this, so lemme talk this through w you (long post ahead). Some of these thoughts are going to be theorizing super hard about what’s going to happen in future eps so for sure take that with a grain of salt.

IMO for a show where the most interesting thing is literally just the emotional states of these two men and how they relate to each other through those emotions, their emotional arcs are not nearly pointed enough for my taste...I suspect that’s partly because we’re pulled back and forth between the more lighthearted banter and the more heartfelt expressions of their internal lives. But also bc, I think, the whole thing is that these two CANT communicate because if they DO, their emotional states will reach RESOLUTION too quickly.

And IMO, I actually think it’s the therapy scene alone that is throwing the balance off leading up to 3. I didn’t feel like threatening not to ever see each other again was earned, or at least it wasn’t clear to me where it’s coming from writing-wise. (Not that I wouldn’t support Sam cutting himself off from the toxicity of someone else’s unfair expectations, if this were real life and not a function of a written story). It just feels too far a swing of the pendulum compared to directly before and after. Sam just saved Bucky, and yes he never got to finish railing Bucky over Isaiah, but *because* that argument didn’t hit its crux, I don’t think it’s enough for most viewers to explain the kind of statement Sam makes in the therapy scene. Yes Sam does keep shutting Bucky down in a lot of ways, but we also know that before Bucky confronted him in episode 2, he was doing the opposite and trying to reach out to Bucky. So it feels a bit confusing to me. I don’t know what Sam wants, besides to be left alone, and that itself feels neither genuine nor like good enough motivation on a character level for this story. So. In lieu of any other story reason, I guess I think Sam’s reaction in the therapy scene is a way to artificially raise the emotional stakes so that the eventual resolution is more satisfying. That’s the only thing I can think, although if that’s the case, they started building back up extremely quickly.

Bc you’re absolutely correct, immediately after that therapy scene, Bucky is upset but clearly wants to communicate that to Sam, contrary to any agreement to squash it and move on. And though there’s no time for dialogue then, they approach walker/Hoskins essentially a united (though frustrated) front. And then after that and all through ep 3, though they are functionally on opposite sides of the entire zemo argument in every way, Sam basically rolls over repeatedly throughout and actually ends up expressing more care for Bucky than we’ve previously seen and also opens up to him more... and IMO bucky breaking zemo out of prison without asking and with clear premeditation was a major violation of trust, for which Sam was not afforded the opportunity to express proportional ire. (For me Bucky’s speech there asking Sam to do it for him did not hit as reasonable motivation for sam). You would think after the level of ire sam expressed to bucky’s genuine (though self centered) vulnerability in the therapy session, the level of ire to bucky’s lies and even “betrayal” (as I see it) would be notable. It should be at least above essentially saying “you’re dead to me once your usefulness runs out” which I think is the dark but fair implication of “let’s just finish this and never speak again” or whatever he said in the therapy scene. Instead he says a reluctant version of “ok, I’ll do exactly what I just explicitly said I didn’t want to do, just because you asked.”

The thing is, clearly neither of them actually hate each other. They have both repeatedly shown genuine care for the other. So why is the animosity even happening?

The emotional throughlines should help us figure that out, and vice versa. So what I’m thinking is, a throughline has to have a beginning and an end, and figuring out those can help you figure out what the points in the middle should be. Here the beginning of Bucky’s emotional throughline w Sam is clearly from a starting point of straight up misplacing his grief and aggression onto Sam, bc he’s projecting Sam as the distant figurehead of stability to replace Steve. His not understanding Sam on a personal level is the primary obstacle to his realizing and resolving that entire emotional throughline, thus the end point of the throughline necessarily requires passing through Bucky understanding Sam’s POV and empathizing with Sam. In my prediction, that empathy leads to self actualization through purposefully accessing his own feelings (rather than letting his blocked emotions break through and then ignoring both the cause and consequences of them). Then he can start down a path of true restitution leading to his own healing through healing his relationships.

