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goldenpixel · 4 years ago

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The scene with Wilbur in Quackity’s latest lore stream made me Think some Thoughts, and I wanted to get all of my SBI family headcanons together in one place, so here’s this post

First thing, this is their age order:

Philza -> Techno/Wilbur -> Tubbo -> Ranboo -> Tommy

- Techno and Wilbur were born on the same day, so most of the family refers to them as “the twins” but they are not blood related

- Philza did not know how old Techno was when they were ruling the Antarctic Empire, he thought that Techno was around 21 when he was actually around 14-16

- this is a fact that haunts Phil to this day, because he committed a massive amount of war crimes with an actual child, and also for reasons that will soon become very clear

Philza and Techno

- they’re married

- they got married with them each thinking that the other was close to their own age (Phil thought Techno was in his early 20’s, Techno thought Phil was in his late teens)

- for more on their marriage, check out this post

- despite Techno and Wilbur being the same age, Techno is mentally much older due to his past and his general status as the Blood God

- Phil did most of the work raising the older kids, but Techno did his fair share, and you can definitely see his influence when you look at the kid’s behaviors

- both of them are immortal

- Techno is a new immortal, the Blood God has only just come into existence, but he isn't leaving anytime soon

- Philza is an old immortal, he was there when the world was born, and he'll be there when it dies

Wilbur

- Wilbur and Philza are the only blood relatives in the whole family

- as much as he loves him, Wilbur has always been a bit bitter towards Techno, because when they were teenagers, Techno was off ruling and adventuring and having fun with Phil during the AE, and Wil was left home with a young Tommy to look after

- Wilbur’s hair is naturally blond, just like Phil and Tommy’s

- no one knows who Wilbur’s mom is (unfortunately mpreg is the norm on this server, so Phil carried him, and he’s got some ideas on who Wil’s mom is, but he honestly doesn’t care enough to look into it)

- Wilbur has wings

- they’re much smaller than Phil’s, he can barely fly with them, but they’re the same color and shape as Phil’s

- because of how fragile his wings are, Wilbur should not technically be able to fly, but he literally sheer force of will-ed it and threw himself off the roof of their house so many times that he can glide when he jumps from high places, and if it’s a really high place, he can get in a few good flaps of his wings to get him some extra distance

- Phil doesn’t learn that Wilbur can semi-fly/glide until one day they’re off adventuring together and Wil is being dramatic and theatrical and walking backwards while he talks, and he falls off a cliff

Tommy

- Tommy has been with them since he was a few days old

- because of his light features, most people assume that he is Phil’s son by blood, and he just didn’t inherit the wings

- (at ages 10 and 16, Tommy and Wilbur did the blood-brothers handshake where they cut their palms and then shook hands, so if you ask them, they’re blood brothers through and through)

- Techno taught Tommy how to sew

- Tommy is a young god, but he hasn’t grown into most of his powers yet

- Tommy is a god of death, the future Death himself, Kristen is his mother

- (this is how Phil comes into possession of him. Phil, being the Angel of Death, was really the only reasonable choice when it came to Death herself finding someone to raise her son)

- Tommy has light features, even though Mumza has dark features, because she purposefully made him out of the light, she wanted him to be good and kind, so she created him from the literal light that you see when you're dying

- because he was born from the actual moment of death, despite Tommy's eyes being blue, they hold the void itself in them

- if you look too closely into Tommy's eyes, it can be easy to lose yourself and fall right in

- sometimes Mumza comes to visit, these are very bittersweet moments for Tommy

- he loves his mom, and he loves seeing her and seeing Phil happy to see her, and she usually takes him along on her next trip, ever so slowly teaching him how to be Death, but he also hates that that is his future

- he doesn't want to be the next Death, he doesn't want to outlive all of his friends and his brother, he just wants to be normal

- because of this, Tommy represses pretty much all of his godly powers, trying to seem as normal as possible, the one he represses the most is his automatic healing, when he gets hurt, he wants to stay hurt

- he represses everything so well that its years before Tubbo finds out that his best friend is a god

Ranboo

- Techno raised Ranboo more than Phil did

- (because of this, he’s the only kid who actually views Techno as his father. Despite him literally being their stepdad, the others see Techno as more of a brother or an uncle)

- Techno found Ranboo when he was around 12 years old on the edge of a warped forest in the nether (if you want some more nether-boys hc’s, check out this post)

- at that age, Ranboo hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet due to malnutrition, so he was much smaller than the average human 12 year old, and everyone thought he was around 8-10 (because of his memory issues, Ranboo thought the same thing until Tommy kept pestering him about when his birthday was and he remembered the year)

- Ranboo is brought into the family when he’s 12, Tommy is 11, and Wilbur and Techno are 17

- as I said before, Techno may have been 17 when he took in Ranboo, but he was definitely a father to this anxious amnesiac preteen

- because of his height, Ranboo is constantly slouching to fit through doorways, inside houses, and to make himself appear smaller, so he grows to need a cane

Tubbo (and Dream)

- street cat

- they fed him once and he just kept coming back

- sometimes he’ll disappear for a few weeks, but he always turns up eventually

- boy’s got some family issues, some real bad family issues

- his dad is Schlatt, who left him and big brother Dream to fend for themselves when he and Dream were 6 and 11

- luckily Dream has an excellent sense of direction and memory, and got them to Aunt Puffy’s current port before she pushed off on her next adventure (but not before getting briefly separated and making some friends)

- (the few weeks they spend separated are when Tubbo first gets found by Wilbur and Tommy and forcibly adopted by Phil, and Bad lures Dream home with food and he meets Sapnap)

- both boys have ram features - floppy ears, horns, etc., Dream also inherited their Aunt Puffy's rainbow hair (he dyes it blonde semi-regularly. It's dyed when he meets sbi, and Wilbur and Techno have the exact same reaction to it when they finally see his natural hair: relentless teasing. Like father like son amiright?)

- Tubbo and Dream are half brothers (same dad, different moms), Tubbo is 1/2 ram and 1/2 human, Dream is 1/2 human, 1/4 ram, and 1/4 what he and Sapnap think is demon (basically Dream had a human-ram hybrid dad, and a human-demon(?) hybrid mom)

- when Tubbo introduces Dream to his new brother-in-law, Dream feels a bit of a kindred spirit, but he quickly brushes it off

- Dream spends most of his time either with Bad, Skeppy, and Sapnap, or on the sea with Puffy, so Tubbo mostly fends for himself

- Tubbo is more than happy to fend for himself, he actually prefers it most of the time. He doesn't like people fussing over him and sheltering him, so whenever his mood switches and he decides that he does, actually, want some family time, he just appears on sbi’s front porch

- Tubbo first meets Ranboo when he comes to visit after a few months away. No one told him that Tommy was with Mumza for the weekend, so when he arrived at 3am, 2 days before he told Phil he’d be there, he just let himself in and threw himself on top of the sleeping figure in Tommy’s bed, only to be met with a startled enderman screech that woke the whole house

- (Ranboo was in Tommy’s bed because he might not be a part of the official Clingy Duo, but the boy is as clingy as they come. He regularly sleeps in his family’s beds, both when they’re home and when they’re away, because his sense of smell is heightened as an enderman and he needs to be surrounded in their scent when he misses them or when he’s feeling sad (especially because these are the only scents he knows, he doesn’t remember any of the scents from before Techno found him))

Big brothers being friends

- one day, after Tubbo’s near-constant raving about how great the Minecraft family is, Dream agrees to visit with him

- this visit happens to fall during the AE, so the only ones home are Wilbur and Tommy

- Dream and Wilbur take one look at each other and their similar situations in raising their chaotic, problem-child little brothers, and never let go

- the four of them live together for a good 5-6 months before Dream gets a letter and he and Tubbo need to leave

- after this visit, Dream and Wilbur stay in contact, and they visit each other even without their brothers around to drag them along

- I know I said that Wilbur makes fun of Dream for dying his hair, but that’s only in public

- in private, Wilbur confesses to Dream that he also dyes his hair, that his hair is naturally blond and he dyes it darker. After this, Dream and Wilbur start dying their hair together, it becomes something scheduled that they both look forward to immensely each month

- the next time Dream and Tubbo visit together, Wilbur is off with a water spirit who stole his heart (I refuse to write about fish Sally, fight me), and Phil is showing Ranboo some cool builds in his current hardcore world, so it's Techno and Tommy who welcome them in

- Techno starts out pretty hesitant of Dream, but Dream almost instantly is like

- "I'm gonna annoy the blood god into being my best friend"

- and whatever Dream sets his mind to, he achieves

- so the visit sort of ends with Dream and Techno making Tommy and Tubbo promise not to burn the house down, and leaving them home alone to go off to cause some chaos together

Father/son relationships

- As I said earlier, Phil primarily raised Wilbur and Tommy, and Techno primarily raised Ranboo, with Tubbo coming in and out like a feral cat

- to Wilbur and Tommy, Techno is more of a cool uncle who brings them valuable trinkets from his adventures, and they want to be like him one day

- Ranboo and Phil’s relationship is almost exactly the same as Wilbur and Tommy’s relationship with Techno

- when Techno brought Ranboo home, Phil pretty much decided that he had his hands full enough with raising his two chaotic boys, and he declared that it was finders-keepers, Techno found Ranboo, so he gets to raise him

- after L’Manburg, Ghostbur and Phil learn sign language, because the explosion blew out Phil’s hearing in his left ear, and Ghostbur’s so soft-spoken that it’s sometimes really difficult for him to hear his son speaking

For more random hc’s I have about these characters and the characters of the smp in general, check out this post

Some quick tags for people who commented on my post asking who wants this post, thanks for the support guys :’) @anotherweirdohere @haveadayasgreatasyou @jupiterjordan

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metvmorqhoses · 4 years ago

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Hey there! I'd like to hear your thoughts about this. Jkr never put a lot of thought into voldemort as a character did she? The fact that his villainy is oversimplified to be "conceived under a love potion and hence can't love" although there are instances where he has loved. The narrative that is put forth is that every child who was conceived through unhealthy relationships, abandoning parents and difficult circumstances is destined to be incapable of love. (There are problems/issues because of these circumstances but it's not a doomed-to-be-unloved situation)

The abuse he faced or the trauma was never explained and neither was his nature which can be either perceived as arrogance or as self-preservation in his formative years..

I love your blog and analyses btw!🖤

i couldn’t agree more. i don’t know if you are familiar with what i usually write about voldemort as a villain and as an all-around character, but what you are talking about is not only something i always mention when i discuss him in a more complex, adult manner, but much more importantly is deeply linked to what i think about the hp series in general and to the one, major issue i have with it in particular. this is something i consider very important and, honestly, a topic that is never stressed enough: jkr wrote an overly black and white children book, where oversimplification is the fundamental fabric of everything and i find it all very problematic, to say the least.

i understand the series started as a children book and that characterizing so generically and so stereotypically serves as a great advantage to sell copies, since virtually everyone can draw their own conclusions about pretty much every single character of the series and therefore identify, but hp more often than not proudly poses as a moral compass, as a good-vs-evil lecture, aiming to accompany children into adulthood hand in hand (both the books and the movies literally grow in tone, length, targeted audience and themes with the children who are consuming them), so it’s not unfair of me to be concerned about what exactly these morals have been teaching children and then teens (myself included) for more than twenty years about reality, even as a fantasy series.

i often say the characterizations of its heroes is the thing that scares me the most about the hp series. the entirely of the “good guys” in these books lack basic normal human reactions. they all went through hell one way or another, harry constantly witnessing every last one of his family relations dying/growing up abused and hated/discovering he was raised literally to be slaughtered by the man he looked up to the most, ginny being possessed/forced to kill/almost murdered in tender age by the literal devil and whose trauma is never mentioned again, hermione having to erase the memories of her parents - you know, the list goes on and on. the one thing that all of them have in common tho, is their non-consequence to horror. and that’s wildly unhuman. aside from a little sadness, some stubborn dementors chasing bad memories and sporadic plot-serving nightmares, none of the heroes is really effected or damaged by what happens to them. when normal people would have spiritual crisis, ptsd, depression, manic episodes, you name it, jkr is feeding us the idea that really good, brave, strong, valuable people remain unaffected by trauma and that only the weak, wrong, damaged and therefore evil ones are. and i find it beyond disturbing.

paradoxically enough, voldemort is the only prominent example (probably along with snape and draco, but in a very different way) of “normal�� human behavior when a child is exposed that much to trauma and abuse in tender age. jkr never really explains voldermort beyond her rhetorical “he’s wickedness personified” motto, yet the little characterization she gave him is entirely built around trauma - a trauma that she openly equates to evil. voldemort is a child born out of rape (there’s a metaphorical love potion and therefore he’s unable to love - leaving aside the idiocy of it, how sick is that? as if a child should carry the faults of his parents, as if all children born from rape were emotionally disabled or soon to be psychopaths! what exactly she wanted to prove with this point will forever be beyond me), a child abandoned to abuse and poverty in the middle of ww2, a child i’m sure shunned for his magical powers if not worse, a child without a single resource on the planet but himself, a child to whom no one, ever, not even later in the wizarding world, ever gave a helping hand or genuine affection (he was literally sent back to a world war because “no one can live in the school in the summer”, i mean!). of course he had to react to survive, of course all that left him scarred, because it didn’t leave him annihiliated! tom and harry share the condition of the orphan, but while harry was loved by his dead parents, glorified and rich and adored, voldemort was unwanted, discriminated against, bullied, poor and ignored. had dumbledore treated tom as he had treated harry (not that he treated harry that well if we really analyze it, but still), had his mother not abandoned him and died, jkr herself said lord voldemort would have probably never existed.

is this a correct way to stereotype human nature? is this a good message to give children? the only plausible human in there is the psychopathic super villain who is physically unable to love?

i like to think voldermort differently. i do think he could, of couse he could, actually love - as we all can if we allow ourselves to. he’s too complex, too intelligent, too whole as a character to lack anything, both for the good and for the bad. i like to think that maybe amortentia (aka the entirety of his early life experiences) left him dissociated and unable to *understand* his feelings in general and love in particular. maybe he didn’t dare to love anyone. maybe he dared once.

i like to think this way because the way jkr characterizes is nothing short of a disgrace.

the question people ask me the most is precisely this, if i think i’m giving voldemort much more depth than the author actually intended in the first place. my answer is always the same - yes, of course i do. voldemort is beautiful the way i imagine him, as a real plausible person, as a deeply flawed and multifaceted and scarred human being who turned to darkness in search for a home and a reason and that had ultimately found one, as terrible as it was. he certainly deserved more, from a literary point of view. yet i understand it was convenient and safe for jkr to only ever play with his godly, evil, black and white facade.

#lord voldemort #hp #tom marvolo riddle #bellamort #asks/replies #anon #one and one thousand stories lis told #thank you dear <3

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ethereaiin · 4 years ago

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Jinx | genshin impact

synopsis; you've been a magnet for spirits all throughout your life spared without a moment's peace. your meeting with him was fate itself finally fulfilling an unspoken wish, though you wondered if there was a lot more in store for you than just mere friendship.

features; you, chongyun and a bit of xingqiu.

[modern au]

extra; originally a 2 shot.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

To you, silence was a rarity.

The world, as you knew it, was rife with noise and chaos that no one other than yourself seemed to be aware of. Amongst wandering the same plane as the living, the dead could speak and it was only you who heard their voices. Your head was constantly filled with their screams and soon enough, peace was something you could only dream of having a moment of.

From childhood, you were subjected to visions of the unseen and the voices of the dead that spoke of things you could never truly understand at the time. Your mother and father never refuted the things you claimed you saw and instead they only smiled down at you with a look of misplaced pride. To them, you were the culmination of all their and their family’s efforts to recreate the glory that once belonged to your family name.

It was no secret that your lineage was famously infamous for its connection with all things supernatural. Mediums and spiritualists used to make up a better part of your kin and although they were now a dying breed, you were one of the few born in the newest generation who were naturally gifted with the ability to commune and attract the dead.

The so-called ‘gift’ your parents often revered you for was nothing short of a burden.

It was because of this gift there was a constant stream of voices and spirits around you, and in turn, your mind was never truly at rest. You couldn’t sleep most nights and the dark circles that lined the underside of your eyes were only a small testament to the countless nights you reluctantly spent awake. The accompanying migraines were the cherry on top of your growing list of problems along with your almost crippling addiction to painkillers that definitely would have raised your physician’s brow if they’d heard about the amount you ingested in a single day. Still, somehow your pallid complexion and lifeless gaze never seemed to discourage your parents from pressing you into embracing your abilities and rambling on about the honor you’d one day return to your family name.

Aside from your unwanted ability to attract things not of this world, you attempted to live a relatively normal life- whatever that meant for someone like you. You went to school like any other teen your age, though your days usually consisted of dozing off in the back of the class or staring at the floating figures roaming about your desk. You often forgot that normal people were not privy to the voices of the dead and you’d usually find yourself talking back to them aloud. It was this reason alone that you didn’t have many friends, though you never seemed to mind the lack of living company. If anything, you thought of your solitude as a blessing in disguise. There wasn’t anyone to question your odd behavior nor did you ever feel the need to explain the constant odd occurrences that would happen around you.

Still, despite your intentions of not socializing with anyone to avoid burdening them with your problems, you somehow managed to make at least one friend.

Well, you wouldn’t go so far as to call him your friend. Not only was it extremely presumptuous of you, but you also couldn’t wish companionship with you onto anyone. Yet, Xingqiu, in spite of all your claims that he was nothing more than an acquaintance, assured you that the relationship you two shared was most definitely friendship.

You were more than well aware of his true intentions. It was obvious after your first meeting with him that he was more interested in your rumored predicament than he was in you. Much like anyone who held intrigue in the supernatural and all things strange, he wanted to see if the rumors were true; if you were really able to call forth the spirits of the dead like everyone said.

While it was still a mystery to you how the rumor was somewhat accurate to the truth of your situation, you didn’t think too much of it. Most people were skeptics and so they only concluded the rumors about you to be just that. Nothing but rumors. The few people who did believe them, most of them being classmates who were witnesses to the strange things around you, avoided you like the plague. That was the extent of it all other than Xingqiu’s casual prying that you’d deflect with practiced ease in a change of subject. You would say your life was easygoing and days droned on with little to nothing major happening.

Until you ruined it all with one minor slip-up.

Most of the strange things that happened around you could be chalked up to nothing more than coincidences. Of course, if anyone put a little more thought into it they’d see it was all connected to you in some way, but all of the incidents that happened in public were minor. Whether it was a desk moving slightly, a person getting their shoulder touched, or an inexplicable breeze; all of it could be rationalized as pure coincidence.

That was until you made the mistake of communing with a particularly violent spirit while still in school that things took a slight turn for the worse.

You were smart enough to make sure to wait until the after-hours of school to begin your séance, even double-checking to make sure there wasn’t anyone occupying the hallway your class was in. While you never really liked making an effort in talking with spirits that would do you harm, this one’s antics were beginning to intrude on your comfort zone and was bringing too much awareness to its existence. Not only did it like pushing your classmates as they leave or enter the class, but it also enjoyed pulling harshly on chairs and incessantly knocking on the thin walls. When its activity was beginning to pick up a little too much over the course of a month, undoubtedly due to the energy you unconsciously fed it with, you knew it was time to step in. It was tied to the school and so your chances of baiting it back home where a communion wouldn’t be seen by the public eye were slim. It didn’t help that it was stubborn on top of its knack for violence. At the time, you knew your only choice was to take a chance and speak to it where someone could accidentally overhear you, or leave it to wreak more havoc and potentially still expose you on a larger scale. At least if someone saw you and another rumor leaked out, you still had some room to deny the claims and keep your secret intact. The moment you stepped back into your classroom after checking the others in the same hall, you made your choice.

The conversation you had with it was rough at the start. It was always like that when it came to remaining spirits of the dead which was why you hated speaking to them in the first place. Throughout your exchange, it loudly protested against giving in to your demands to control it, and just when you were close to convincing it to leave; the door of your classroom swings open and it’s then that your world metaphorically shatters into tiny bits of nothingness.

You can clearly remember the look on Xingqiu’s face as he stood in the threshold of your classroom’s door. His amber colored eyes were wide and his lips gaped into an expression of surprise. He obviously didn’t expect to see you lounging about in your classroom well after school already ended and you didn’t expect him to burst in through the door as if he were ready to fight whatever lied on the other side. Your reaction to his added presence was instantaneous and so was the spirit’s. The sound of crashing desks as it made its way towards your friend in the doorway was loud and almost unbearable. No matter how much you screamed for it to stop and even attempting to grab at it as you tried to manifest its physical form, there was no intervening. Your powers, untrained and imperfect, could do nothing for you and the moment your fingers slipped right through the spirits translucent form, you fully realized the extent of your mistake.

The thought that ran through your head at first was ‘why was he here?’ You hated yourself for thinking of ever blaming the victim in a circumstance that you technically caused. If it weren’t for you, there wouldn’t have been a spirit tied to the second place you frequent the most and if it weren’t for you Xingqiu wouldn’t have been pinned to a wall by an unseen force. All of this was caused by you and the second thought that ran across your mind was self-deprecation over your less than ideal choices as you hurriedly made your way towards your friend’s writhing form. Before you could even touch him or even attempt to once again use your abilities in to once again try and pry the spirit off of him, the figure suddenly disappeared; bursting into thin air as if it were never there to begin with.

“Xingqiu, what happened?” The sound of a new voice lit with a tinge of worry but still remaining steadily composed, attracted your attention, and your gaze lifted away from the sight of your friend to meet the new presence of someone you didn’t know.

At the time, you didn’t realize that this person’s existence would one day become so important to you. You didn’t think about how his mere presence was enough to drive the never-ending whispers of the decease to a halt or how you no longer could see the shadowy figures lurking in your peripherals. Instead, your thoughts were messily scattered between assuring Xingqiu’s safety and making up an excuse as to why you were trying to reason with a ghost as if it were human. The peace you were craving for since the day you first heard the wail of a lost spirit was right there, embodied in an unknown sixteen-year-old boy, and you couldn’t even see it at that very moment.

Xingqiu, unfettered by the assault, merely held a knowing smile on his lips as he picked himself up from the classroom floor. You would have thought he would have been afraid like so many of the others that unknowingly interacted with the spirits. You thought he would have been afraid of you. He was smart. Smart enough to put two and two together to come to an astounding conclusion that the rumors were right, or at least held some truth. He had to have been aware of what you were doing alone in the classroom and he must have heard your shouts for the spirit to stop when it charged towards him, yet he said nothing.

At least, that’s what you hoped for.

“You. . . you can see them, can’t you?”

It was hard to remember what his expression was at that moment as your eyes were trained on the floor in a desperate attempt to disassociate yourself with the downward spiraling situation you were in. You couldn’t bring yourself to deny the claim as he saw you. He knew and you knew he knew. Denying at this point would have been foolish and if the silent stare of his friend who now stood next to him told you anything, you were definitely in something akin to an interrogation. Xingqiu has always been stubborn, especially when it came to your situation and now that he had something to go on, you knew he wouldn’t back down until you gave him answers.

That was the day you finally told someone of your strange gift. Although your parents loved to go on and on about your abilities, you have never spoken about them aloud to anyone. You wanted to bury it deep within yourself and act as if it never existed to begin with as a sorry attempt to create some kind of normalcy for yourself. Saying it out loud in that quietly buzzing classroom made it feel all too real. Explaining your magnetism for the dead to those two silently staring boys made you realize that maybe you were never meant to live a normal life. It was a cold realization. One that made your body feel heavy and your fingers tremble at your side as you swallowed down what felt like a thousand needles.

The empty feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach slowly engulfed you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Contrary to popular belief, you were not all that knowledgeable about the world beyond your own.

You were aware of the basics; the floating figures always lurking around you were the spirits of the dead and you alone were the only person able to see them, and the constant voices were their cries to return to life; a wish no one other than gods could grant. Your parents never explained much of anything to you other than the expectations they held in your abilities and what they hoped you would do with them in the future. Most of it pertaining to you profiting off the grief of others which you considered to be completely immoral. No matter how much your parents claimed you were 'wasting' your gift, you could never bring yourself to use it the way they wanted you to.

It was because of your refusal to budge in your stance against them that you essentially refused to learn anything from your grandmother; the only other person in your family to have the same abilities as you, and the one who pressured you the most to give in. You knew from the start that you were seen as nothing other than a new source of money to your family, the greed was clear in your parents eyes and your grandmother hadn't differed from them. She wanted you to become a psychic like her, which consisted of bringing people into a small dark room while she 'channeled' the spirit of their loved ones before charging them thousands of dollars for a few measly seconds. Those people's misery was real and to know that your grandmother wasn't helping them out of the goodness of her heart but rather out of selfishness was more sickening than you originally thought. It was cruel the first time you saw it and you never went back to visit her ever again after that.

All of your life you believed it was in your best interests to just ignore that part of you. To bury it deep within your heart never to surface again until the day you died. You didn't like the part of you that differed from the rest of the world and you strived to reject it in order to save yourself a headache. Though that part of you that you desperately wanted to ignore was easier said than done. After all, you can't bury dead people who have no body. Nor could you shut them up.

Your confrontation with both Chongyun and Xingqiu essentially forced you into their friend group. Their knowledge of you was far too much to leave unsupervised and you were sure the mischievous look on Xingqiu's face couldn't have meant anything good. While having friends wasn't something you were ever against, you also couldn't deny the loneliness you experienced since the start of the rumors circulating the school. The obvious avoiding of contact with you done by your classmates still hurt no matter how much you told yourself it didn't. Frankly, their offer was something akin to a shining light and you gladly took it. You were delighted with the outcome, the shared lunch with both boys plus their friends, whom you never met before, was refreshing and felt new, but most importantly; you felt normal. Though the closer you got to the both of them, Chongyun more so than Xingqiu, you noticed things.

Chongyun was different from you. You could tell the moment his eyes met yours the first time you met in that wrecked classroom afterschool, and again when he ran into you in the hall the next day. He was different from you because there was still a brightness in his gaze that had yet to be snuffed out.

You couldn't accurately call him the cheerful type, but he was far more amiable than you. The brightness you saw in him not only pertained to his stellar personality, a feat you were witnessed to during many lunches alongside him and Xingqiu, it applied to the purity he seemingly wore like a badge of honor. To you, he appeared nothing short of untouched by the unseen evils of this world; the same evil that writhed and crept in the deepest pit of your being.

Maybe for that reason alone you felt inexplicably drawn to his presence.

Around him, you noticed that world seemed to fall a little more quieter than what you were normally used to. The silence of the dead was indeed deafening and the lack of their being around you made rooms feel emptier. At first, it was hard adjusting to the peace he brought you; something you couldn't believe you were thinking when you were first searching for a way to gain it. Your interest in him only continued to grow knowing that he too was apart of the same world as you.

How could he appear so unfazed by it all? How could he continue living on in a world where it wasn't occupied by just the living, but the dead as well? How had he not been crushed by the weight of it all? You thought he was strong to have seen what you've seen and not feel as if human life was so pathetically insignificant and carry on with a perceived unbreakable resolve.

While you both were apart of the same world involving the supernatural, your lives couldn't have been any different. He was raised as an exorcist; trained from birth to deliver people from the clutches of unseen evil and you. . . You were never raised to see the good in others. Your family was the prime example of that.

There was a part of him that you couldn't help but see yourself in. Of course, you could never be as radiant as him, it was merely only a 'what if' scenario you often thought of. If your parents were anything like his, thinking only for the good of others, would you be just like him? Though the thought always ends short at that. There was no way you could be like him; to see the world through eyes unblinded by the ugliness of humanity. He was witness to both sides, the good and bad, yet he continued to believe in what he thought was right against all odds. He was stronger than you because where he would have the will to stand strong against your parents, you could do nothing more than meekly refuse.

Your initial admiration for him might have been the reason why you began looking at him more closely. It was a vain attempt to understand just what it was about him that exuded strength when he appeared as if any little thing could knock him over. When he learned of the inborn link you held to the supernatural, he was quick to tell you of his. As impassive as his face appeared, you could clearly see the excitement he spoke with when it came to exorcisms and the pride in his eyes when it came to the subject of his family. He spoke as if there wasn't anything he wished to hide from you and that hopeful side of you that wanted to cling to the small connection you two shared hoped that he felt the same.

Maybe it was because you essentially laid out your life story to two strangers that he felt the need to share his own, but you liked to think that there was a possibility he too was looking for someone who could truly understand the world he lived in. To the both of you, there couldn't have been anyone better suited to the role than each other.

There were sides to him you were witness to, sides you would never give up for the world. The twinkle in his light blue eyes and the slight twitch of his lips when he was close to giving into one of Xiangling's antics, among others. These were moments you treasured. Each of them were stored away in your mind to recall again another day. He was your personal sunshine; the one person you could rely on to always say the right things and although you could never tell him that aloud, mainly out concern for embarrassing him and unintentionally triggering his condition, you like to think that you'd get the chance one day. For now you'd count on actions to convey the unspoken things you weren't brave enough to say.

As the days pass with you and him side by side, you only wonder what's instore for the future. For once you found your small slice of heaven. The visions and noise stops when you're next to him and although his ability of warding off spirits did nothing but peeve him, you couldn't be happier. He was the normalcy you sought for; the silence you yearned for and the reprieve you never knew you needed. Next to him, for just a moment, you think you could become something of a regular girl.

You could wait for him for all of eternity if you had to. One day he'd realize the secretive smiles with reddened cheeks and the slight graze of your hand against his were not accidents and meant far more than just mere friendship.

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lifeexperience · 4 years ago

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Maribat March 2021 - Half time

In my AO3 account I am also updating the 'A playboy billionaire, an ambassador and the secret love-child' title, and sometimes I add(ed) commentary why I write something the way I do.

Masterlist

From the last fifty days here is all the plus note:

First day

In Red Robin (2009-2011) comics Vicki Vale was a little bit too noisy for her own good, that's why I used her personal annoyance against Bruce Wayne in this story.

Third day

Vanessa Rios was an assistant district attorney in Gotham in the Robin (1993-2009) run. Here I am using her as the Wayne's legal team head. Tamara Fox, Lucius Fox's daughter, is friends with Tim Drake in Red Robin (2009-2011) comics and here too. Also she is an intern with the HR department who knows about the BatFam alteregos.

Fifth day

In the comics, Alfred always followed Bruce to his 'trips' (in 'Batman and Son' to London, 'Batman & Robin Annual' to an scavenger hunt, in 'Batman Inc.' to every country where they found representatives...) However because of Damian's unpredictable behaviour he stayed at the manor with the children in this story.

Sixth day

So Young Justice thing is a little complicated to me if I dare to say something about it. There was the 'Young Justice: The Secret' and its sequels. Then there were 'The New52' and 'DC Rebirth' era, plus the animation show. And they all are kind of okay..ish, furthermore I wanted to keep the principles like the main members (Tim Drake, Connor Kent, Bart Allen and Cassie Sandsmark), however I never liked their too childish behavior in some of the works (and the mixing with 'The Titans). So in this story, here, they are more adult..ish, but more relaxed and cheerful than 'The Titans' ever was (like in comics, not in the shows).

Eighth day

In the 'Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir' show they showed Lila as a manipulator without any remorse, which got me to think she has antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). I am not a doctor but I had some basic lesson in psychology, and I have a natural curiosity about things so I always research everything. With diagnosed ASPD the person has to be older then 18, however I read its symptoms can show up in childhood, and it can lead to an earlier diagnosis like 14-15 years old early.

In the case of Lila she deceives people and uses them (✓). Don't makes long term plans or thinking through about her behavior (✓), however has a set on some goal she wants to achieve (✓). She has a sense of superiority above of her classmates and adults in her environment (✓), nevertheless does't have any remorse or guilt to mistreat them (✓). Uses charisma and her fake charming persona to get something or someone (✓), however didn't value them more than tools or prizes (✓).

I didn't see any real aggressive behavior from Lila beside akumatizations (✓), but on its own I think it's enough evidence, that she has this disorder (and not the many that she claimed). In normal aggressive way Lila didn't show herself (like physical violence, loud angry outbursts, big fits in front of everyone) yet, rather she uses Akumatization to hide that kind of behavior (when Adrien tried to stand up she became willingly Chameleon, or the Heroe's Day, or Oni-Chan). So her Akumatised forms and helping to Hawkmoth are the evidences that she has aggressive behavior, however they are not the classic forms (but we also can remember the threatening in the bathroom, but I think that was more intimidation and showing her superiority then pure aggressiveness).

And I wanted that recreate and strengthen this 'fact' a little bit so it would be more obvious than in the show.

Ninth day

In the comics there are so many take on Bruce Wayne it's kind of hard to count it. We could list the Batman persona, when he kind of let his children do what they want within his no-kill-rule (like living alone at fourteen with bunch of other teenager - 'Teen Titans' or 'Young Justice' or as it looks like to go rough - Robin, Red Hood). And there is the obvious martyr-parent take, when he has to know everything about his children, but he is always silent about the important things ('Death of the family' - 'Batman and Robin: Born to kill' - 'The Hunt for Robin'). And one of my favorites the worried-tired father take, when he is kind of showing his emotions and trying to love his kids ('Super Sons' - 'Robin Rises' - 'Prelude to the Wedding: Nightwing vs. Hush' ...).

And I decided to use the last with a more active take from the first (like he lets everyone do their thing but he is monitoring them within reasons). In the comics there are many accusations about being someones father (with Julie Madison or Mariah Shelley), and here in my take he is trying to be responsible (for the sake of his children, mainly for Damian and Jason) and checks every claim out personally (so they also can do DNS test).

Tenth day

Alya Césaire is a complicated someone in the show. At first she is portrayed as a fierce helper for the protagonist, Marinette. She is stubborn and reckless, but royal to her best friends.

Then came Lila and the makers sharpened her stubborn tunnel vision. This I saw it first at the 'Lady Wifi' episode, when she clearly didn't remember about the first day, when Ladybug saved Chloé (or ignored it). After that she always fixated on 'Adrienette' (or everything else if it's interesting - Dark Cupid) when the girl, herself had other things to do (Princess Fragrance, Puppeteer 2, Reflektdoll 2, Timebreaker). So it was not that big surprise when her tunnel vision turned to Lila, and she (and everybody in her class) forgot about that they all met Jagged Stone and with his crocodile already.

Yeah, it's all true, however unlike Lila, Alya didn't show any other big social flaw. And she is 14 years old and middle child, which is kind of important in someone personality. She has to be a mature figure and a little child at the same time in her sibling's eyes. She has to compete attention in their parents eyes and be smart about it.

Moreover if we look at the Collège Françoise Dupont's students, they are all spoiled, not just Chloé or Lila or Adrien. Yes, they are not that bad like the three, but they are all sheltered to a certain degree. Their family don't have financial problems (famous chef, designers, mayor, famous bakery, curator in the most famous museum, police officer, famous pantomime, ...), plus they are all in a prestigious school where they can't meet people with everyday problems (and rich spoiled kid is not an everyday occurrence in my country). And beside some vision problems (Max, Sabrina) they are all healthy and the first time to meet a disability is when Lila arrived. So it's natural if they don't really know how to interact right with her (putting aside that whole lie thing).

And I think they, especial Alya, need first a little life experience, before they could be called responsible about their acts. And here I am trying to write it this kind of way, where they are all flawed, but they can learn from it.

Human being can be shallow and not perfect. These children only heard one perspective from Lila, and another from Marinette. In the show the makers not exactly specified about how well the classmates know Marinette and how depth Marinette and Alya friendship is, so there is already some trust issue.

Like yeah all of they are going to concerts, cinema, each others, however they didn't show so far any serious conservation between them (maybe the only exception is Adrien-Marinette combo). Until this year when Adrien and Alya got transferred in the class, the classmates don't even help Marinette with Chloé bullying. And one year friendship - how beautiful is it tho - is not that depth and stable, especially with that many secrets they have. And Lila 'charming' personality came into this still fragile relationship at the right time to prove this.

I am not saying that the makers is doing good to simplifies the relationships. Because rather they missed so many ziccers for the sake of promote new hero designs and the overwritten romantic scene, it's physical hurting me. But they are right that we are talking sheltered-traumatized-too naive kids, who sometimes had unearned magic powers (looking at Chloé, Alya, Kim).