IMO bucky has never hated Sam. He has always fully just been jealous of him. Jealous of how happy he is, how few problems he pretends to have, and his relationship with Steve, if you want to go there.

So because Bucky does not hate Sam, there isn’t really anywhere to go after hitting the mark of seeing Sam’s POV... besides, essentially, restitution as resolution. Bc it’s through that realization>restitution that Bucky’s going to have to face the actual issue, of who he actually hates. Only then can he heal. He doesn’t have to forgive Sam. He has to forgive himself. So that he can restore himself, which he can only do after restoring Sam.

(And, if they’re really going to go there, he has to forgive Steve. I’m unsure if that’s going to be directly drawn for us or not)

I think that bucky’s throughline will resolve itself relatively quickly after Sam gets what he needs from Bucky, hence why he can’t have it yet. So in the meantime, Bucky comes off as frankly a bad friend who is self absorbed/entitled and unwilling to unlearn white supremacy bc it requires uncomfortable empathy with a Black man.

Sam’s emotional throughline as filtered through how he relates to Bucky is a little harder for me to grasp, I’ll be honest. Obviously the end point the emotional throughline has to underline is accepting the mantle of captain America (accepting himself?) So maybe that is woven among the throughline of his journey to accepting Bucky as an ally??, but I’m not sure what the starting point even is to be honest.

I do think that what is clearer (at least to me, and maybe this is only applicable to me?) about Sam is that we as the informed audience already know an important part of why he gave up the shield. It’s very much about race. Sam has not expressed that to Bucky, but we know it. Bucky has no idea that this is about race—or more accurately, that’s it’s about trauma regarding race. He hasn’t connected Sam’s ultimate motivation to Sam’s statements and experience re: race. Sam has certainly expressed anger and hurt, but he hasn’t connected them to race and then to the symbol of captain America for Bucky, whereas they’re already connected for many viewers. I’m not going to give Bucky a pass for not connecting them because that type of ignorance is not neutral. But he clearly does not know, and he DOES keep asking. He has asked multiple times in words why Sam gave up the shield. But instead of giving a direct answer, Sam continues to shut him down, each time literally by refusing to speak and walking away. Now I tend to agree with Sam that it’s none of his business. Sam shouldn’t have to bare his trauma to explain something to Bucky just because Bucky wants him to. Especially when Bucky has not indicated that he’s willing or able to empathize with the reason. And on top of that, it being something sam knows Bucky cannot fully understand? I mean, I’m on Sam’s side here.

But the thing is, the show is setting it up so that Sam has to open up. He has to let Torres touch his machinery (metaphorically) he has to let Bucky get close to him (metaphorically). Sam has to let others in and he has to do it for himself, for his own healing. But I’m not yet sure why that’s so important for his journey, besides the obvious being this is a story about how to heal from trauma from every side.

So right now I think we’re just seeing Sam continue to drop hints both about what his trauma is and about the fact that he cares for Bucky, bc those are the important things for his resolution. This is continuing despite the therapy scene and not because of it, which I find odd, from a writing perspective. And we’re seeing Bucky miss a lot of those hints, bc he’s too busy being defensive to take them as genuine expressions of what they are, of exactly what he’s asking of Sam. That *does* make sense to me from a writing perspective. Because once he understands Sam’s POV, the throughline has to move forward toward resolution.

Idk. I just am not sure that I’m really getting Sam’s arc yet. That’s not to say that it’s not emotionally hitting, necessarily, bc I am firmly finding myself behind Sam.

And allllll of that is just to say: I agree that the emotional throughline feels a bit wobbly here, and I don’t have a way to reconcile it. I will take further suggestions if anyone has them.