And I didn't ever going the length of mentioning the adult characters. It's an other kind of wormhole.

Marinette was the only one who openly disobeyed Lila's wants. She stands up against her lies in the public so she is a real obstacle for Lila. While Adrien is only trying in the background without any witness (I don't say it's bad, because with some case it's better, but not here), and the boy is too valuable to Lila.

Lila already showed in the series she didn't stop with the lies and she is brave enough to ruin someone carrier with them (Marinette - 'Ladybug', Nathalie and Gorilla - 'Oni-Chan', Alya - 'Volpina'). And Adrien watched all of it in the front seat, and he kind of knows that Lila's main target here to discredit and broke Marinette/Ladybug (and Adrien, himself also, but it's his perspective and he is very sheltered and naive about it).

And this story she got another one to ruin. Bruce Wayne, himself. And as her fake charming side melts away in her anger as she is focusing more and more on her targets.

Eleventh day

Speed Force is one of the Seven Forces of the Universe. It grants the power of the speedsters. And some of them merged with it (for example Barry Allen). Speed Force has a direct connection to the time flow and with the Multiverse (or now Omniverse). The biggest event of it is the Flashpoint (2011) which started the New52 era. And Batman doesn't want to mix this kind of force with a really mysterious ancient magic.

Nightrunner's first appearance was in 2011 in Detective Comics Annual #12. Within the Batman Incorporated line Bruce recruited Bilal Asselah, French-Algerian citizen to represent Batman in Paris. Here he is a mentor/background assistant to the Team Miraculous and a representative of Batman Inc.

Fourteenth day

Wang Fu is not the most mature character in the show and I think it says it all. Being an 186 years old is the Great Guardian after he accidentally destroyed the temple, he is kind of shameful and amateur. And if we contrasted him with Batman... yeah. Batman is NOT happy and takes the control from the old master.

Fifteenth day

I know Cyborg, alias Victor Stone is currently shown as a founding member of the Justice League (since 2011), however I am prefer him more in the Titans. And it's not just because of the animation show form 2003, but also in the comics he is more himself with the first Titans then with the -all mighty- Justice League. And I also wanted him to have a little cameo in this story because in the Super Sons (2017-) he was kind of like a babysitter for the boys. And to me it's kind of funny how many times the bats short circuited him (Robin Rises, Super Sons: Parent Trap, ...).

Sixteenth day

Damian Wayne is a complicated character. For ten years he was teached to kill. He only learnt about his mother at eight. He only learnt about his father at ten. Thalia used him for anything from power play to plotting someone death. Bruce loves him, but he is so moronic about his own emotions it's kind of painful to read sometimes. And there is the thing where Damian is never enough, his mother cloned him (Heretic), his father has other wards (mainly Red Robin). Dick Grayson went incognito spying when the boy had finally a healthier relationship (Grayson: The Superspy). His best friend, Jon Kent was suddenly older then him (2018 Superman #16). Alfred was killed in front of him (2016 Batman #77). Yeah, Damian is a jerk, but he has every right to be a jerk in my opinion. And I wanted that recreate here as Lila is a liar and threatening his 'only' position as a blood son. His only weapon to prevent it to have a fit and doing what was teached to him.

Fulltime

#maribat march #half time closure #maribat #ml fanfic #analysis #character analysis #it's long #2021

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bwprowl · 4 years ago

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Me vs. The Mitchells vs. The Machines

The Mitchells vs. The Machines is a really cool movie. Seriously! It’s the Spider-Verse crew continuing to be at the top of their game, doing their damnedest to elevate and evolve 3D film animation in a way apart from the ongoing Disneyfied edge-sanding seen elsewhere. Several sequences, especially the final fight scene at the end, are absolutely jaw-dropping. A lot of the writing of the movie is also genuinely clever, with some cool tricks of weaving in Chekov’s Guns that you don’t even realize WERE Chekov’s Guns until they’re deployed, but then make perfect sense. And I also just have to say there’s something oddly heartening about a movie that does a lot to target Millenials in terms of nostalgia, but not so much via our shows and movies and music the way other project might go about, but specifically by tapping the internet meme culture of the early-00’s that’s so media-unique to that emergent generation. There’s some genuine heart visible in so many of the levels of how this thing was made that I can understand its touting as an instant classic and the waves of praise and popularity that have followed its release.

Unfortunately, I can’t so unilaterally praise this movie, mostly because I can NOT stop thinking about how poorly-implemented and mis-framed its central familial conflict is.

Oh yeah spoilers for this movie I guess

So I’ll need to detour at first and talk about A Goofy Movie, which isn’t much of an issue for me since I fucking love A Goofy Movie. And watching The Mitchells vs. The Machines my initial takeaway was a pleasant observation that someone had basically grafted A Goofy Movie to The World’s End, which could have made for an extremely fun time for me. A Goofy Movie, so it goes, centers on the conflict between a father and child trying to understand each other, spurred on by the father conscripting the child into an impromptu road-trip which the child initially resents but eventually leans into as a vehicle for understanding as the family members open up to each other and end with a greater appreciation for their familial bond as well as healthier, more open lines of communication. There are comical misunderstandings, dramatic misunderstandings, and escalating Wacky Adventures that keep the trip feeling suitably cinematic in scope. And as The Mitchells vs. The Machines continued on, I kept finding myself rounding back to that comparison and asking “Why am I not getting into this as much as I do A Goofy Movie?”

It turns out to be a point of motivation, actually. In A Goofy Movie, Goofy dragooning Max into the cross-country fishing trip is immediately borne out of his (however misinformed) desire to keep his son from going down a wrong, potentially delinquent or criminal path. Goofy has concerns about the lessened connection and communication with Max, sure, but that’s a symptom of his inability to communicate his actual worries about Max’s behavior to him, not the sum total of the problem he feels needs fixing. Goofy is under the impression there are genuine problems Max is going through, and while he’s got the actual particulars wrong, he’s not really that far off, since Max still IS the kind of kid to elaborately hijack a school function or make up extravagant lies to get attention from the girl he likes rather than just talking to her and asking her out like a normal human-dog-person. Goofy’s objective is firmly centered on helping Max for Max’s sake, and he’s only taking up a few weeks out of Max’s summer and causing him to miss a single party in order to do it.

I lay all that out so you can try to understand my headspace coming at critiquing The Mitchells vs. The Machines and negatively viewing its own take on a plot concept I ostensibly love by default. The problem, as said, is one of motivation. In The Mitchells, Rick’s dissatisfaction with his relationship with his daughter Katie is purely that: Dissatisfaction with their relationship. Katie herself is, by all accounts, doing spectacularly. She’s got a healthy relationship with friends and other family members, she’s gotten accepted into a prestigious film school, and her YouTube account seems to pull pretty keen numbers (With all the tech jokes in this movie it’s a wonder there’s never a riff on her shilling NordVPN or Raid Shadow Legends). The conflict between father and daughter is purely a case of them growing apart in her teen years demonstrably because Rick has no understanding of her current passions and makes no effort to do so, which leads to him having consistently questioned and doubted her ability to succeed in her field. The film frames the impromptu road-trip as his attempt to ‘fix’ the issues between them, but the only thing broken by the presentation of the story is Rick’s approach to parenting in the first place. He could easily have made Katie warm to him on the way out by replacing or paying for the laptop he broke and throwing her a subscription to her YouTube channel, but then the movie would be shorter and we wouldn’t be able to pretend the conflict was anything other than his own pursuit of self-centered actualization.

That’s the other issue, of course, the way The Mitchells vs. The Machines consistently rounds back to the point that Katie is somehow shouldering half the responsibility for the father/daughter communication breakdown. But as stated above, it really has hardly anything to do with her. Katie’s succeeding on her own terms, and the only outreach she would theoretically need to do to her dad would be to make HIM feel better, something he could do himself if he’d only actually pay attention to the cool videos she keeps trying to show him and not constantly deciding that HE knows that SHE will fail. It’s a fundamentally one-sided conflict from what we’re shown, and yet the other members of the Mitchell family continuously treat Katie like she needs to accommodate her father’s personal whims and not hurt his feelings despite the fact that he’s the one who went behind her back and canceled her flight, even forcing her to miss her first week of college (!) simply because he felt sorry for himself that they didn’t like the same things anymore. Again, Katie’s doing great, it’s Rick that decides to make his problem the entire family’s problem, and while I’m going to hesitate to refer to this behavior as out-and-out abusive, it is still absurdly selfish and pointedly poor parenting.

The movie seems to nominally strive for balance in the conflict, not making it entirely Katie’s job to fix her dad’s hurt feelings, and indeed having a whole sequence where he realizes what a Big Jerk he’s been about not trying to understand or support her passions, and resolving to actually Make An Effort moving forward. The problem is that this is still framed as one half of the equation, as Katie supposedly gets to understand where her dad is coming from, which...makes her feel better about all the times he said she would fail and so she should rely on and appreciate him more? And the reason that’s a fundamental issue is annoying, because it means we have to talk about Rick’s Stupid Fucking Cabin.

Look, I hate doing this. I personally try very hard to keep in the mindset that stories are stories and things happen in them because they are stories. I am loathe to attempt picking apart the points of particular plot points, but the problem is that this Stupid Fucking Cabin is positioned as the heart of the humanity of the entire movie, yet it hinges on a sequence of decisions that no actual human being would ever come by. First off, do you have any idea how long it takes to BUILD a home like that, let alone as one guy apparently doing it himself? Rick spent the better part of his twenties building this big Fucking Stupid Cabin to fulfill his lifelong dream of ‘Living in the woods’, only for his wife to get pregnant once it was finished, leading to him just dropping like that? Was there no planning in this family? Was Katie an accident that Rick immediately was this endeared to? I mean, he totally seems like a pro-lifer. But then why do they need to sell the Stupid Fucking Cabin on account of a kid coming along? How were Rick and Linda planning on living out their lives there if not with resources that could support them as well as a kid or two? Rick could have just raised his kids in the woods in his Stupid Fucking Cabin and they would have stood a better chance at turning out like little duplicates of himself and his own interests like he clearly wanted. That’s to say nothing of this sequence of events being framed as a ‘failure’, despite that fact that Rick handily succeeded at what he set out to do, only to turn around and abandon the thing he succeeded at himself on seemingly the same sort of impulsive whim that leads to him dragging his whole family on a road trip because he doesn’t understand YouTube. There are motivating factors to these decisions he made that could inform the whole context of this supposedly tragic backstory, but we aren’t privy to anything resembling them, and the result is a plot point that seemingly only exists to make Katie (and the audience) feel bad for Rick in the third act of the movie.

The real answer is the ultimate assertion of this thing by the finale, that Katie should be ‘grateful’ to Rick for his ‘sacrifice’ of his dream that supposedly allowed her to be in the place she is now. Except Katie had no part in Rick’s bizarre impulsive choice to build a Stupid Fucking Cabin then sell it as soon as a kid popped out so he, I guess, could feel some sense of important familial contribution. That’s to say nothing of the point about parental figures who make grand, sweeping gestures nominally for the good of their kids, but are effectively and emotionally unavailable in the day-to-day engagements of their lives. Because unlike Goofy in A Goofy Movie, Rick isn’t actually doing what he’s doing for Katie’s sake. Her motivation for most of the movie is to move away from home and go to college, a completely normal-ass thing that children do. Any of Rick’s outreach or efforts to ‘fix’ relationships and situations are purely for the sake of his own hurt feelings, and the way Katie’s mother and brother consistently push her into going along with them only highlights the overt way this whole family’s problems are hung up on the insecurities of of this single stubborn jerk. But then, that’s my other major misgiving with The Mitchells vs. The Machines: Its expected exaltation of the default biological family as some hallowed unit for which it is a tragedy to fall into any degree of dysfunction. This is with pointed dismissal towards the idea of Found Family, seen as a distraction, an obstacle to Katie realizing who her TRUE people are, and coming around to a sense of fulfillment because she managed to massage her dad’s ego for long enough that he stopped being totally dismissive of the things that brought her joy. You see, Found Families are fun, but they aren’t REAL or SPECIAL because they already accept and appreciate you for who you are, unlike these people you’re biologically obligated to share living space with for 18+ years whom you have to forge bonds with through varying degrees of communication breakdowns and compromises in self-agency.

With all that in mind, it highlights some of the smaller issues in the movie’s setup as well. This is perhaps petty, but jeez was I annoyed with the film’s framing of The Mitchells as this ~craaaazy~ ~weeeeiiiird~ family which included such outlandish quirks as ‘Dad who doesn’t understand technology’ and ‘Young boy who really likes dinosaurs’. And the wishy-washy tone of the familial conflict is echoed in the ‘The Machines’ part of the plot, which mostly led to me sitting on edge throughout the whole film as I wondered how it was going to come down on the subject of those kids and their darn smartphones. It ultimately doesn’t go full anti-technology, which makes sense given how much of Katie’s character revolves around using the stuff, to say nothing of the predilections of the people who actually, uh, made this movie. But the most it can manage is a halfhearted “Maybe unregulated big tech bad?” which even then is undercut, mostly I assume because of the various big tech companies involved in producing and streaming this thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m overall glad it doesn’t go full "durr hburr technology is bad fire is scary and thomas edison was a witch", but a lack of any insight or ideas on that front means that the familial relationship element is the only conceptual element it really has to stand on, and I just spent over 1800 words breaking down why that fundamentally didn’t work!

It’s an aggravating situation, because lord did I want to love The Mitchells vs. The Machines. It’s gorgeous, it’s got some clever bits in the writing, and it can honestly sling a punchline like nobody’s business, there are some KILLER jokes in there. But it just became impossible all the way through the end for me to engage with the heart of the movie, its central connective conflict, on the terms it wanted me to. Now it’s admittedly possible that, perhaps like Rick Mitchell, that’s my problem. I’ve seen a lot of love for this movie from my peers, and it does make me question my own projections: I don’t want to get TOO personal on main, but I admit that it’s entirely possible that people who’ve enjoyed an actually functional fatherly relationship would better engage with the emotive connections this movie wants you to make. But even with that caveat, I was able to find my own way to resonate with the similar stakes of A Goofy Movie just thanks to the more effective way that one was framed, so if this one couldn’t hook me, maybe it was The Mitchells vs. The Machines’ fault after all.

#the mitchells vs the machines #the mitchells #movies #criticism #rant

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rpbetter · 4 years ago

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Urgh. Okay, full disclosure, I haven't been on tumblr much over the last week or so, because I was one of the people that Raven initially called out after the COAR mess, and it was in the interest of my own mental health to fuck off for a while so I didn't stress myself out into oblivion. So I'm scrolling through most of this stuff for the first time, and talking to other people who were targeted. And pardon my French here, but I'm fucking disgusted at the lengths Raven has gone to assert themselves as a victim, how many people they've affected, and the waving around of something as serious as suicide for brownie points.

I have sympathy for people who overinterpret things in a strictly emotional and mental sense (actual reactions aside) because they lack the maturity. There's always a reason for that, and it's not their fault. And I have sympathy for people if they legitimately feel suicidal. That, too, isn't their fault. If I hadn't been blocked, I would've reported Raven in case their claims were true as well, because yeah, I don't mess around with that stuff either. But what's unacceptable is how Raven acted on those sentiments and behaved towards others, even after people tried to provide perspective. How Raven claimed to be done with the drama, but continued inciting it; how they claimed to be suicidal and had left tumblr, but wrote what amounts to a "fuck you" in their header and were still putzing around on their blog, and were apparently still editing their posts until as late as today; how they claimed to have deleted but only changed the url; how they weaponized all of this stuff and used it as a tool for guilt-tripping. Like, come on. It's okay if you're down in the dumps, but it's not okay to treat innocent people like garbage, and carpet bomb half the RPC. To me, it really feels like there was an intent to weaponize all of their hurt, offense, anger, and suicidal ideations, despite the possibility it did come from somewhere genuine, and that's so harmful to anyone who is actually struggling with depression.

Every time someone weaponizes mental illness in this way, it just makes people more and more apathetic the next time someone is genuinely just hurting, and saying they feel like they're at the end of their rope. And it makes people suspicious of whether those words are being used maliciously, or legitimately. That suspicion and that association is now there, unconscious or not. And every time this kind of stuff happens, the association gets stronger. What happens if Raven does this again? Some people will still report, but some people might just scoff and walk away - people who might've actually acted before. So in a way, that kind of behaviour impacts Raven as much as it impacts other people.

And you know what? They're not the only one dealing with serious shit. I've been suffering from MDD for the last fifteen years, and I've been in the process of changing medications and having little success for months. I've been going through hell offline. I have a shit list of people I want to yell at because they're dragging their feet on really important things I need to function; I'm constantly running a deficit on spoons. Until a week or so ago, roleplay was one of the only ways I could unwind. So for Raven to bully me by sticking that stupid post in my tags, because they needed to make a scene on COAR, which I was obviously going to comment on (like many other people), then to "like" an unsubstantiated callout about me and other innocent people related to that mess, it's only worsened my own mental health. It sounds melodramatic, but really. Someone else mentioned this too, but the fear of being in another callout, and the fear of that first callout somehow exploding, was in the back of my mind all week, despite being away from tumblr. So that was a little anxiety-inducing, much as I tried not to think about it.

And I'm debating whether to return now, or take more time off, and I have no idea what to do. Because that callout post is still in my blog's tag. I'm freaking out because I was planning on approaching some people to roleplay, which is something I rarely ever do, but now I'm concerned that I'll contact someone, they'll look at my tag to get an idea of my writing/partners/who I am, and see the callout post, and immediately dismiss me because even seeing the word "callout" on its own will send up red flags, by unconscious association with more impactful drama. And as long as that callout is up, these fears are going to be there.

That's just not fair.