[awhilde]

down, down the rabbit hole

pairings: none, but the characters include mingyu. wonwoo, jihoon, jeonghan (from svt) and an oc

genre(s): thriller, gore (tiny bit). a made-in-abyss!au :D

warnings: because of the previously mentioned gore, readers discretion is advised. also swearing!

word count: 4.06k words

synopsis: in which mingyu and his friends allow their naivety and curiosity to drive them forward, dropping them down a 20,000 metre abyss where the abnormal becomes far too evident. stumbling through nature’s phenomenon, the group is forced to experience horrors that sombre their once exhilarating endeavours. will they be able to be decisive when their friend’s life is on the line, and who is this red-eyed creature that promises them sanctuary? 

author’s note: hey guys! unfortunately, this isn’t the genshin au i promised however i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! i believe i published this a while ago on another account but i’m posting it again for content <3 also it was originally a y/n piece so please tell me if there’s a “you” or “your” that i’ve missed in my brief editing!  the genshin au will come out soon :)

mingyu struggled to pinpoint an exact moment in his life which he could blame for his current circumstances.

it was as easy for him to say that sneaking into his good friends wonwoo and jihoon’s room past the stroke of midnight was the cause, as it were to say growing up at his local orphanage was at fault. hell, if the reasoning travelled down this path, it could also be justified that by simply existing he’d cause himself to arrive at his current position. perhaps this was his destiny, every event of his life leading up to this climax, worthless in the grand scheme of fate for every decision he had believed to have made was manipulated for the sole purpose of mingyu in the situation he was in as of present; torn with the constant conflict of emotion he was experiencing.

this was where his life had led him, 20,000 metres deep into a swirling, unforgiving vortex where the abnormal became evident with every blink of the eye, and where it intended to end, it seemed.  

the sky overhead had vanished from sight two layers into the unnatural phenomenon, when the fog by their feet had thickened to a substance that clung moist against every vulnerable patch of skin and surface. mingyu never thought he would come to miss the cloudy skies of his mediocre hometown. where had his thirst for adrenaline gone now? but after a tormenting week treading deeper and deeper into the abyss’ claws, mingyu had yearned for familiarity.

when his stomach gave way on the third layer, mingyu missed most the plain bowl of congee the orphanage served to him every morning despite its lack of taste and colour.

when his eyes started to leak pus and blood, mingyu missed most the shimmering sun, burning on the edge of the horizon every evening despite its glare on his skin.

there was much the boy felt grateful for, oh how he only came to this realisation now, 20,000 metres far from home. his goal to reach the very depth of the abyss slipped from his hands like running water, gathered only by the company his friends provided him. mingyu never felt more grateful that he hadn’t entered alone.

if his naivety had gotten away from him yet again, mingyu shivered at the prospect of descending without the companionship of his three closest friends, wonwoo, jihoon and lyra. he never sourced his complaints outside of his head, for every disaster that he experienced, he knew his friends experienced the same suffering alongside him, comfort in the form of unspoken understanding. mingyu knew he would be able to overcome these mishaps as long as their companionship never left him.  

however, god’s sense of humour must be twisted for the first night of the fifth layer, the last layer of mingyu’s sanity thinned.

“fuck!” jihoon swore. his hand shook in the tangles of his hair, the other hovering over wonwoo’s body as if uncertain. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

mingyu heard jihoon’s cursing as if submerged underwater for his head went static from his own worry. he tipped his backpack upside down in desperation, seeking an item his sub-conscious knew didn’t exist. hadn’t they packed an antidote for this specific reason? but it had been long gone, shattered and spilt over the edge of a crumbling cliff after a desperate struggle of power between a gnarly beast and mingyu’s life. that mistake could possibly cost his friend’s life.

lyre caressed wonwoo’s hair as his head laid like deadweight on her lap, mouth dry against the dense air, chest heaving harsh pants. his eyes, heavily diluted, seemed to stare past her head at empty space and lyre may have lost all hope had it not been for the ghost of determination underlining the furrow of his brows. “wonwoo, i swear you’ll be okay, just hold on a little longer. mingyu’s getting the antidote now, he’s just a little slow. you know how clumsy he can get, just hang on, okay?”