And Raven's "apology" is completely unacceptable. Like you and others said, it doesn't reach anyone who needs to hear it, because they've all been blocked. I would fucking love an apology if it came from a place of honesty, but am I going to receive one? Probably not. And even for the followers who can still see that apology, it doesn't address anything. It isn't directed to anyone in particular. It doesn't mention the specific behaviours that were wrong on their part. And miss me with the "my intentions were good" part. No, they weren't; going around blocks and sticking shit in peoples' tags is vindictive and entirely intentional in all the worst ways, and shame on them for pretending otherwise, and by leading with such a poor example for many roleplayers, some of whom are in their teens. One of the people who tried to message Raven (they, too, were called out on Raven's blog) was speaking to a nineteen-year old who was completely clueless about the extent of the manipulation Raven was pulling. They thought all of it was normal and acceptable behaviour. That genuinely terrifies me. And while I imagine if Raven was genuinely apologetic, they would've gone to the callout blog and ask them to delete the callout post (attempt it, at the very least), somehow, I don't think that would've happened given all of their prior actions. God forbid something else is going on there.

Phew. Yeah, I'm angry. Maybe I'm just biased and tired. But honestly, I have a right to be. Raven's apology is a handwave, and they know it. It's a slap in the face to me, to you, and to everyone else who was involved in this clusterfuck. They're not the center of the universe. They affected real people, with real problems of their own. Anyways, I am so sorry for this, argh. Really had to get this out, and I didn't want to dump it on discord or somewhere else; I sure as heck didn't want to go to COAR with it. But hey, maybe people here will feel less alone if I added my own account to the mix. The more, the merrier? In a sense, anyways. Sometimes if you feel like you've been singled out, it's nice to know you're not actually the only person it's happened to.

Sorry for saving your reply for last, Anon. It's such an important one, I wanted to be properly thoughtful!

I think that it is going to make some people feel less alone, and there is always some relief in sharing one's trials. That might be especially true when one has been unable to share them anywhere else. It's not like you can address this on your own blog right now, COAR is definitely not a safe place to do so, it's a very isolating feeling that is made worse for having done nothing.

Coming back and being required to wade through this shit was really damn disgusting to me as well, but at least in my case, I had neither been obliged to distance myself for the sake of mental health nor was I treated to the sickening display of drumming up ideas of victimization from someone who victimized me. What I experienced was just incredulity and disgust, I cannot imagine how incensing this must be for you, I am so very sorry. If it makes me angry having a degree of removal and watching in it real time? What you're experiencing...there really isn't a single word to adequately encapsulate that, I'm sure.

You've still expressed so many of the things I've thought and felt. I found all that initial behavior uncalled for, shameful, yet another display of what's actually wrong in the RPC, but it was increasingly upsetting to me the more I looked into it because it did feel a little (a lot) too reminiscent of the sort of bullying experienced in person. It's really something else to be viciously picked at by someone who keeps upping the game until such point as it begins to cause them trouble, then get to be painted the wrongdoer and punished in some way for it because they're presenting as a sympathetic victim. A more sympathetic victim than you, that's really what I mean, I'm just going to say it.

And that was already in swing by the time I got from the launch point to the smoking crater of then current events. I got to Raven's again after bouncing back and forth between their interactions with others, largely from COAR, yes, and the shit on the callout blog...to see...everyone else being blamed in increasingly drastic ways.

Because on tumblr, unlike reality, if you throw out enough times ahead of time that you have disorders people can get behind, you're more sympathetic, not less. So long as one has set that foundation and has others to broadcast it once convenient, any horrible action one undertakes is given a pass. Anyone disagreeing, anyone not tolerating the abuse, is in the wrong now. In the worst possible way, of course.

This whole thing began with incredibly unnecessary bullshit and every, I mean fucking every, further action taken was a new level of fucked up, but the trivializing of and damage done to the perception of mental health and differences is quite possibly the worst. Are those things that need any more of that? It's already such a problem! I already see suspicion and fatigue with this, every time it's given validation, it grows.

Even if I wasn't mentally ill, with one of the disorders that gets vilified even on tumblr, even if I were not autistic, even if I never knew a single person who suffered worse than I do from the the complications they won by way of being born, hadn't anyone I loved that took their lives, this would be extremely upsetting to me. Using the idea that "whatever I do, it's got to be acceptable because I am X" while not caring that anyone else is X, Y, and/or Z. Weaponizing it for bullying and sympathy simultaneously. Way too much. Incredibly gross and harmful, legitimately fucking problematic.

I want people to be taken seriously when they choose to speak of the boundaries their mental health requires, I want muns to be able to say that they are having a difficult time without it coming off (even to the rest of us with mental health conditions) as a ploy for attention/guilting for whatever action they desire be taken by partners, and I want people to take threats of oncoming, serious harm seriously. How are they to do this, when it is continually used as tool or weaponized against others? At very best, it becomes another thing to ignore and scroll by on the dash.

As we've all had the misfortune to experience or witness so recently, once it is weaponized, it's a problem of priority. I've said in damn near every message I've gotten that Raven isn't the only person involved here who has serious shit going on, but like the absurdity with trying to spin an accident as transphobia, or having the audacity to attempt speaking from a place of peace in a way that might benefit everyone, Raven included, resulting in a callout about being against ND people...it doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that any of us are neurodivergent, have serious chronic mental health complications, or are not cisgender. Raven was swinging that around like a flaming sword to drive off bigots real and imagined before we ever got their attention.

Attention they fucking asked for.

Reblogging that post from COAR was just like posting those rules. The intention was to get attention, and it was asked for with extreme hostility. I have no idea how that is coming off to anyone as simply them defending themselves. It was a great moment to either not out themselves as the person in the confession at all, not engage with it, quietly remove the post, or to reblog it and take responsibility in a meaningful way at that point. Can you imagine what a difference that would have made then? If Raven had chosen instead to reblog it and apologize for doing what they had. Just that. No shitty, snide little comments about how they're sorry, but still absolutely correct and here are five reasons why everything they've misconstrued won't be tolerated. Just an acknowledgment of wrongdoing, an apology for doing so, and awareness gained moving forward.

Their decision to interact with that post in the way they did wasn't just more of the same nonsense, it was actively upping the game. I don't really care if it was intentional bait or just continuing to let malicious impulse run free, it was used as bait. Everyone who interacted with that post was effectively consigning themselves to harassment, and if they happened to interact on literally any other topic that group held a passionately opposing opinion on, they were attacked for it. Curiously, it became necessary for them to be harassed by way of the callout blog, but that is getting a little close to off-topic, so, I'll leave it at that.

So, while I initially really wanted to have the appeal to Raven work because their expressions of regret that I was greatly on the fence about being genuine, I'd say those flags were accurate. I cannot believe that someone who took every opportunity to do the wrong thing is genuinely sorry. Sorry for themselves, absolutely, sorry for anything they did, not so much. This constant narrative I got of "they SAID they were sorry" and "they apologized again and again and took the posts down," including from Raven, is incredible. On that last one, they, yet again, couldn't actually address me.

Appropriate response: messaging me or reblogging that post (you know, the rules snippet I found right the hell there still, despite the claim of it being deleted and the final catalyst of me needing to say something after I saw that, nope, surely was not) with the acknowledgment of a single thing I said.

Extra appropriate response: ^ plus going to everyone who could still be located that they harmed with a genuine, individual, private apology.

Inappropriate response that was had: new post, shitty, childish tone like they at once wanted to argue with me and didn't want to drop the act, restating of this apology that had already been deleted and meant exactly shit while it existed, restating of how they deleted this post and couldn't control reblogs, ignoring that I literally reblogged the original copy from their blog.

Apology neither believed nor accepted. Just as it wouldn't be if my nephew came to my house, broke a bunch of my things, said he was sorry while throwing the pieces at my pet, then threw himself on the floor screaming that he said he was sorry when I told him to go have a time out.

(Yes, I absolutely did just make a comparison to a child, y'all can shit yourselves again. It's not my problem if you want to misconstrue "this person's actions are not befitting of an adult" as "Vespertine said autistic people are children!" Fucking miss me with that. I'm an autistic adult who pays my bills, apologizes, doesn't treat people like shit while trying to excuse it by being ND. You're offensive with that shit, and contributing to the negative perception people have of those on the spectrum. Be a good ally today! Don't valid that! Free ninety-nine offer!)

Again, sorry for yourself does not equal being sorry for what you've done. The former can contribute to the development of the latter, but as I said in a response yesterday, there has been no display of that beginning to transpire. I genuinely hope that will eventually be the case because that would be the best outcome, the only "best" outcome at this point. Even if it was two years from now, if it did happen, I certainly would not be kind to people refusing them any such growth in peace, and I hope that, by some distant chance, I get to prove that.

But...stating "my intentions were good" over any part of this is not remotely promising. When? Where? At what point? Oh, right, when you took it upon yourself to label a random mun you took issue with. That's when your intentions were good. Then, when you vehemently needed to defend that point by callouts and individual attacks under the guise of it definitely not being about your pride, no! It was the defense of everyone else! Defending the community by carpet-bombing it, yes. This is not a "the path to Hell is paved with good intentions" situation.

I am so disturbed about the nineteen-year-old mun, my god. I'm telling y'all, my anger and disgust almost reach what I think is a pinnacle, then there's something new like this.

I don't even subscribe to tumblr's ideology that anyone under twenty-five is an actual infant who needs be kept in a protective bubble and forgiven for all bad behavior with infinite kindness, nineteen-year-olds deserve the agency of the adultier adults they are becoming, but it is a transitional age. Especially today. Most socialization and formative ideas take place online, and by the time younger RPers are entering the adult sphere of RP here, they've already got some really unhealthy ideas. About themselves, about others. There is such a demand for rabidly performative action that gets internalized, it shouldn't be being heartily fed by people in the community they might look up to.

At that age, someone like Raven is going to be a person looked up to. They espouse all the right ideas, and it's an age in which aggressive interaction over those things is seen as amusing and correct, no matter how wrong the actions taken are or the basis upon which they are founded. When these people foster an environment of cruelty for questioning, of course, that is not going to be the natural response. The response is now going to be the requirement of being told otherwise with adequate proof.

I have suspected that many of the hateful anons I've gotten were from Raven's even younger followers who feel like it's normal, acceptable, and that everything they're being told by Raven's sales team over at the callout blog is absolutely true. Of course, they're now morally obligated to come harass me for the things they were told I did! I think it's likely that several of the anons people got were from actual minors, which is so many levels of scary and irresponsible. Really great example all around, yes!

Because whether it is one's intention or not, that is potentially exposing minors, or muns who are still close enough to be more negatively impacted, to who even knows what. As well as violating the rules of blogs who do not interact with minors for good reason, setting those blogs up for yet another callout for treating someone they didn't know was a minor the way they did or having "freak shit" on their blog. Setting up the other party to be treated with full hostility as an adult would be. Very cool, very responsible.

There is just so much here that is unacceptable, I don't think people who were not directly impacted or have never had a callout against them understand the results, and that is one more unacceptable thing you've been good enough to talk about.

Even while taking a break from the RPC, it affects you negatively. Wondering what you're coming back to, your blog is no longer a safe feeling space, and there's nothing you can do to "cultivate your blog" to change that. They've taken away the ability to simply block and avoid others, the thing that keeps all of us comfortable here as well as allowing that to be all of us no matter how disagreeable we might be to each other. Callouts negate adult behavior. Callouts mean that one doesn't know where more potential for harassment might be coming from, or how long we might have to be worried about that.

It would be a major concern for me as well about what putting myself out there to new writing partners might bring. What the success of that might be. It's incredibly unfair that they've made finding new people precarious and more unpleasant than it can be anyway. That puts all of the future of your RP here in question, and if you're like me, just dropping a muse, picking up another, and moving to a new URL isn't going to be a good choice for you. It isn't that simple if you dedicate time to a muse for a long period of time, when that's the case, that's the RP you want to do and have laid the groundwork for.

I don't know if it will help at all, but it has seemed to me, over the past several days, that there are fewer people in the RPC who are inclined to believe or support callouts than there once was. I was hoping that was the case, since there is always so much interaction on my posts against callout culture, but until this crap went down, I had no idea just how many people are not positive toward it. It has seemed to be that the people who are inclined to listen to callouts are just louder.

I've also noticed that those people have the same set of red flags, so maybe sharing that will help you or others?

They don't have simple, basic, reasonable Do Not Interacts. It isn't simply asking that minors don't interact because the mun is over eighteen, that muns writing a triggering topic not interact, or that sort of thing. No, it's URL dropping of specific muns, outright links to callouts or "receipts," and an accusatory tone about any topics or types of muns who shouldn't interact. Such as "nasty ass proshippers" or "pedo apologists shipping incest."

Their rules are reflective this as well. A statement cannot be made that they do not write, let's say, toxic ships and left at that. There will be some morality wank present about normalizing or romanticizing toxic/abusive relationships.

There are less assured flags, but literally, anything that stands out as an interest in RPC or fandom-based activism as opposed to an interest in writing, their muses, or even their friendships with a variety of muns. I don't mean a rounded-out interest in things, I really do mean a glaring predominance of buzzword-laden reblogs and PSA's while they've not written a reply, headcanon, or answered a meme in months.

I'm not saying any of that because I feel like you, or anyone else's, judgment is terrible or that you're oblivious to warning signs! It's just that when we've experienced bad situations, it can compromise our ability to see clearly. It becomes easy to see a potential threat everywhere, and maybe that seems contrary, but it's then easy to fail to see real threats from those we're blowing up. We question whether we're being just as judgmental as the people who wronged us, putting words in other muns' mouths and thoughts in place of their own as was done to us. While we still are afraid to be wrong in giving someone an in to ruining our time again.

So, please, don't feel like I'm questioning your intelligence or speaking from a place of ultimate knowledge, never making mistakes in such a choice! I just really hate that you, and many others, are going through this, and anything at all that I can think of that might help you move forward from this utter bullshit you've been through, I've got to try to grab it.

Because, Anon, like all those sharing their experiences these last few days, you sound like the kind of mun we need in the RPC.

You're someone willing to share with others for the benefit of others. You're being honest about your feelings of anger and even the hopeless sensation of whether it's even worth it to try to return, having your progress on and offline stomped on, while still maintaining a sort of fairness and calm that I know is not easy. Because that's the mature thing to do, it's the right thing, and unfortunately, those are usually the harder things to do as well.

You did the right thing in expressing your opinion and doing what people like Raven's group love to be on about, can only do through bullying: not tolerating it. I'd hate for the RPC to lose someone like you!

Just as your message matters to more people out there than myself, I have no doubt that your choice to not quietly allow this behavior mattered to more muns than you'll ever know. I'm sure that none of them would have wanted this result for you, but so many muns have experienced such toxic, bullying behavior over the years in which not a soul spoke up.

Many of you proved something very important with challenging Raven and the callouts blog, that unlike them, it isn't necessary for good people to even know each other to do the right thing. They have to dogpile and engage in cliquish behavior, what they do isn't coming from a place of inner ethics and strength, but what you all did? It's the opposite.

So, not only do I thank you again for sharing and providing the important support of simply not being alone to others, I thank you for being the example to the RPC that people dealing in callouts and generalized shaming cannot be, no matter their platform.

I hope that, whether you choose to remain, leave, or take a very long break, everything you've been dealing with starts to look up. I know it's easy to say things made hollow for their repetition and flippant use, like telling you not to let them win, or that their bullshit just isn't that important. So, I'm not going to say them.

It doesn't work that way when you're dealing with mental health concerns! You can logically know that this is just petty bullshit not worth being run out of something important to you, but that doesn't stop the worry, frustration, or depression. You can have all the determination in the world to hang in there, even the spite to back it up, but neither is a match for the things you cannot control coming from your brain. That is the cruelty of mental illness on the very best of days.

You have all of my respect, support, and genuine sympathy that this happened to you. No one should be allowed to continually and unapologetically go out of their way to throw a wrench into someone's hard-won progress. You did nothing to deserve this, and the people out there worth interacting with are going to be the same ones who will have no question of that.

Lastly, I also hope that some of the anons sharing their experiences have helped you feel less alone, or like you're not just irrationally upset. Please know that you're seen and supported as well! And that you are always welcome to talk more, vent, share successes here.

Thank you, Anon.

#vespertine #answered #anonymous #long post #drama cw #rp harassment #callout culture

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nomimits7 · 5 years ago

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Cold Phoenix | 1

Title: Cold Phoenix

Pairing: FBI BTS x Gang/mafia member (named) reader

Genre: Mission au, FBI au, Gang au

Warnings: Angst, manipulation, riddles (sorry), betrayal

Summary: Being born as the Taboo child between the good and the bad of this world, Zebah grew up believing she was just another one of the stolen. But just like the moon that needs the sun to shine, seven FBI agents enter her life with the promise of freedom. Before long Zebah realizes she is just another pawn in the game of Mafia vs. FBI. Will Zebah ever learn to trust the seven men that betrayed her to get what they wanted? Will she ever believe the truth behind her own birth? Or will Zebah fall alongside her family that lied to her from the start?

A/N: This story is told in the third person. Try to guess who the narrator is! Also this is my first time writing in this style. Please do tell me what you think. Should I keep to it or not?? The bold words are flashbacks of past scenes. The normal words are what the narrator tells.

@kookmin9795land Hope you like it

*-*

“It’s done. Mommy made the big bad mistake go away. Now, remember what mommy said. You made this mistake…” The woman with grey hair points to the new-born baby in her son's arms “and whatever mommy had to do in there is your fault. If she ever finds out about her true identity, mommy will have to ‘fix’ that to” The woman concluded as she exited the hallway, ordering some of the bystanders to clean up the mess. She was the wife of one of the most feared mafia bosses out there. Ruthless and heartless, even towards her own son's breaking heart. No amount of tears could break her, even if she silently felt joy seeing and holding her first grandchild.

“Don’t worry angel, even if you might never know the truth… Daddy will always love you and protect you from afar” He whispered close to his newly born daughters’ ears. Regret and sadness the only available emotions as he watches the others remove the love of his life’s lifeless body. A silent sacrifice to save her life. A sacrifice she would only come to hear about when it’s far too late. His mother has removed the sun in his dark life, fortunately, he had his daughter to fill the void, even if she, like the moon, would only reflect her mother's brightness.

Growing up in the mafia Zebah always thought she was one of the stolen. You see there were just too little children born into the mafia to maintain sufficient numbers, so some of the mafia leaders decided to steal what they needed. Reinforcements. At first, they stole teens, they were young and could learn fast, but they also had grown to the extent where they wouldn’t forget their past lives. They would rebel against the mafia, causing more problems than fixing them.