but wonwoo had stopped giving replies ten minutes ago.

her hands, like her voice, trembled under the weight of a moist cloth, aiming to replace the steaming one on his head but fear diverted its path with every shake. doubt threatened to choke her of her words, leaving lyre curled up by the side of the abnormal rainforest, the world never viewed the same again. but she knew, if not marginally, that panic wouldn’t do the situation any more good.

jihoon seemed to have lost all sense of this concept however, as he continued to alternate between standing and pacing the grounds. “there has to be something i’ve forgotten, something that can help. think, jihoon, think!”

wonwoo hissed in pain then, and all three of his friends turned in fright. his arm had swelled to an abnormal size, pulsing liquid under his skin and shaded a dark purple.

“jihoon.” lyre called after the boy had settled, voice wavering. “wasn’t there something we learnt at school? something about the poison of []’s?”

“i know there was something, i know! but i can’t remember it!” jihoon let his words explode from his chest yet he heeds no apology. “damn it, what was it?” his eyes found mingyu across the field, still digging through the contents of their shared bags. “for fuck’s sake, leave the fucking bags, mingyu! they’re worthless right now.”  

mingyu glanced up from his own world of regret and doubt, torment swimming in the pools of his eyes. the situation looked hopeless no matter what angle he portrayed it in. and, this had been his fault. his own carelessness, his naivety had prompted the death of his best friend. why hadn’t he listened to them all when they told him to step back from the pond? what had his mind been doing, telling him to continue his reckless behaviour just for the short lived praise he might have received? he had been pushed to the side when the lone [ ] had arrived at the scene, a creature so foreign and unknown that fear had short-circuited his actions.

he had stood frozen in the line of danger, horror encasing his body in suffocating crystals. it was wonwoo that had moved first, wonwoo who had considered all possible options which led him to sacrifice his own body for mingyu’s, wonwoo that had thrown himself at the creature, mingyu’s life and not his own being the only thing weighing on hid mind.

what had his last words been? the thought dawned on mingyu, like a nostalgic taste on the tip of his tongue. “don’t sulk, you look super dumb?” no, there was something else. something of potential importance, yet it mocked his grasp when he neared the truth. wonwoo’s whines of pain sounded as background noise at the point of his pondering, so familiar and yet gruelling at the pits of his stomach.

“something…” he mumbled, and lyre and jihoon looked up at the sound of his voice. “wonwoo said something before he couldn’t speak, what was it?”

“is this really the time?” jihoon snapped. “this isn’t the time.”

“jihoon, shut up. there was something he said before he became like this. i have a feeling he was trying to tell us how to deal with the situation.”

lyre turned her head from mingyu to the pale boy in her lap, a concentrated look evident in the crease between her eyebrows. mingyu caught the movement from the corner of his eye and clicked his finger at her. “lyre, you were the closest to him at the time. do you remember what it was?”

at the sudden spotlight, her mind blanked. there had been something previously, but the thought taunted and danced around the perimeter of her head as she tried, and failed, to chase it. “his arm, he mentioned something about his arm.” she finally blurted, his voice entering her head.

jihoon practically growled at the words. “well geez, that solves everything, doesn’t it? thanks for wasting our time, mingyu.” both mingyu and lyre took no offense to his harsh words; someone had to be the angry one in the current situation. lyre continued that train of thought, blocking out the noise of jihoon’s ranting, mingyu’s mumbling and wonwoo’s whimpers. she hoped that fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to give her this sliver of hope, thin and feeble in her hands, and that the solution to this dawning terror would be solved with the following revelation. “breaking something… he mentioned breaking something. what was it? a tree branch? true, the antidote of a beast should be found around the region so that its prey may survive from its poison. otherwise, the ecosystem would fail. but which tree? in this rainforest, what tree are we talking about. breaking apart… a bug? another small mammal? no, you wouldn’t break something with flesh, you would break something that’s hard. breaking… like snapping? breaking…”

jihoon continued to pace around you and wonwoo, head spinning in constant agony. there was fault coloured in the pale flush of his cheeks, why didn’t he know how to solve this issue? why didn’t he pull mingyu aside when the monster had first showed itself? and worse, why hadn’t he been the one to risk his life? why had he froze, selfish in the way that he valued his life over his dear friend’s, opting instead to leave someone else to do the harsh deed. why hadn’t he moved and pull wonwoo who laid by his feet out of harm’s way, instead standing still and letting the monster take a fierce chomp out of wonwoo’s arm? there was no doubt that if he had successfully performed the manoeuvre, wonwoo wouldn’t be in the position he was in now.

his feet crunched against a fallen stick as he paced and the noise triggered a thought in lyre’s head, her eyes widening in disbelief as it all clicked together.

“oh my god, his arm.” she murmured.

jihoon goes to quieten her, goes to tell her to stop obsessing over the idea of his arm when a tear slips from her eyes. the sheer terror from the thought evoked strong pulses of emotion to leak from lyre’s eyes like bleeding cyanide, but she pushed through regardless. how selfish would it be to only think of yourself whilst your friend suffered on the brink of death?

she looked jihoon in the eyes and repeated herself. “his arm. he wants us to snap his arm before the poison reaches his brain.”

lyre gave the boys no time to digest this new sliver of information, working instead to tear off a section of your shirt and wrapping it tightly where the poison had evidently stopped on his arm, black and purple, budging skin pressed against the material. in truth, lyre had no idea what she was doing, simply relying on memory and the many shows she’d watched to guide her movements as she tightened the knot.

the still silence broke when mingyu began to protest against the speculation, fearing the consequence of the action, but jihoon had moved to her side without further protest.

“guys, what are you doing? this isn’t right, we’ll just be killing him instead! guys, please stop, don’t think like that, there’ll be another way, please…” mingyu’s words failed to comprehend through his friends’ ears.

jihoon’s hands replaced lyra’s on the fabric and took over the job, eyes empty as he worked. only lyre saw the tremor in his hands as he tore more fabric and secured the separation of skin. his eyes meet the shivering girl’s over wonwoo’s body. “can you do this?”

her intake of breath is loud in the air shared between the two of you. clearly, jihoon had no idea what he was doing either, despite being the token medical friend. despite knowing that it was her idea, lyre shook her head softly.

“i’m going to use the axe that we kept to break his bones. can you help snap the rest?”

his words were gruesome, sickening to its core but wonwoo’s cries answered his question before she was able to, and she nodded seconds after. hesitance could cost wonwoo’s life.

     mingyu stood over the two of them, passing the axe to jihoon with a grimace on his face. “god this is wrong, god this is so, so wrong.” but the transition is smooth as he lets the axe fall into his friend’s hands.

jihoon acknowledged the fact with an incoherent mumble before adjusting his grip on the tool. “mingyu, get me some water. we may not have disinfectants but if we don’t wash it, bacteria will kill him instead.”

the boy’s shadow left the trio. lyra  placed a hand over wonwoo’s eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of what was to come. was he even conscious in the process? what if she had been wrong to think that his last words demanded the loss of a limb. this was by no means a perfectly successful strategy, but as it was all they had, so regardless of any .lingering whips of doubt, she held onto it like a lifeline.

“ready?” jihoon murmured.

the both of them nodded their heads slightly; there was no way they would be completely ready. but lyra’s hands found wonwoo’s biceps and they stayed there, stayed there until the axe swung up into the air, metal glinting in the reflection of the sun before falling from the force of gravity and the aid of jihoon’s strength. stayed there until the axe fell and met his flesh with a sickening thud.

a thud.

a blunt thud.

wonwoo’s shrill screams pierced through the previously tranquil atmosphere of the rainforest. his back lurched forward but mingyu had some sense to hold down his body before the axe had fallen. though mingyu had held down his body, wonwoo didn’t halt thrashing around. his arms pulsed under lyra’s hands and his legs kicked out for an escape.