Soon the age decreased, toddlers were kept under lock and key and even baby cribs had alarms on them. People started living with the fear that their child would be next. Once Phoenix took them, they would never be seen again. The only time they would be found, is when they have already reached skeletonization.

Once the children were old enough to talk and walk properly, their training began. From handling knives to shooting with their eyes closed. They were trained to become the best of the best. The best at hiding, the best at stealing, the best at killing. Even though they knew children would sometimes make mistakes, they treated it as a game of baseball. Strike one was a warning, strike two a punishment, and strike three meant you were out. Out of the mafia and out of society. How they killed off these recruits depended on the day, but luckily Zebah never got to experience such an event. She barely had one strike to your name.

It’s been sixteen years since her training started and twenty-one years since she started breathing. Zebah was ruthless and feared amongst the mafia members. Even some of the rival mafias kept their distance from her. She was still young, but since her skills surpass most of her seniors, Zebah quickly became a favorite. Even her best friends and partners in crime envied her position. Alex and Ray barely left her side. Even with her skills, they knew Zebah was still just a young girl stuck in the mafia world. Physically feared but mentally broken. All of them were, their upbringing wasn’t exactly normal.

Most of the mission they were sent on went without fault, but they were still learning. This fact alone was why the big boss never sends them on ‘more important’ missions. The risk was just too high, the FBI and even some rival mafias would take any chance they got to take down Pheonix, even if they would have to deal with Z. Luckily they always failed, and as cocky as that sounds that may be exactly what lead to their success in the end. One thing nobody realized in the beginning was just how fragile the minds of the young ones are. Phoenix simply focussed on the hardcore stuff. They barely trained their minds to withstand temptation. This was one of the biggest mistakes Phoenix could ever have made.

So why this is important you ask? Well, you see every story has a start and the very birth of the taboo child leads to the downfall of Pheonix. She might have been born and raised in the mafia, but her heart was pure and believe me when I tell you she wanted out. None of her friends shared her desire and Zebah learned that the hard way. Now I won’t bore you with the boring stuff, so I’ll cut to the very boys who granted her, her freedom. I have to warn you though, this story doesn’t have the usual ‘enemies to lover’ enigma. This story includes heartbreak and betrayal with a dash of blood for taste.

You won’t believe me when I tell you that it was seven FBI agents. You heard me right, seven FBI boys. These seven were compiled of three hackers and four specialists. Now I know in the FBI all of the agents get trained in how to handle a gun and how to investigate and all that nitty-gritty shit. But here’s what sets these seven men apart. Their leader is a genius. Not in the sense of he can solve a crime within 5 seconds, no he’s extremely smart in the strategic sense. I think he mentioned once he had a degree in philosophy or something like that. The oldest hacker came from a criminal background. Both his parents were cyber thieves and they taught him everything he knows. One of the specialists was a chemist, the other two are experts in human behavior. The other two hackers just did it as a side job to get through college.

So in short, these individuals make up one heck of a team. Maybe that’s why their superiors gave them the mission to take Pheonix down. But the funny part of this whole story is that they never made a move. It was like they were the mafias and were waiting for their target to slip into their trap. At the time Pheonix didn’t even know they had a new target on their backs. Typical if you consider what idiot the leader was.

“Boss. We worked through the entire list of known mafia members and identified 3 candidates we can consider as possible insiders. All male, all young and naïve” Hoseok said as Namjoon walked into the office. This was not great news. Naïve-ness leads to failed missions and that’s one thing they could not afford. They had an image to maintain after all.

“You know that’s not a good start at all, right? We need insurance. Someone willing to take down the only family they know.” Yoongi casually stated as he cleaned his weapons. None of the profiles were stable enough to use. They all held the risk of failure. Some of them the members were too high up and other members were to low down to trust. It was nearly impossible for them to find an in.

“Maybe we’ll find something tonight. There’s a small gathering down at the docks and if my sources are correct, there will be a deal going down.” Seokjin said gaze still firmly attached to his screen.

“And how do we know your sources can be trusted Jin? People lie all the time to get what they want” Namjoon asked somewhat frustrated that his team’s not getting anywhere. It’s been a whole week since the big man told them to take Pheonix down and the man wants answers. Nothing made Namjoon more pissed off than someone nagging him for progress, especially in a high-profile case like this. Taking down Phoenix would be considered one of the most impossible tasks to ever cross an agent's desk. Many have tried in the past, and all have failed.

“Seriously Joon? I’m a hacker for goodness sake. I saw the text messages with my own eyes. Before you say anything I know it’s illegal that’s why I had Kookie send in an anonymous message leaving the tip for us to follow” Seokjin said as he finally made eye contact with a ‘shocked but not surprised’ Namjoon. He has done this before, once a criminal always a criminal. Seokjin, like the others, lived for the thrill.

If there is one thing you should know about this group of seven it’s this, they play by their own rules. I still believe that if it weren’t for their leader to keep them in check or his ability to legalize their actions, they would have been very cunning criminals.

Part 2

A/N: I know its short but there’s a reason...A good one. Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist! thank you for reading <3

#nomimits7 #bts #bts x reader #Zzzz #named oc #ot7 #ot7 x reader #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #zebah #mafia #gang #fbi #whatever other tags writers use

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identityonfilm · 5 years ago

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Character analysis - Lucifer Morningstar

Staying true to my chosen topic, identity and the importance of representation on cinema and TV, I decided to analyse one of my favorite, most complex characters from TV. I went through this based on watching the episodes of the show, watching and reading interviews from the creators and the cast of the show, theories and also talking and debating with friends who have watched the show and can relate to him and his experiences, putting in evidence the importance of representation.

Being such a complex character that represents and normalizes a lot of stigma, he allows me to explore trauma, coping mechanisms, sexuality, mental illness and above all, identity.

Lucifer Morningstar is a character from the Lucifer TV show (originally from FOX and found a new family on Netflix after being canceled in 2018) based on the DC comics by the same name.

Lucifer is, quite obviously, the Devil. We’ve since our childhood been taught to think he’s terrible and to fear him, but that’s practically impossible with this fictional satan. If anything, he shows us the biggest, hardest path to redemption humanity could ever witness and that if he can, so can we.

Even though this Lucifer isn’t completely based of the Bible, his origins are. Lucifer Morningstar, born Samael, is the son of God and Goddess, the favorite son, the Poison of God, the Lightbringer. His task was to light up the stars. He and his siblings were neglected from a young age, since Dad was too busy with humanity and his only contact with his children was to command them. Our hero got enough of the neglect and, fascinated by the free will humanity possessed and angels lacked, started a rebellion against his own Father. In result, he got thrown out of Heaven and into Hell as his sentence, becoming its ruler. In the Underworld he created his own identity: Satan, the Devil, detaching himself from his angelic nature. From there, he commanded demons and gave out punishment to the most rotten, guilty souls that got into his realm. There, the demon Mazikeen became his friend and protector, until both of them left to Earth for a “vacation”.

Lucifers backstory is tragic and clearly traumatizing. The Lightbringer went from being the purest angel, God’s favorite son, to being the Devil, owning up to his original name’s meaning, the Poison of God. Lucifer became violent, impulsive, frustrated and, under his carefully crafted layers of confidence, a very insecure creature, full of self hatred. He’s an immensely relatable character to a lot of viewers, for a multitude of reasons. Along this post i will explore these topics.

Daddy issues: The root of all of Morningstar’s issues is undoubtedly, God Himself. His own father, who’s supposed to love and protect His son, failed, abandoned and vilified him. Throughout the series Lucifer vents and rants about the pain He caused, His injustice and unfairness. His family is the root of all his trauma and the abandonment from a parental figure is something a lot of children and teens unfortunately go through and seeing this strong, seemingly indestructible character breaking at the thought of his Dad, just like they do, is extremely important.

Trust issues: Alongside the daddy issues blooms his trust issues. He was wronged by his family, everyone he’s ever met and even has been vilified by all of humanity. In the 13 billions of years he’s been alive, he has learned how to build his walls up and close himself off from possible friendships and even relationships. He doesn’t completely trust anyone, not even himself, but we see his walls crumbling down throughout the seasons, especially with Chloe Decker, his partner and eventually, his lover, and Linda Martin, his therapist.

Interpersonal difficulties: As mentioned before, Lucifer has his walls way up, which doesn’t allow him to have healthy relationships. Most of his relationships are rocky and unstable, big part of that due to difficulty in communication. While his most toxic friendship is with his oldest friend Maze, his rockiest is possibly with co-worker Dan, all the way through his growing relationship with his only present brother, Amenadiel, sweetest sibling-like relationship with Ella, a very awkward friendship with the detective’s “spawn”, Trixie, to the most focused on relationship of the show - “Deckerstar”- his relationship with Chloe Decker, his co-worker becomes friend becomes best friend becomes lover. Chloe is Lucifer’s soulmate, the one who makes him emotionally and physically vulnerable, the true love of his life. The key to his path to redemption. But his most important friendship is, without a shadow of a doubt, his therapist, Doctor Linda Martin. The normalization of therapy is such an important point of this show. Lucifer starts therapy in the beginning of season 1 and continues throughout the show, where she helps him breakthrough most of his issue and teaches him how to deal with his emotions and himself. His character is full of denial. He refuses to be seen as weak, fragile, “human”. He sees emotions as a flaw and weakness. His sessions with Linda help him open his eyes to a new reality and to connect with and embrace his vulnerable side.

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Self-destructive behavior/unhealthy coping mechanisms: Lucifer often falls into unhealthy behavior when something somewhat tragic happens. That unhealthy behavior ranges from excessive use of drugs, abuse of alcohol, sex, self-harm, cutting his wings off often because they’re a symbol of divinity that represent his loyalty to his Father), all the way to being completely reckless and attempting to get himself killed. His complete disregard for his own life and well-being is a constant in the series, going as far as dying to protect/save someone, but in these moments of despair, it goes from a place of protectiveness for the ones he loves to suicidal behavior rooted on his self-hatred and guilt.

Hypersexuality: As mentioned above, one of Lucifer’s coping mechanisms is engaging in sexual activity. This is often linked to childhood trauma, either by abuse where victims need to reclaim the power over their own bodies or by neglect and lack of physical affection in formative years. He chooses to numb his pain and emotions with pleasure.

“They are addicted to the neurochemical and dissociative high produced by their intense sexual fantasy life and ritualistic behavior.” by Robert Weiss on Psych Central

Isolation: Due to depression, trauma and spending years alone in Hell, Morningstar tends to isolate himself when things get rough. While he craves love, friendship and affection, he denies that to himself, he doesn’t understand that he can be loved, fully, for who he is, both angel and devil, without it being a manipulation from his Father.

Sexuality: Lucifer Morningstar is a canon bisexual character, and the best part about it, is that it’s normalized. There isn’t a big storyline about his sexuality or homophobia, he just openly talks about and is shown with both women and men. And it’s normal. Actually, most of the characters on the show are canon LGBTQ+, which is one of the reasons the show is so loved by many. Representation is so important and seeing ourselves and our experiences represented on TV is immensely important in helping us feel more normal and seen. As of 2020, the actor Tom Ellis has won two bisexual representation awards for playing Lucifer. (x)

Upon this analysis, we can confirm that his trauma, behavior issues and his identity as we see on the show is widely shaped by his childhood and his background story, mainly by his Dad, Mum and siblings. According to the NSPCC, some effects of neglect are:

l “taking risks, like running away from home, using drugs and alcohol or breaking the law.

l getting into dangerous relationships

l difficulty with relationships later in life, including with their own children

l a higher chance of having mental health problems, including depression.”

However tragic it may be, his story and his path to redemption and happiness is extremely inspiring and shows the audience that no matter where you came from, your past does not define you. No matter what you’re going through, it gets better. It’s a message of hope, love and identity.

References:

Weiss, Robert. (2018). Hypersexuality: Symptoms of Sexual Addiction. Retrieved from https://psychcentral.com/lib/hypersexuality-symptoms-of-sexual-addiction/#:~:text=Sexual%20addiction%20or%20hypersexuality%20is,of%20at%20least%20six%20months.

NSPCC. Effects of neglect. Retrieved from https://www.nspcc.org.uk/what-is-child-abuse/types-of-abuse/neglect/

Feser, Madison. (2019). The Doctor Is In: Therapy Is The Medicine Of Choice In Fox’s ‘Lucifer’. Retrieved from https://studybreaks.com/tvfilm/lucifer-fox-therapy-mental-health/

https://lucifer.fandom.com/wiki/Lucifer_Morningstar

#exercicio1

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farzeenx234 · 4 years ago

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Digital life stories final

I remember it was June 12, 2012. As I got off the stairs of my plane, I knew my life would never be the same. New challenges were waiting ahead of me and I had to confront them. The difficult thing about moving to a new culture is that a lot of people would feel fear because they are so used to their own culture. So, now they leave what they are used to for a new way and it will be hard for them to adapt. Some may like the new food and the pace of life, then later on in the month people may feel like the new life and culture is unpleasant life. For instance: public hygiene, the language barriers, traffic safety, and food accessibility. Feeling lonely, hopeless or overwhelmed at such an enormous life change. People leave their home countries for various reasons, to escape as a refugee, or immigrate for a change in life. As easy as it seems to be there are so many roadblocks along the way. I was born and raised in Pakistan, my home country. Growing up I was very outgoing, confident, and had a relaxed outlook on life. I was always satisfied and content with my life. That was before my mom married my step dad, and then we were on our way to New York. I could only describe my feelings in one word -- apprehensive. A long and tedious 17-hour flight was ahead of me. I sat restlessly in my seat with a blanket on. My naivety allowed me to think that that blanket was more of a shield rather than a cloth to protect me from the cold. It was a shield that blurred my future and comforted me temporarily. I had no idea what I was going to be. The fact that moving to new country hunts me till this day. Trying to figure out who I was going to be as a person . Deep within I knew that I was scared; But I remember my mom words that we are moving for a better life. I was leaving all my friends, my family, and in a way my life behind. I had to start my life over again. Not only did I have to live a new life I had to conquer it. The moment I stepped out of my plane and into a fresh territory I transformed, mentally and emotionally. I went from being a social extrovert person to a very quiet and shy girl. I had spent 12 years of my life building my character, my personality, all of me. I did not understand why I was expected to change myself. Looking back I could blame it on the confusion, the pressure I put on myself during such a tender age. I had to learn a new language, culture and blend myself with other people, which at that moment I thought was necessary to do so. My mom admitted me into a middle school. The first day of school was the most terrifying moment of my life. I walked in with an anxious expression and for some peculiar reason was ready to be humiliated as if being from somewhere else was so bad. As I went to my first class, I vividly remember feeling like I needed to do something to gain attention and have everyone like me. Under the pressure of blending in, I became the polar opposite of who I truly am. I knew I had to start a new chapter in my life. My first year of going to school in U.S the biggest struggle I had was getting bullied. Though bullying does not seem to connect to school in a related to school and learning sense, bullying in schools causes a lot of negative body-structure-related effects that change how a student will perform in school and the opinions they will form about schools and other American institutions. Many existing school policies, like the structure of English Language Learning classes as being subtractive relating to viewing foreign languages as an interference for related to people who enter a country and related to social pressure, how people act toward each other, etc. normal behaviors and prejudiced mental pictures make schools unsafe for immigrants and children of immigrants youth. This problem comes from gener all good people in the world), instead of being a direct result of education, which makes finding appropriate ways to reduce bullying in schools or handling migrants child bullying situation complex.

hough there is the existence of being one of the most important causing people or animals to interact with others so they're more friendly institutions for youth in America, schools seem to fail at helping appreciation and acceptance of differences present in students. Research shows “ within the last decade, minority groups have surpassed the American mainstream, which has classically been considered to be American-born, White middle class, in the K-12 age bracket of the population. Currently, minority students make up more than half of the school-aged population (Calderón, Slavin and Sánchez 2011) and approximately twenty percent of the youth population are immigrants or children of immigrants (Pumariega and Rothe 2010.) Out of immigrants and children of immigrants, a majority of these students are Hispanic, specifically of Mexican descent, and of Asian descent According to another research published online on March1, 2012 in the Journal of Adolescent Health: Children born outside America, or born into immigrant families, are more likely to become victims of bullying as compared with kids born in the US.Kids born outside the US were more likely to be the victims of bullying rather than being the perpetrators. In addition, Fairfax County Youth Survey School Year 2010-11 data showed that:49% of teens reported that they were called bad names on the basis of their race and culture.Meanwhile, 43% reported that at some point they had targeted a peer on the basis of race and ethnicity.”

Bullying made me something I was not I did not know any English at all and that made me feel excluded as if I did not belong here. One day, when I was in my english class, the teacher made groups of people and had us discuss about how the story we were reading . In my group, there were three Americans and me; for a few minutes I felt I had fit in the group. But when they would not even let me talk, I realized I did not feel included and little by little they completely forgot I was part of the group. There are many children that are born in different countries or move to a different countries and have two cultures, everyday they have to live their lives feeling like they do not belong to a community or even to the only country they know. I made a ton of new friends, but with the wrong intentions. I wanted to have as many friends as I could so I would be popular, a term that I now have found a new meaning for. Making those friends still haunts to how bad I turned out to be. As I got closer to graduation, I reflected on what I had become -- a bogus, arrogant, and ignorant person. I knew that these qualities were not the ones I wanted to embrace. I knew I had to do something so there could be a little authenticity left in me. I knew I had to start a new chapter in my life. Once my high school years began, I made more friends with the same wrong intentions. As I was making more friends, I stumbled upon a girl named Sara, I watched how she handled her life. I saw how she embraced her unique self. Watching her grow into the kind of person that I wanted to be deeply influenced me. That was who I wanted to become. Once again, I transformed myself. But this time it was in a positive way, I became friends with people who liked me for who I was. I was still popular, but this time, I was popular within the small group of friends I had. This time, I had people around me that actually cared about me. This time, I had people around me that wanted the best for me. My brother sometimes asks me if I regret my days in middle school and my response is always no. My experience allowed me to become who I am today. Now that I am reflecting on what I have become: understanding, caring and once again content with my life. Also working on my passion my childhood dream.When I was 15 years old, one year before I graduated from high school, my mom talked to me about what they thought would be best for me to study. she said that good careers were Doctor or Lawyer; I did not give an answer about what I wanted to study that day. However, while I was at school the next day, I thought that maybe that becoming a doctor or lawyer was something I have to study because I did not want her to get upset Studying these types of careers would most likely take me eight to ten years, and I did not want to attend college for that long. One day talked to my mom, and I told her that I would love to become a doctor or even a lawyer, but I want to fulfill my childhood dream. Ever since I was little, I wanted to be called Ma’am or Miss. Growing up in Pakistan made me see the lack of motivation and passion people had for education. Along with that, I also saw how undermined girls were in every aspect. They were forced to stay home and deal with chores. Fortunately, I was born in a family that was open-minded. Though a single mother, my mom always allowed me to fulfill my passion to its full potential. Due to my mother’s passion for education I built a vision for my future. I had always wanted to be a teacher. Differences between how girls were subjected to be a house-wife and boys were expected to be an engineer or a doctor provoked me and made me extremely passionate about teaching.n I wanted to teach people that, though physically different, there is not much difference between how capable boys and girls are.