“oh god.” jihoon exclaimed in horror, white sheet evident against his face. his hands shook and the axe fell to the floor.

underneath where the blade of the axe had fallen, crimson paint blossomed leaving a trail of broken skin and something else twisted. his flesh peaked from under the flabs of his skin, untainted until it was, blood and pus swimming from his arm.

wonwoo couldn’t stop screaming.

it was clear that jihoon had failed to touch the bone.

wonwoo’s eyes felt wet under lyra’s hands and she let out a weak sob.

jihoon froze.

mingyu struggled under wonwoo’s flailing figure.

“give it here!” mingyu was quick to shout, snatching the axe from the ground without a response, forcing jihoon to quickly melt his terror from his skin and throw himself onto wonwoo’s body.  

wonwoo cries were deafening, coarse now from use and the strength in his limbs had weakened, allowing jihoon to hold down his body with more ease despite the weight difference.

mingyu swung without any indication of doing so, hard and fast against the same spot jihoon had attacked. this time, he pulled away with a weak crack. he whimpered at the noise but raised it again.

“oh my god.” lyra whimpered. “oh my god, why did we use a blunt axe?”

but mingyu doesn’t stop. he continued to swing the axe, up and down, letting the momentum aid his strength, letting wonwoo’s protests to stop fuel his stamina. there is a squelch among the splinters, a cry amongst the shouts but mingyu never falters. he doesn’t falter when lyra moved her own hands to help settle the body, avid to stop his movements. he doesn’t stop when wonwoo’s voice crack, soundless screams like the cries of tormenting ghosts whispering regret and fault into his ears. he doesn’t stop when the boy’s eyes roll back into his head, revealing murky white. and he doesn’t stop when wonwoo’s body finally falls slack on the floor, limp and drained of all energy from the continued torture he had undergone.

he only stopped when the arm separates completely from the body, a tattered arm lying lifelessly away from its previously conjoined biceps, adorned with the colour of fresh blood and oozing pus. the wound pulsated with flowing blood.

“water!” mingyu cried. he turned to a shell-shocked jihoon whose eyes had watched without blinking. “get the water, goddamnit!”

perhaps it was his tear-stricken face, or his eyes that reflected a haunted expression due to the fact he axed away at his friend, but jihoon finally moved. he’d leapt to grab their source of water and begun to pour it without thought at the injury.

lyra gasped, taking in the oxygen that your body severely lacked. “stop, you’re wasting it! put the bottle closer!”

truthfully, half of the spent water and rushed and spilt onto the jungle floor, worthless to their current situation. the boy instantly followed after your words, edging nearer to the smell of rotting flesh and decay. the boy felt faint at the scent, more so at the sight. god, there was so much blood.

mingyu rebooted and finally began to move again. “tear off your shirt.”

the girl hesitated at his words.

“tear off your shirt!” he repeated with more intended force.

she was quick to break out of her trance and began to tear long stripes of cotton from her attire, mingyu doing the same. in a clumsy, almost child-like way, the three of you attempt to bandage the leaking wound as best as you can, but the white cloth turns scarlet red as soon as its placed. a hopeless sob escaped your throat. had you just murdered your friend?

the almost lifeless body laid like a corpse on the ground, pale in his complexion and unconscious. he would have been mistaken for dead had it not been for the shallow breaths the three of them heard occasionally. when the sun had fallen, the bleeding had eased. simply for a lack of supple, lyra wondered in half-hearted ponder. she felt lightheaded in the sense that thought ran away from her. she wished for water, but they had used the majority in hopes of washing wonwoo’s wound.

it seemed hopeless all over again.

“oh my. perhaps it’s finally my time to step in.”

lost in her own world of panic, lyra missed the words of a newcomer though it appeared jihoon hadn’t.