I still have the vivid visual in my mind: a six year old with a chalk in her hand teaching an imaginary class of 20 students. I knew each and everyone of their names, I knew their strengths, their weaknesses and how to bring out the best. One of my imaginary students was always motivated by the idea of a lavish lifestyle. I told him that he could obtain this by studying hard. In my mind, still to this day, the idea that anything can be gained by studying hard is stuck.

My younger sister would always try and copy me. She would make up her own imaginary class and teach them. We would argue about who is the better teacher and who had more students. Though, at first, watching her teach her own class angered me because it was ‘my thing’. After some time went on, I was rathered motivated by her-she made me realize that if I could ignite a passion for education in her, I could do it for others as well.

The dust that fell from the chalk in the hands of a younger, and still in progress of being Ms. Fatima, though it's gone for now, comes out in the form of motivation when I am feeling down. The remembrance of how I was needed to change the lives of 20 imaginary kids never fails to motivate me to study harder so I could help more lives.Many times parents need to understand what their adolescents want to pursue as a career. It is about what their child wants to do for the rest of her life, not about what the parents want their children to do or study. My experience allowed me to become who I am today. Now that I am reflecting on what I have become: understanding, caring and once again content with my life. Also working on my passion my childhood dream.

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exxar1 · 4 years ago

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Episode 11: New Believer, New Faith, and a New Vow

2/7/2021

- 1 -

Good morning! It’s a beautiful Sunday here in Las Vegas. I have much to talk about so I’m just going to get right into it.

It’s hard to believe we’re already a full month into the new year. This year for me has been very rewarding thus far. For starters, I have had no trouble keeping up with resolutions 1 and 4. (For a refresher, you can scroll back through my previous posts to the one from New Year’s Eve.) I have found time each day to read my Bible and pray, and I have had little difficulty in maintaining a pleasant attitude and a smile in my daily encounters with my co-workers and customers. As expected, though, that latter one has been tested a few times by the occasional sour apples that woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But I’ve surprised myself every time by my patience and my ability to keep a calm and pleasant demeanor. (Those of you who have known me for a long time will understand how truly remarkable that is for me.) It’s simply another testament to the power of God to change our basic attitudes when we are willing to let Him.

I’ve also made great strides in resolution #3, and that’s where I’m going to spend the bulk of my time on this post.

Have you ever sought something – therapy, a particular medication, advice from a friend or colleague – thinking that it might help with one problem, only to be pleasantly surprised that one, the result helped in many other ways you hadn’t anticipated; and two, that the change/outcome/counseling exceeded your initial expectations by such a great magnitude that you couldn’t believe you hadn’t sought this help long ago? That feeling has been with me for over three weeks now, and it’s only getting better with each session.

One of my first tasks in tackling resolution #3 was to consult a pastor on this issue of homosexuality and the Bible. I needed to know what God really said in His Word on this controversial topic, and since I have yet to find a home church here in Las Vegas the only pastor that I am casually acquainted with is Mark Sjostrom of the church in which I was born and raised back in Twin Falls, Idaho.

For those of you unfamiliar with Twin Falls or this particular church, allow me to forge a brief rabbit trail here to give you a short history. Grace Baptist Church was founded in 1975, and, back then, it was just a one-story, oblong, red-bricked building, its main auditorium forming a bubble at one end, at the intersection of Eastland Drive and Falls Avenue on the eastern edge of town. It’s still that same building today, only now there’s a massive, two-story gymnasium/classroom on the other side of the back parking lot, and a third, smaller, two-room annex that sits behind the gym. The first of those latter two structures was needed in the early eighties when the church launched its own private school, Twin Falls Christian Academy. I was in kindergarten when the gymnasium was under construction. I have many memories of watching my dad and some of the other men in church up on the scaffolds, putting together the walls, while I waited for my mom to pick me up after school, which was held in the various Sunday school rooms in the church. A few years later, I would be attending high school in the classrooms above that gym.

In the years since I have grown and left Twin Falls, I have come back to that church on the occasional Sunday morning worship service when I’m home for a vacation visit. I’ve always had mixed feelings every time I set foot beyond the threshold of its main doors (see my previous posts about my struggles during my teen years.) It’s the same feeling you get when you come back to something that is at once familiar and strangely comforting, but also brings with it unpleasant memories and the pain of old wounds that have never quite healed.

Grace’s pastor since 2005 has been Mark Sjostrom (pronounced ‘shos-trum’), and I didn’t know him that well when I decided to consult him on this issue. Our only interaction thus far had been a brief handshake and a greeting after those sporadic Sunday morning worship services, and I wasn’t sure he would even remember me when I nervously texted him a brief ‘Hello’ a month ago. He responded within a few minutes, and I re-introduced myself and then gave a short explanation of what I needed. We agreed on a time and date for a phone call, and I emailed him the next day with a longer explanation of what I needed to talk about with him.

That letter was a somewhat detailed account of what most of you are already familiar with: my struggle in high school with keeping my secret of being gay while trying to fit in socially and eventually declaring myself an Atheist after being expelled from school my senior year a month before graduation. It was probably about 2 pages, and I was now very nervous after clicking the ‘Send’ button. I suppose now is a good time to tell you something else about me.

I have been one of ‘those people’ for all of my adult life. You know who I’m talking about: the people who silently judge the other customers in the book store who pause to browse the Self Help section; or the people who quietly scoff when anyone talks about their latest therapy session with their friends or coworkers at lunch in the break room. I’m glad I don’t need self-help or therapy, I’ve always thought. But, then again, good for them, I guess. I’m glad I have all my issues worked out, and I’m a stable, normal adult. I’ve never had any issues that were so bad I needed to get help from an armchair counselor’s latest best seller or a psychiatrist’s couch.

Hhmmm. My life, lately, has been chock full of irony.

When the time came to dial Pastor Sjostrom’s number my level of nervousness was up to a ten out of ten on the anxiety scale. I hadn’t felt like this since high school when it was opening night of our Agatha Christie play, and I was one of the main cast. I had prepared a detailed outline of what I wanted to discuss, and, after a few initial pleasantries, Mark quickly put me at ease. I was pleasantly caught off guard by his relaxed, casual personality. I found immediately that he was very easy to talk to, and my anxiety level dropped to a ‘three’ in the first five minutes. Pastor Sjostrom is definitely one of those people who has found the right calling. His warm, personable demeanor made me feel like I was talking to an old friend over coffee at Starbucks, and after about ten minutes of getting to know one another, he brought the conversation back around to my letter.

Here’s where my second surprise occurred. Mark was bluntly honest. I had told him that I believed I was saved in 1985, when I was seven, after the evening service of one of our church’s mid-summer week long revival meetings. “Neal,” Mark said rather pointedly, “after reading your description of your life after high school, I gotta say that it doesn’t sound like you were saved. Your behavior and your atheism doesn’t reflect the change that is described in the Bible.” He went on to explain that salvation is a change brought about the presence of the Holy Spirit in the new believer. There is a desire to learn more about God and His Word. There is a desire to serve him and to live one’s life in surrender to Him.

I had to pause and think about that. And, doggone it, you know what? He was right. And the reason I knew that was because I had only to look at the last four months of my life, even more so since I had returned from Christmas vacation. That desire – that hunger – to know God had never been present in my life until September 17, 2020. That was the night I surrendered to Christ in an awkward, fumbling prayer on the way home from work. Ever since, I have had nothing but a desire to read my Bible and change my life. I told pastor this, and he agreed. It was evident now that I was truly saved. That evidence was lacking in my youth and my adult life up to this point.

My third major surprise of that initial counseling session – yes, that was what is was – was when pastor told me he was assigning me homework for our next weekly conversation. He wanted me to read the book of 1 John. He explained that we would eventually get to the issue of homosexuality, but that we needed to cover this ground first. I agreed to the assignment, and we hung up. I glanced at the clock in the upper corner of my computer screen. We had talked for almost an hour. I immediately reached for my Bible and opened it to 1 John. I read the whole book in about ten minutes.

1 John is a primer for the new believer. John states clearly and succinctly what makes a Christian a Christian. Chapter 1:9 was immediately familiar to me from my Sunday School days: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” So was chapter 2:9: “He that saith he is in the light, and hateth his brother, is in darkness, even until now.” John goes to say in chapter 5:2: “By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God, and keep His commandments.” And, finally, verse 20 of that same chapter: “And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know Him that is true, and we are in Him that is true, even in His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life.”

Yep. All of that book made perfect sense. Part of that was because I had absorbed so much of God’s Word in my youth that it had sat in the deep recesses of my brain for all of my life, and much of it had begun floating to the surface in the last several months – like debris from an ancient wartime submarine that has been recently dislodged from its ocean grave. Except that these artifacts – Bible verses, fragments of sermons, some of Mr. Walker’s proverbs from Bible class – were not dirty, soggy, disgusting relics. They were bits of priceless treasure, and I’ve been rediscovering them in dribs and drabs ever since.

I have had three sessions with Pastor Sjostrom, and they are each the highlight of my week. I very nearly broke down after hanging up from our first talk. I felt a combination of immense relief, peace and calm. Not to be overly melodramatic, but it was if something had dislodged in my very soul, like a sliver of wood just beneath the skin that has never quite come all the way out. I realized with immediate clarity that I was getting far more than just a pastor’s opinion on a particular issue for my book. I had stumbled on to something else, something I needed far more: spiritual counseling and guidance for my new life as a child of God.

I am a new believer.

That seems so strange to say out loud. I was raised in the church. I had at least a third of the Bible memorized by the time I was twelve. I knew all the major stories from the Old Testament – the creation of the world; God’s covenant with Abraham; Jacob, Esau and Isaac; Joseph sold into slavery into Egypt and God’s eventual deliverance of the Israelites from their captivity there; the introduction of the ten commandments and the Mosaic Law; Esther, Ruth, King Saul, David, the Book of Psalms, the prophet Isaiah – I knew all of it by heart by the end of my days in elementary school. Same for the New Testament – the birth of Christ; all of His teachings and parables; His death on the cross; His resurrection after three days; the founding of His church after His ascension back to Heaven – it was all as familiar to me by the time I walked away from high school as the mathematical precepts of basic addition, subtraction, division and multiplication.

I had assumed all this time that I was still saved. I thought I had really, genuinely believed in Jesus as my savior that long ago night in 1985 when I was seven years old. And maybe I did. But, for whatever reason, the Holy Spirit had not come into me back then. I was not truly saved. (This is perhaps worthy of a more detailed discussion and analysis later on down the road.) Whatever the case, I am most definitely a new believer now. The Holy Spirit is alive and well within me, and I have only a single desire and purpose: to know the God that created me, and to serve him with all my heart, soul and mind.

Pastor and I did discuss my homosexuality issue in our second talk, and that, along with the extracurricular reading I’ve been doing on this topic, has enabled me to finally reconcile what I couldn’t in my teen years when I first fought with this problem.

- 2 -

If I am gay, and God – through His written word – has condemned what I am as a sin, how can I be His child and serve Him as he commanded me to do? That’s the question I’ve been wrestling with anew for the last few months. I began this new journey in last September with the premise that I was born gay. I’ve believed that my whole adult life. I proceeded from that assumption through all of my reading and research these last few weeks. But if God made me this way, why would He then condemn as an abomination the very thing that I am? Is He not contradicting Himself? How can this be?

Pastor Sjostrom asked that very question in our second talk. He then went on to answer it by explaining that my unnatural desire for the same sex was a cause of the Fall, when Adam and Eve disobeyed God and ate of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. This is what led their descendants to the sins of idolatry, fornication, sexual perversion, and many, many others. Yes, I was born gay. But that’s not how God made me. There’s a very distinct difference.

His explanation corroborated what I have come to discover in the last couple weeks as I’ve read Two Views on Homosexuality, the Bible, and the Church from the Counterpoints series. Author and editor Preston Sprinkle gathered four prominent Christian authors, scholars, and theologians to discuss this issue – two for and two against. I will not go into great detail of what these authors debate and discuss, mainly for the sake of page and time, but also because this issue is not anywhere near as complicated as it seems.

All four of the contributing authors to the Two Views book have used the following Bible verses/passages as the foundation of their arguments:

1.) The creation story in Genesis 1 and 2.

2.) Genesis 19:4-11 (Sodom & Gomorrah)

3.) Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13

4.) 1 Corinthians 6:9-11

5.) 2 Corinthians 5:17

6.) Romans 1:18-32, emphasis on verses 26-28

7.) 1 Timothy 1:9-10

Those authors have also drawn from extra-Biblical material such as the writings of Philo, a Jewish historian who was a contemporary of the apostle Paul; the Apocrypha; the writings of Saint Augustine; and various other books – most written in the last 50 years – on sociology, sexuality and anthropology in the ancient world.

Here’s an example of one of one of the arguments for the church’s endorsement of homosexuality. One of Two Views’ contributors, Megan Defranza argues that there were many people in Biblical times that were born with no distinct male or female genitalia or other defining sexual characteristics. These “intersex individuals” were often referred to as eunuchs by the people of that time, and many of them were used as sex slaves. Megan claims that Genesis 1 is “…a theological account describing creation in broad categories, not an exact scientific inventory of all of God’s good creatures.” She goes on to say that Adam and Eve were not the exclusive, ideal models for all of man and womankind. They were, rather, just the broad categories; that the birth of eunuchs and other such of types of intersex people prove that God would welcome the church’s acceptance of gays, lesbians and transgenders since they have been born that way, and their sexual desires are natural to them. She claims that God was not condemning the eunuchs and other similar people in those verses/passages I listed above. Those condemnations were for the ones who had turned deliberately turned away from God to worship idols and indulge their sinful lusts.

There’s a lot more detail to Megan’s argument, especially regarding the eunuchs and their forced sexual slavery to their male masters, but it’s not worth going into here. The other three contributing authors give similar arguments, citing external sources in addition to scripture, to support their particular view. Wesley Hill and Stephen Holmes, the two that are opposed to the church’s condoning of homosexuality and gay marriage, give the stronger of the four arguments. Two Views opens with Megan’s and William Loader’s essays (the other author who falls on the affirming and open acceptance side of this debate), but by the time I reached the end of their arguments, I already knew which side of this issue I was going to fall on.

Wesley Hill and Stephen Holmes – as well as Pastor Sjostrom – present a much stronger, sounder case for why the Christian church, no matter the denomination, should be condemning ALL forms of homosexuality as clearly as God does. My own Bible reading and prayer showed me this after only a few weeks. I don’t really need to read all the other books on this topic to know the truth. To be completely honest, I had a pretty good idea of what the end of this journey would look like before I even started it. All the verses from Genesis, Leviticus, Romans, 1st and 2nd Corinthians, and 1st Timothy that deal with this specific issue are quite clear. It is stated over and over: homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of God. Paul stated it best in 1 Corinthians 6:9-11:

“Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of our Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.”

That word “effeminate” in the KJV is translated from the original Greek word that Paul used: arsenokoitai. This is a compound word: arsen – male; koite – bed. “Male bedders”, in other words; those men who sleep with other men. In the NIV translation, the word “effeminate” is replaced with the phrase “men who sleep with other men”. The only other passage that Paul uses that word is in 1 Timothy 1:8-10 (NKJV):

“But we know that the law is good if one uses it lawfully, knowing this: that the law is not made for a righteous person, but for the lawless and insubordinate, for the ungodly and for sinners, for the unholy and profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers, for fornicators, for sodomites, for kidnappers, for liars, for perjurers, and if there is any other thing that is contrary to sound doctrine…”

The meaning of these two passages is quite clear: those that practice any or all of those sins listed will not inherit the kingdom of God. They are not true believers and followers of Christ. And thus, any church that not only allows its homosexual members to remain in their sin, but also performs gay marriage, is not a true church of God.

And such were some of you.

God has commanded those that follow Him and declare His name to turn from their wickedness and be transformed. Those that believe on His name and repent of their sins will no longer practice those sins listed in the passages I quoted above. That’s the meaning of the phrase, “…and such were some of you.” Well, I have definitely been transformed. I can feel the Holy Spirit working in me. And, because of that, I have no other choice. If I am to be faithful to my Lord and Creator, if I surrender myself completely to His will, I must take a vow to turn away from my sin nature. I cannot indulge in the “lusts of the flesh”, as Paul says in Romans, if I am to call myself a true Christian. I am now a child of God, and His will alone must govern all I say and do.

But, even more important than those passages I listed and quoted above, is the book of Genesis, chapter two. God created Adam first and then He decided it wasn’t good for man to be alone. So God made the woman out of Adam’s rib, and he called her ‘Eve”. Then, in verse twenty-four, God said, “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” This chapter, more than any other passage in the Bible, clearly and explicitly demonstrates what God had intended from the very beginning. The only natural desire of the flesh was for the opposite sex: man for woman and woman for man. That was God’s original plan.

Unfortunately for us, Adam and Eve did not resist the serpent’s temptation to eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. After the Fall, their perfect, pure natures were corrupted by sin, and that corruption was passed unto their children, and their children’s children. Part of that corruption was the perversion of the natural, normal sexual desire. Men lusted after men and women for women. Even though the subsequent passages in Genesis which describe mankind’s deplorable state before the Great Flood never state it specifically, it is not unreasonable to assume that more than just homosexuality was a problem. Bestiality, pedophilia, rape and incest were very likely abundant among the first few generations of man, as well as the worship of false idols and complete rejection of God. Why else would God have felt the need to punish his creation by wiping them from the face of the Earth, save for Noah and his family?

As the old saying goes, ‘God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve’. I’ve always hated that pithy, snarky retort whenever I had to defend my sexuality to anyone who tried to tell me I was living in sin. But it’s true. God created only Adam and Eve; not Adam and Steve; not Melissa and Eve; not Adam, Eve, and some other non-gender, non-binary person.

Just Adam and Eve.

Man and woman were joined in holy matrimony and, until the Fall, they lived in perfect peace and union with their Lord and Creator. Anything that deviates from that original, holy standard that God still demands of His children today, is a sin. That includes homosexuality, bestiality, pedophilia, incest, idolatry and devil worship, to name a few. Anyone that willfully practices or engages in any of those things and does not repent cannot call himself a true believer in Christ. Nor can any church that not only openly endorses homosexuality but also performs gay marriage can call themselves a true church of Christ.

So then, what now? If I accept that my sexuality is a byproduct of my sin nature, and that God, in fact, did not make me this way, how can I best serve Him? I’m still gay. That hasn’t changed. (And, yes, I’m sure. I’m watching last week’s episode of The Resident as I write this. Matt Czuchry and Manish Dayal are among the best male eye candy on TV right now.) I still desire a physical relationship with another man. (Either of the aforementioned actors would be especially nice.) But that desire – as well as the act – is a sin. God has made that clear in his Word. After some more talk with Pastor Sjostrom, I finally came to an answer – or, at least, part of one.

- 3 -

I mistakenly assumed that after I asked Christ into my heart, after I surrendered myself to God, that my sin nature would be transformed. I thought what many torn, conflicted gay Christians and their family have thought: with enough prayer, genuine repentance, and strong faith I would no longer be a homosexual. God would change my unnatural desire, and I would be sexually attracted to women instead of men. I would throw out all the symbols of my gay pride that I had collected over the years – t-shirts, bracelets, baseball caps, the rainbow colored Apple watch bands – and I would begin my new life as a heterosexual man. 2 Corinthians 5:17: “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” Yes, it would be hard at first, but God and I would make this work, glory hallelujah amen!

But that’s not how salvation works. Yes, there was a transformation, but not quite the kind that I was expecting. It’s hard to put into words exactly what I felt in the weeks and months following that quiet prayer on that car ride home from work late the night of September 17, 2020. I knew for sure that something was different. To begin with, there was an almost instant peace and calm that settled over my entire being. All the anxiety, the fear, and the worry about the state of the world around me that had been plaguing me for many weeks melted away. In its place was a quiet, firm assurance that, no matter what happened from then on, I was in the hands of God. He would take care of me.

And then, in the days and weeks that followed that moment of salvation, I began to feel more than just spiritual peace and tranquility. The first was a hunger – an insatiable, ravenous desire to read my Bible. I had only the app on my iPad, and I started with Genesis 1. Every night, before bed, I would read two or three chapters. And then I would pray. It was awkward and nothing like the prayers that I heard time and again from my dad or my teachers in high school or my pastor back then. I stumbled over my words, I repeated myself, I kept forgetting what I wanted to say. And I still felt weird doing it. It was like I was talking to myself. But I kept praying nonetheless.

Gradually, as Christmas loomed closer and closer, and the more I read my Bible and talked to God, I felt something stronger inside of me. But it wasn’t anything physical, like an emotion. It was…something else, something in my soul. I imagined this new feeling as a few drops of red ink falling into a bowl of clear water. At first, the drops fall straight down, coloring only a little bit of the water. But then the ink begins to slowly spread, crimson tendrils that stretch outwards, eventually turning the whole water into the color of blood. That’s what it felt like was happening inside of me. My soul – the very thing that made me me was being changed from the inside out. And it felt damn good!

It was after my Christmas vacation, after ten days of rest and relaxation with my family in Idaho, that I noticed an even bigger change. When I returned to the daily grind of my two jobs, I realized that my whole attitude – and, by extension, my whole outlook on life – had been transformed. I was no longer the angry, anxious, frustrated, fearful man that was always pissed about something – usually the people who were my customers. Before, I was short tempered, impatient, always inwardly complaining whenever those around me were being difficult or annoying me in some way. Now, however, I was at peace. The difference in my new attitude from the old was as glaring as night from day. I greeted my customers with a smile. It was no longer an effort for me to be patient with the difficult ones. Nor did I feel the need to rant and rage on social media about the problems of the world, as I had been doing practically non-stop before I became saved.

It was like being wrapped inside joy, as if joy was something tangible – like a big, soft, warm blanket fresh from the dryer. I had to constantly check my reflection because I was sure I had a giant, stupid grin on my face all day long. And that feeling only got stronger the more I continued to read my Bible – now an actual book that I had bought from Amazon – and pray. That, too, was getting better. I no longer stumbled over my words or forgot what I wanted to say. The hunger to know God, to build a new relationship with my Creator, overshadowed everything else in my life. I lost interest in many of the things that had once taken up all my time, like watching TV or playing video games. All I wanted to do every night when I got home from a busy day was to open God’s Word and keep reading.

But there was one thing that didn’t change during all of that wonderful transformation. I’m still gay. The desire for that sin is still there, as strong and lustful as ever. Everything else about me seems different. I am, indeed, a new creature in Christ. So why am I still gay? Why is this particular thorn still lodged firmly deep in my flesh?

I still don’t have an answer. But I do have a theory. The transformation of the new believer in Christ is not like wiping the old operating system of your ten year old iMac. With a computer you can install a whole new operating system that’s free of the bugs, viruses and malware that plagued the old system. The hardware is still the same old hardware, but the software is brand new. Your computer has been transformed. It performs and operates like a new machine.

But we humans are not machines. We are creatures born of the Fall. Being saved in Christ has made us like new, but the old self – the old, corrupt nature – is still there. The old operating system hasn’t been wiped away. Rather, the new OS is now installed, and the two systems are at war with one another. Why is that, I wonder? Why doesn’t God simply transform our sin nature by wiping it way when He fills us with the Holy Spirit? Wouldn’t that be easier – and more complete – than forcing us to constantly battle our old selves in order to remain faithful and obedient to Him?

The honest answer is, I don’t know.

What I do know is that God, in His infinite wisdom, has chosen not to remove this particular thorn in my flesh. I am still gay.

The thorn in my flesh. Yeah, that phrase sounds familiar. In fact, it’s been rolling around in the back of my brain for several weeks now.

In 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, Paul writes of the “thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan sent to buffet me.” Those four verses, more than any other Bible passages that I’ve read and also read about, have continued to echo within me ever since the beginning of this journey. Many pastors and scholars agree that that the thorn Paul speaks of was of a spiritual nature, not a physical. Paul says that he “…besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.”

The thorn in my flesh.

What if I am in the same seat as Paul? What if my sexuality is the ‘thorn’ in my own flesh?

I think that part of the reason that God doesn’t just snap his fingers and wipe away our old self is because, without those old, sinful desires and temptations, we wouldn’t continually come back to Him for mercy, grace and forgiveness. It might have taken a little longer for me to surrender if the outside world hadn’t melted down last year, but I have no doubt now that God has always been working in my life, and He wants my love, worship and obedience. My homosexuality is a reminder from Him that I have a choice: I can give in to my sin nature and indulge my own desires, or I can turn from the flesh, take up my cross daily, and follow Him.

God knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows our sin nature, and He knows that when times are good, when everything is going our way, we often forget Him – just as the Israelites did over and over in the Old Testament. We get wrapped up in our daily lives, turn away from Him, and give our worship to false idols instead; or we just pay Him our weekly rituals and sacrifice on Sunday, and then put aside our Bibles until the following week. But it’s during the times of adversity, when God allows the trials and tribulations of life to afflict us, that we come to Him. We seek Him because He is our only source of comfort and peace. The storms in our lives remind us that God alone can save us, can heal us. Our afflictions draw us closer to Him. And, if we remain faithful to Him, there is much reward for our devotion and service. When the storm has passed, we often find a rainbow.

The rainbow was God’s covenant with Noah and his descendants that God would never again destroy the world with a flood. In our modern world the homosexual revolution of fifty years ago took the rainbow as a symbol of pride and diversity. When I entered my adult life as an out and proud gay man, I, too, adopted the rainbow as a symbol of pride in myself. I vowed to live my life on my terms, and I wouldn’t be cowered or ashamed into silence about who I was, of what I had been born as. But, of course, I have renounced all of that since becoming a new child of God. It is NOT my life, but His as a gift to me. I live now in complete service to Him, and Him alone.

But I’m not quite ready to throw away my rainbow bracelet that I wear on my right wrist every day. It is still a symbol to me – and to everyone I meet in daily life – but not the one that it used to be. I have found a new place beneath the rainbow created by God in the aftermath of that flood in Genesis. The peace and reconciliation I have long sought has been found at last, and the rainbow is a symbol of both my old life and my new one in God’s service. I don’t find that conflicting at all, just as I have no problem calling myself a gay Christian. Until such time as God, in his perfect timing and wisdom, decides to change my unnatural desire completely, I will always be a gay Christian, and the rainbow will be a sign of my personal covenant with Him.

The process of reconciling this issue, the spiritual traveling and soul searching that I have done over the last few months, has shown me clearly that God is my Lord and Savior. He has allowed this affliction so that I would do the work that I needed to reconcile what appeared to be a crisis of faith. I wouldn’t have experienced personal growth in my life – and my faith – without this conflict and pain. Yes, it has been painful. Peeling back the faded scars of old wounds wasn’t not all pleasant. I had to go back to that fifteen-year-old kid and have a long talk with him. (See section 5 of this post.) I wrote letters to my parents and my three brothers, apologizing for the way I treated them all those years ago. I have recognized how selfishly I have been living my adult life, and the pride of my old nature has screamed fiercely whenever I bow my knee and my heart every morning in prayer. There is now a fight within me – the old nature vs. the new self – that will never let up until I die. And, sometimes, that fight will be painful. And yes, I already know that there are times when I will fail, when I will give in to the temptation to break my new vow with God. But that failure is not as important to God as whether or not I stay in the fight. And I will stay. I’m in this for the long haul, and I know without a shred of doubt that God is on my side. He wants me to succeed.

Hallelujah, amen!

- 4 -

Most of you have seen my post on Facebook from three days ago. My only answer from God to this twenty-four-year-old conflict has been a call to celibacy. Until such time as he chooses to change my sin nature, to change my unnatural desire into a natural one, I have made the following vow to Him:

I take a vow of celibacy before God; that I have surrendered my life and my will unto Him; that I will not give in to the temptations of my sinful flesh; that I recognize my homosexual desire as a sin in His eyes, an abomination caused by the Fall; that He has saved my soul from eternal damnation, and I owe him nothing less than my whole heart, soul and mind.

I take this vow on the 3rd of February, 2021.

Amen.

- 5 -

I read a long time ago – probably in a textbook somewhere in college – that one of the tools therapists and psychiatrists use in their counseling of patients is to have their patients write a letter to their past selves. As I mentioned earlier in this post, I wrote letters to my family to apologize for how I had wronged them in the past. After some more thought and deliberation I decided to write one more letter, this time to that fifteen year old kid that used to be me.

At first, I thought this a stupid idea. I mean, how much more clichéd can one get? Plus, I’ve already treaded into dangerously melodramatic waters in this post. Is yet one more emotional, sappy passage needed?

Ehhhh…yes and no. Turns out, I had a lot more to say to myself than I thought at first, and, son-of-a-gun, I did feel remarkably better afterwards. Guess there was some genuine, therapeutic value to this little exercise after all.

So…here it is.

Hello.

It's been a long time.

Yes, I see you. You've been there all along, but only recently have I begun to really see you. You've been with me my whole adult life, affecting me, shaping me in ways I never realized until now. I thought I left you behind when I left high school. At various times in my life since, I've judged you, shunned you, tried to erase you, or just simply ignored you. I could never understand why you never had the courage to speak up, to ask for help. There were a few adults – or even your friends – who would have very likely sympathized and tried to help you. All you had to do was say something! But you didn't. You kept your secret, protecting it, guarding it like Gollum with his precious ring. I was the one who eventually had to reveal the secret to those around me when I was old enough and no longer ashamed of what I was.

But now I realize that instead of judging you and blaming you, there's one thing that I should have done long ago. I never said, “Thank you.” Thank you for giving me the strength and courage to step into the world as a confident, independent adult. It was because of you, what you went through silently as a teenager, that I developed the strength and resolve to live my truth as an adult. It was because of you that I knew what I wanted in life. It was never my desire to just go with the flow, to blend into the crowd and do whatever everyone else was doing. I did my own thing. And yes, it would have been better if I had been living that truth within God's will, but God, in His infinite wisdom, decided not to work His will just yet. He chose to wait while I forged my own path.

Part of me wishes that I could go back in time and be the adult that you needed. I would have embraced you, told you that you weren't a mistake; that God loves you just the way you are, including being gay. And, deep down inside, you knew that you were loved. Your parents told you that every day. But you always had that sliver of doubt in the back of your mind.

“Would you still love me if you knew my secret? Would you still accept me if I was gay?”

I, the adult looking back at you across the gulf of years between us, know the answer to that is a resounding “Yes! They have always loved you, no matter what!”

Part of me also wonders how our life would have been different if you had reached out to the one person that understood what you were going through; the one that knew your pain – and your secret. It was He that made you, after all. What I can see so clearly now is that it never occurred to you to reach out to God. You only knew Him through the church, through your teachers, through your parents, through all the endless rules, and restrictions, and demands that they all placed on you. That's what you rebelled against. God, to you, was just a system, an institution that governed every corner of your life. That institution would never understand your secret, would never accept you for the real you.

But He was there all along. He was there on those nights when you cried yourself to sleep. You were struggling to understand your pain, to understand the turmoil inside you, but you didn't have the words or the wisdom or the experience to fully realize it all. All that you knew was anger, frustration and fear. But God understood you, and He was there in the darkness, crying with you.

I want so badly to be there now, to wrap you in my arms and wipe away your tears and tell you that everything will be okay. Because it will be. You can’t see it now, but things will get better. You will find a way through this, and you will emerge on the other side with a strength and resolve that you never knew you had within you. The rest of your life is an as-yet-unwritten map of joys and blessings, failures and setbacks, triumphs and successes that will make all of this suffering worthwhile. You will know happiness that you couldn’t dream of – most of it found within the family that you don’t understand or get along with now. (There are 10 nieces and nephews that think you’re the greatest uncle ever, for example.) God has a plan for you, and, like the father of the prodigal son, He will be there with open arms when you finally come back home. He will accept you, just as you are.

But all of that is for later. For now, just know this: the storm will pass, and there will be peace.

You will find your rainbow.

#christianity #life #personal growth #homosexuality #gay

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atlaskat · 6 years ago

Text

Bakugou Katsuki -- psychological analysis (meta)

I’m not a psychologist, just a social science student studying for an exam, so take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also not totally up to date with the manga (I’ve read up until volume 17). Please feel free to add your own thoughts in the replies if you want to, or call me out if I make a mistake.

------

I won’t be speaking too much on biological factors, but I think it might be good to just go through some thoughts I have on the matter. In psychological theory, there’s something called “temperament”, which is essentially a child’s most basic form of relating to the world. A well-known experiment on temperament is the famous Marshmallow experiment, where small children were presented with a marshmallow. If they could wait a certain amount of time without eating it, they would receive one more. Follow-up studies on these children showed that those which showed restraint and could wait for the marshmallow had generally gotten further in life -- these children often developed the capability of making and sticking to long-term plans, and were able to work much more methodically than their peers.

I think Katsuki would be one of the children that waited for another marshmallow. At first glance, he seems very impulsive, rushing into battle and relying on his brute force -- but I’m actually very sure that this characteristic is part of his later development, and not part of his temperament. The reason I believe this is because he shows a very clear understanding of a much bigger and long-term picture. He is very committed to becoming a hero, and this commitment entails behavior which isn’t completely typical for people his age (such as studying hard, never slacking off despite his delinquent-like persona -- even in middle school --, sleeping early, training very hard to maintain his physical condition even as a young teen, etc). This shows his self-restraint, and his ability to plan ahead.

(I’m aware that the amount of pressure to do well in education is very different in many Asian countries, but compare Katsuki to for example Kaminari -- who also wants to be a hero, but is at the bottom of his class and doesn’t seem very good at planning or studying hard. What I think is most important here is to highlight Katsuki’s commitment).

I would also argue that heritability play a role in Katsuki’s personality and cognition. Intelligence and capability to learn have some hereditary factors, which I think apply to Katsuki. It’s difficult to say what came first in this regard though -- a child might be born with a slight affinity for learning (being able to memorize things quickly could be such a trait), but this doesn’t mean they become “smarter” because of it. In this specific case, the humanistic approach of “without the right support and challenge, no child will reach their full potential” is applicable.

Still, I think Katsuki was born with at least some higher capability to grasp new concepts, which I think plays a part in his, at least partial, understanding of what it takes to not just get on top but actually stay there. Quickly memorizing new information could also play a part in the way others view him -- thinking he’s skilled, amazing, even as a small child -- which in turn fuel both his willingness to learn and his ego. I think his kindergarten years are hugely important, more on it later.

The last thing I would like to say Katsuki was born with is extroversion. This personality trait can be studied in the brain -- the “reward systems” of the brain (mainly dopamine production and the middle brain as well as around nucleus accumbens) react stronger to positive emotions. I say “born with” because of its clear hereditary implications (and as I think this trait comes from his mother Mitsuki. However, it’s possible to theorize that instead of being born with extroversion, Katsuki was born more or less without neuroticism, which occurs when the activity of the amygdala is higher than normal. This leads people to be more anxious, cautious, and avoid situations which might cause unpleasant emotions). Katsuki was very young (2-4 years old) when he first began enjoying being the center of attention, which I think shows he was born with extroversion.

Katsuki’s attachment style Since we haven’t seen that many interactions between Katsuki hand his family, especially not as a child, this part will contain a lot of my own theories and headcanons, sorry about that.