“who are you?” jihoon asked, successfully gaining lyra’s and mingyu’s attention away from the body though it lingers on their minds. hostility crept into the boy’s voice as he continued. “what do you want?”

the source of the unfamiliar voice stemmed from a figure hidden within the shadows of the towering trees. none of the three could determine the identity of the creature causing suspicion to raise.

the creature walked from beneath the tree’s shade, a smug-like expression adorning their face. they appeared human-like, sharing similar features with the humans lyra was familiar with. they had normal curly, black hair that tickled the tips of his ears, eyes that curved like crescents and a mouth in which appeared to be in a constant mocking state. they would have come off as human save for the sharp teeth that glimmered in his grin and the red, hungry look in his eyes. “my name is jeonghan.” he explained.

“are you… human?” mingyu wondered.

the thing chuckled as if he found something the boy said humorous. “that’s funny, as if i could possibly downgrade.”

jihoon positioned his boy to protectively angle his body against the strange creature. “what do you want from us?”

jeonghan tilted his head. “why, what does it look like i’m doing?”

“it looks like you’re being a nuisance.” he answered. grabbing at the axe, he placed it between the four of you and the red eyed beast. wonwoo’s blood dripped from the edge of the blade to which jeonghan raised his eyebrows at. “stay back.” but jihoon’s voice betrayed his attitude and cracked under the pressure.

“put the axe down, jihoon.” jeonghan warned, taking a step forward. despite his firm voice, his lips wavered as if to conceal a smile.

“how do you know my name?” the boy replied instead of complying. despite jeonghan stepping closer, jihoon’s threats made no appearance. he had entered the abyss in hopes to solve the lifelong mystery of where it came from, not to fight a mystical creature. nothing in his life had trained him for this

“you two were screaming it so much it was hard to miss. it would be, rather, more shocking if i hadn’t heard it.” jeonghan said, gesturing to lyra and mingyu. “you two should really keep it down, by the way, or you’ll wake stronger beasts than the one you encountered before, you know, the one that bit your friend? and then even i wouldn’t be able to save you from them.” he hesitated and you flinched from his words. “well, maybe i could.”

mingyu took the silence that followed after as an opportunity to speak. “this sounds like you’re here to help us?”

jeonghan shrugged and mingyu noticed that he had been steadily closing the gap between him and the group but he let the thought slide. he were tired, oh so tired from the fear of losing his friend, the adrenaline from contributing to said friend’s loss of a limb and now this, a potential threat. perhaps death called, though it couldn’t be so bad if it promised a peaceful rest.

           “i would simply be delighted to aid you in your…” he glanced around jihoon’s guarding figure to wonwoo’s body. “successful attempt to save your friend.” he finally spoke, words coming out rather slowly. “however, my buddy jihoon here, seems to be opposed against my gracious decision. perhaps you want wonwoo to die, jihoon buddy ol’ pal?”

jihoon looked to be physically in pain, teeth grinding upon each other. his mouth opened to say more but mingyu placed a firm hand on his arm. “we’ll accept.” mingyu said. “please save our friend.” the boy glanced at jihoon and shook his head desperately. “wonwoo doesn’t have time for us to argue.” he offered as explanation and when jihoon sighted wonwoo, he found himself agreeing.

“fine. please help us, jeonghan.” he muttered, hands still tightening on the handle of the axe though he lets his arm drop.

the creature clapped his hands in excitement. “excellent! i knew you would come around, jihoon.”

lyra cut into the conversation before jihoon could take the bait and bite back. “how are you going to save him? what are you going to do?”

the desperateness must have coloured her tone for jeonghan turned to face her. his eyes were haunting when they settled on hers for the first time, seemingly delving deep into her soul and prying deep into her memories. they left no surface unturned, a hurricane in his wake, the smile engraved into the crevices of her mind as he spoke once more. “come back with me and i’ll show you.”

lyra watched as jeonghan turned from her, colour returning into her sight as his figure began to disappear against the backdrop of the rainforest. she heard only her faint breaths and the whistle of perching birds, heads tilted in curiosity as they watched the event that occurred in the world beneath them. her eyes find mingyu’s which have been hardened beyond recognition and the two of you knew that the moment would forever be etched into the wrinkles of their brains. if they were to ever survive this, it would only mean elongated suffering.

there were tears in lyra’s eyes at the prospect of failing their initial endeveurs to explore the hidden depths of the unknown phenomenon. hadn’t they only wanted to explore what the abyss had offer? hadn’t they simply wanted the thrill of adventuring with your childhood friends, seeking out a journey that would be inked in history? and now the reality of the world had sunken into their bones like cement.

the four of them had barely descended past the fifth layer, edging on the boundaries and the concept of returning knocked on your mind like an unwanted friend.

jihoon stood, rustling the wind at the sudden disturbance. he swung wonwoo’s only arm over his shoulder and wordlessly trekked after jeonghan whose back was almost consumed by the forest’s shadows. there was only one option and jihoon knew this, knew this before the rest of his friends did.

mingyu followed after jihoon, zipping up his backpack and tossing it over his shoulder. he offered lyra a hand as he passed her on the floor, which she accepted. an unspoken nod is bounced back between the two, something like determination and acceptance in the gesture.

whatever was in their path of destiny had to be overcome no matter its challenge, for the four of them had descended so far to die only at its fifth layer.

[bustedbernie]

I was watching the impeachment proceedings this morning before I got sick of Republicans talking out of both sides of their mouths. But one of them (I forget who at this point) was talking about how the rush to vote on the resolution is violating due process. I briefly thought he had a point before I remembered that terrorists don't always get due process /because of three GOP/. I think everyone should have due process of law, but some Republicans spent their post-9/11 time harping on the urgency of countering terrorism and establishing FISA courts where due process is sprinkled on proceedings like a garnish as opposed to being a core ingredient. What are your thoughts on this?

I think in this case the witnesses are the Representatives and Senators who were there. There is enough evidence already to allow for due process. The process IS fair. Due process also demands a speedy and fair trial. Tr*mp will get both.  Even putting all that aside, my deeper thoughts are actually pretty superficial. I’m angry and resentful and I want Justice. I don’t think me, you or anyone else should have to listen to this group of people cry about unity, due process, or any other unsubstantiated complaint. Particularly when they rushed in a homophobic, inarticulate, and racist person to the court in a rushed manner, violating their own ideology. That’s ignoring that they have also nominated and placed rapists and white supremacists on the court. As a party, they have fought to have the mentally incapacitated and those sentenced as minors executed. And of course, you underline some of their recent actions antagonistic to justice.  All in all, we DO want unity, respect for diverse views, justice and equality. But they have not been pursuing that. Nor can we have any of that without accountability. I’m happy to see them being called out loud in the town square. I’m proud to see the country come together around the shared value of Democracy and the free exercise of power vested in the hands of the public. On that not, some Republicans have questioned even that most important of civic values. Why should we hesitate to hold them accountable to that? This is as much about striving toward our values as a Nation as it is about holding them accountable. 

In short, I don’t think the impeachment violates due process. I think it’s just a talking point they are trying to reach for because the alternative is acknowledging their complicity in white supremacy and/or condemning their own President. They don’t want to do any of that. They want to “move on” because that’s the only path forward that would allow them to get past this moment without A) being held accountable to their voters, the public, their god, and their families or B) being seen as betraying their President by a loud, violent coalition of insurrectionists that have in many ways supplanted the traditional base of the Republican Party. I would say that they created this for themselves. They made this bed and now they gotta get in it. I am just not inclined toward sympathy. I AM inclined toward empathy, though. But empathy demands accountability, and they gotta swallow that pill. But don’t think for a moment that this assertion about due process is anything other than a red herring to avoid looking at themselves in the mirror or looking at the monster they’ve been complicit in creating.