Attachment styles are easily perceived phenomenons studied in depth by Mary Ainsworth and John Bowlby. Ainsworth noted that a child’s style of attachment manifests itself in two primary forms:

Stranger anxiety and separation anxiety. After 6 months of age a child will show an autonomous need to be close to, or seek comfort in, their “object of attachment”, usually a parent (often the mother). This need becomes apparent when the child is introduced to a stranger, or left alone, through signs of stress/anxiety.

Ainsworth devised a test to study these anxieties -- the “Strange Situation”. The test looks like this:

The child arrives in a new room together with the mother

A stranger appears

The child is left alone with the stranger

The stranger leaves

The mother returns

All in all this only took three minutes. The most interesting part was the child’s reaction once the mother came back -- its attachment style was most clear then.

Children usually have one main attachment style, which have two categories with a few subcategories. Secure attachment The child clearly prefers the mother to the stranger. It might cry or be anxious while the mother is gone, but stops as soon as she returns. These children go on to use their object of attachment as a secure base while they explore the world, meaning they return to seek comfort if they experience something negative, but quickly recover.

Later in life, these people can regulate emotions with more ease. They also cope better with adversity, and are able to connect better with people their age (forming deeper relationships). I believe Izuku was a securely attached child. Insecure attachment This form is more complicated. It has three main categories:

1. Resistant attachment The child has attached itself to in this case the mother, but the attachment is less stable. The child is anxious to let the mother out of sight -- doesn’t trust she will come back. The child may continue crying even after the mother returns and cradles it. 2. Avoidant attachment The child, generally doesn’t cry and doesn’t show its physical/emotional needs. Often it will act a bit aloof -- avoiding or completely ignoring the mother. It will act similarly towards the mother as with the stranger. These children have learned that their natural behaviors to attract attention from their objects of attachment will lead to rejection, so they suppress the needs for affection/comfort. More often than not they still experience the same levels of anxiety as other children, but don’t seek their parents to soothe them.

Disorganized attachment The child shows a lot of contradictory behavior, such as crying to be picked up, but immediately wanting to be let down again, often as a result of being scared of their object of attachment. People who were insecurely attached as children generally have more emotional problems, and are at higher risk for mental illness. I believe Katsuki had an avoidant attachment style. The attachment style of a child is largely based on the behavior of the object(s) of attachment, the parents. Insecure attachment is usually the result of parents not understanding/being unable to provide the comfort their infants seek. My theory is that Mitsuki is, like her son, a very determined and career-driven person. Like I’ve said before, I think she’s extroverted, but I also believe that she doesn’t easily connect deeply on an emotional level with people. This could be a result of how she herself was treated as a child -- as we tend to mimic our own parents -- or simply just her personality. Her own emotional needs might not take up a big part of her life, or she doesn’t really need others to comfort her, which in turn means she might assume others are the same. Ainsworth had a few criteria for a “good parent”:

1. Responsive 2. Permissive 3. Cooperative 4. Psychologically available

I think Mitsuki was, or is, lacking in most/all of these. Clearly, from what we’ve seen, she’s stubborn and knuckle-headed -- while she might have been responsive to baby Katsuki, she might not have known how to handle things beside his clear physical needs, like keeping him fed and clean. If she was also working during this period, as I would definitely assume (considering her job as a fashion designer and how well-off the family is; they live in a huge house), her availability might have suffered. Think like this:

- Mitsuki is tired, but has to finish work - Katsuki begins crying - Mitsuki changes his diaper and feeds him, but puts him down again to work - Katsuki starts crying after only a little while, but nothing ‘looks’ wrong (he’s fed, clean, warm, etc) so Mitsuki goes back to work - Katsuki continues crying, which frustrates Mitsuki because ‘nothing is wrong’; she might snap -- such as yelling, ignoring Katsuki further, or leaving the room entirely. As Katsuki begins to speak (let’s say at around 1,5 years), he might try to achieve emotional closeness by showing her his toys, trying to talk to her/play with her. If he is already ‘extroverted’ by this point he will be a lot more vocal than a timid child his age. If he hurts himself, or becomes scared, he probably tries to get Mitsuki’s attention at first, and I think this is where her biggest mistake might’ve lied. Based on how she treats Katsuki being kidnapped by the League of Villains I believe she disregards a lot of comfort-seeking behaviors as weakness.

“When you get down to it, you got taken and inconvenienced everybody cuz you’re so weak!!” I think this shows clearly how Mitsuki herself feels. Of course she worried for her son’s safety, but worrying about someone in itself is an inconvenience to her. She equates her own worrying with other people’s weakness -- if only people weren’t so weak, she wouldn’t have to be inconvenienced by worry. Mitsuki, like any parent, never wanted anything bad to happen to Katsuki. She was probably very aware that the world could be a dangerous place, so she tried to eradicate any ‘weakness’ within her own child so as he couldn’t be hurt by the world. I’m not sure where to place Masaru, Katsuki’s father, in all of this. A child can have several objects of attachment, but Bowlby expressed that usually there is a sort of hierarchy in the attachments themselves. For example, the child might favor one parent for playing, but prefer the other if they become scared. I think Mitsuki simply was the more important object of attachment in this case (this can be a result of having more skin-to-skin contact in the first months, or Masaru could for example have been working a lot of the time). Izuku on the other hand became securely attached to his mother Inko, as I think Inko is very emotional and open as a person. While the scene where Izuku cries about not having a quirk comes when he is about 4 years old, I still think this shows clearly that he seeks comfort in his mother. So, a little TL;DR before the next point: Katsuki was an ‘extroverted’ baby, who experienced a lot of emotional rejection from his mother very early on, which made him suppress his needs -- perhaps unconsciously starting to share his mother’s view on emotionality itself (and his own need for help at times) as weakness. Erikson’s life stages and Piaget’s cognitive development Another model I’ll be using is Erikson’s life stages as well as a theory by Piaget. We’ve passed the first life stage -- infant (0 - 1,5 years). This is where Erikson means that the child will develop a basic way of relating to the world: positive (the world is a place where my needs are met) or negative (the world is a place where I feel alone). Right before starting kindergarten I think Katsuki had developed the negative view, even though he was an ‘extroverted’ baby, as a result of his attachment style. - Izuku, on the other hand, developed the positive one. This meant he had a fundamental sense of hope for the world, which is very important later in life. The second stage -- toddler (1,5 - 3 years). Starting kindergarten is an extremely important step in Katsuki’s development. I think he would’ve been completely different without it -- I really can’t stress this enough. Avoidant-attached children will have to fulfill their needs somehow -- usually through validation from sources beside the object of attachment. ‘Avoidants’ can become narcissistic and overly confident, all as a means to protect themselves. This is exactly what happened with Katsuki, let me explain: As I’ve already explained, I think he was born with both extroverted qualities and an affinity for learning new things. His innate temperament was also perseverance. His avoidant attachment meant that it was seemingly very easy for him to be separated from his mother to go to kindergarten, although at the start, his negative view of the world might’ve made him cold/closed off. The kindergarten personnel catered to him, though. Through a lot of positive reinforcement (to which he is especially sensitive as of his extroversion), attention, and frequent intelligence-related challenges (such as new and complicated games, learning to read, etc) Katsuki developed a more positive outlook. According to Erikson, if one stage of life doesn’t “succeed”, it can be recuperated later, which I believe is what happened here. Where I think the kindergarten fell short however is with too much praise, or very easily letting Katsuki off the hook. I believe they saw very much potential in Katsuki from a young age -- perhaps because of this they were too eager to inforce how amazing they thought he was. Often times, we think that anger should be “released” and not repressed. We should get it out of our system, so to speak. However -- counter-intuitively -- we shouldn’t actually do this. Borrowing from the cognitive approach to psychology, the more often we think a certain thought or behave in a certain way, the stronger that mental connection becomes. I think Katsuki, because of his avoidant attachment, might’ve acted really aggressively as a child too. Instead of giving him strategies to cope with his anger the kindergarten teachers probably encouraged him to “release” it, which just made this cognitive scheme easier to access. Thus more likely to be activated again. Children who feel that their opinions and ideas are interesting and valuable will become more sociable, and take more charge, while children with overprotective carers will start doubting their own abilities. Where Mitsuki wasn’t able to do right, the kindergarten picked up the slack and followed Katsuki’s whims to encourage him. He probably developed really quickly, which probably stunned the teachers and carers. The adults’ attention fueled his confidence and ego, and this drew other children to him, which meant more attention.

According to Bandura and Skinner, both real consequences, imagined ones, and reinforcement dictate personality as well as social interactions. Sometimes though, something called “observational learning” occurs, in which no reinforcement is needed. A child often learns behavior by imitating something someone else does, and I’m not excluding this as a possibility to explain Katsuki’s bias/bigotry against quirkless people. Of course, cognitive bias also plays a major part here. As humans, we are wired to look for details which inforce our worldview.

Bandura’s model of reciprocal determinism. The individual and the environment affect each other mutually. This is part both of how Katsuki grows egotistical, and also his disdain for Izuku. Another important factor of personality is expectation. If an individual expects to be able to change the environment, they are more likely to attempt to do this. Without kindergarten intervention I believe Katsuki would have become a pessimistic, unmotivated person. Third stage (3 - 5 years) By this point Katsuki had already replaced his emotional needs and attachment to his mother with attention and admiration from his kindergarten peers/teachers (feeling superior to others). During this stage the child is supposed to develop a sort of pride of their own abilities. Katsuki was already an independent child (also because of being an ‘avoidant’), but this is where it might’ve went a little overboard. The development of his quirk was, as we all know, a turning point in both Katsuki’s view of himself/the world and his relationship to Izuku. This is mainly because of the quirk development. I’ve already stated that the kindergarten let too much slide -- the bullying of Izuku started even before the quirk development -- but now that becomes more important, as Katsuki was now capable of doing a lot more damage. Developing the quirk solidified Katsuki’s inflated ego -- now he was sure that he was the most awesome kid alive. It also solidified Izuku’s worthlessness to him (of course, if Izuku wasn’t useless, surely he should’ve developed a good quirk too?), which is how “Deku” came to be. At the same time, Izuku “needed help with everything”, but he was also really helpful towards others. He was sensitive, emotional, but still brave -- someone like that was worrying to Katsuki even back then. Katsuki -- an ‘avoidant’ -- repressed his needs, while Izuku indulged in them, openly showing this ‘weakness’. This is where Piaget’s theory comes in. According to the theory, people develop “schemata” and “concepts” which are cognitive structures.

1. A schema is a mental representation which covers a range of behaviors, e.g.: a child learns to pick up a bottle. It learns that it can pick up other things too, so the action of picking something up becomes a schema. 2. A concept is a mental structure which relates to the environment. A concept of an object entails for example what that object does, what it’s used for, and its relation to other objects. Children develop concepts and schemata very early on, and after that there are two processes which occur heavily in the first few years, and then continue throughout life: 1. Assimilation -- new information is modified to fit existing schemata/concepts. For example, a child making engine sounds while playing with a block of wood has assimilated the block into their concept of a car.

2. Accommodation -- the new information can’t fit into existing schemata/concepts, so new ones have to be made. This is part of changing worldviews -- let’s say a little boy only has two categories for animals: birds and fish. But then he sees a dog. If he says “that’s a fish”, he has assimilated the new information, but if he makes up a whole new category of animals, then he has accommodated the new information. There are periods of life in which a child will assimilate more than it accommodates (and vice versa). Piaget called these periods “cognitive equilibrium”. The counterpart is “disequilibrium”. This might be part of something which happens during the first few years of life -- there is an explosion of neurons, brain cells, during this time. When the accommodation has occurred, the child will go back to assimilating. Katsuki developed a lot during kindergarten, and therefore created lots of new concepts and schemata. For example, “I am awesome and everyone else is not”, is a cognitive scheme which enables one to enact their superiority over others. “Deku is useless and I can hit him” is another such concept. However, ‘Deku’s uselessness’ is something Katsuki came up with as a defense mechanism -- as stated before, Izuku indulged in (normal) behavior which Katsuki saw as weakness. But, as any child, he still experienced anxieties and wanted affection. This went against his conviction that sensitivity was weakness, so Katsuki projected all these needs onto Izuku. Punishing Izuku then became a way of punishing himself for the things he wanted. This worked for a while, but then Katsuki became aware of the fact that Izuku was brave enough to go against him, and not only that, but look down on him enough to assume he could need help. He, the most awesome person ever.

This could mean two things.

Sensitivity is not weakness, and it’s not wrong to want it

Katsuki is still so weak that even people like Izuku are a threat

Accommodation is a more difficult process than assimilation, so Katsuki avoided changing his view of sensitivity, which was so deeply ingrained, by adopting the second possibility. But this was scary, and incredibly disturbing to Katsuki, which meant the hostility towards Izuku especially grew. So this is when the bullying picked up a bit. Stage four -- 6 - 12 years During this stage most children begin going to school, the stakes and expectations are higher, etc. I believe Katsuki thrived in a school environment too, with steadily increasing levels of challenge. This is also when both Katsuki’s and Izuku’s admiration for All Might increased, for different reasons. In Katsuki’s eyes, All Might was so strong he always won no matter what, which enabled him to get in more fights. Winning these fights fueled his ego, and he began believing he could surpass All Might. Stage five -- 13 - 18 years Ooh, here’s when it gets juicy. I believe the bullying might not have been too intense back in stage 4. Erikson defined this stage as “identity against role diffusion”. During their teen years, most people begin identifying all the different sorts of roles they have in life, which might cause some anxiety. That’s why a lot of teenagers are experimenting with their identity, and go through what adults often disregard as “phases”. This searching is very important however, because every person needs to have a secure sense of “this is me” to be mentally healthy. We need to believe there’s a core in our identity, which will stay the same even if we or our surroundings change. Middle school Katsuki and Izuku are both 14 when the series starts. Katsuki is still delusional, prideful, and narcissistic. His teachers think he is powerful enough that it’s inevitable he will go on to UA, which only confirms his view of himself. Right now he tries to act unbothered, but Katsuki is painfully aware of the fact that Izuku hasn’t abandoned the dream to be a hero, even though he is quirkless. All of Katsuki’s intimidation tactics -- blowing up the notebook, for example -- are all desperate attempts to discourage Izuku from even trying, because Katsuki is still scared and disturbed by Izuku in general. Perhaps more so than usual, because I think Katsuki’s trying to find his identity right now as well, especially since it’s time to apply to high school. “Leaving Izuku behind” might be the most symbolic thing Katsuki can think of. He feels as though he’s been stuck with Izuku for years, and wants to hammer home the differences between them, defining his own identity in the process. Still, Izuku is going to apply to UA. I know Katsuki looks pretty unbothered while telling Izuku to take a swan dive off the roof, but I’m 100% certain he’s absolutely shaking inside. It really is a last resort type of thing. Which doesn’t make it alright, of course, but I think it’s important to keep in mind that Katsuki by this point is a vulnerable young teen, unconsciously terrified of going into the world without knowing exactly who he is. Izuku’s response to this bullying and especially the swan-dive line are interesting to me. He doesn’t get depressed, instead he thinks to himself that the idiot Kacchan would have instigated a suicide if he really went through it. This is partly why I think Izuku is securely attached to his mom, even if he now doesn’t approach her with all his problems. He developed a strong sense of hope for the world, more on that in a bit. The Sludge Villain incident is a big stepping stone for both Katsuki and Izuku. We see Izuku genuinely almost give everything up after meeting All Might, and still, even as he saw someone who had bullied him, he still rushed in without a second thought as soon as that person seemed to need help. And in reality, Katsuki was asking for help. You can’t say this isn’t the face of someone who needs saving.

Of course, Katsuki catches up with Izuku just after the incident, telling him “I didn't need you to save me!”, the works.

He’s struggling really hard here to assimilate the new information. He doesn’t want to accept it. When he fell into the creek back as a child, I don’t think he actually needed any help, he probably would’ve been fine. The problem then was Izuku thinking he needed help, which he equated to being looked down upon. In this moment, the problem is that Katsuki really needed the help. Had Izuku not been there, not spurred All Might into action, Katsuki might very well have suffocated. And he knows this, he’s a smart kid. That’s why his reaction is so extreme this time. Accepting that he could’ve died if Izuku wasn’t there means, again, that there are two possibilities to Katsuki:

1. He is weak and needs Izuku’s help of all people 2. He has been wrong about sensitivity all along Both of these mean he has been wrong, both are unacceptable to him. But I think the first one, at least unconsciously, does become its own schemata. Some time after the incident Katsuki stays silent when it’s again noted that Izuku is applying for UA. On the first day there, he only tells Izuku to get out of his way, but doesn’t mock or question his presence. Izuku even comments that “ever since that day, he stopped tormenting me.” They even sit beside each other without any real problems. I think this again is due to two things: 1. Katsuki is hyper-focused on his real goals right then, he needs to do really well 2. He has accepted “Deku is applying for UA” as a new schemata, which is easier to swallow than accepting either the sensitivity or needing help thing.

High school -- UA There’s of course a minor hitch once Katsuki realises Izuku was accepted, but I think that’s fairly standard. What I think is more important for Katsuki is the fact that entering UA means coming into contact with other people his age who are more advanced than he would’ve ever thought. He’s been so far up that nobody could catch up to him for years, but suddenly, other people are merely steps away if not on the same level. The fact that other people are so close to surpassing him, and seeing Izuku has somehow developed a powerful quirk, opens the gate to the possibility that Izuku might surpass him too. As many have noticed, Katsuki is much more subdued since starting at UA. I think he’s beginning to warm up to other people (they’re not scared of him, he can’t dominate them like that). But I think his anxiety has slowly been growing, leading to the outburst/fight at Ground Beta, with All Might’s retirement as a final straw. I want to analyse him further (and even more how he’s affected by avoidant attachment!!!), but this will have to do for now. Please let me know what you thought, if you agree, if you’d like more, etc. It’s really encouraging. Have a nice day!

#long post #bnha #bnha meta #bnha psychology #psychology #bnha analysis #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #kacchan #midoriya izuku #deku #bnha deku #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakudeku #psychological analysis #mitsuki bakugou

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missjosie27 · 5 years ago

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Year 3 Part 1- No Cursed Vaults Allowed

Hey everyone! I’m back with Year 3 for the adventures of my MC! This will feature some new characters including an in depth look at his parents. I have a feeling it will be the best year yet! Enjoy! Comments and feedback welcome!

Summertime was an ideal season for many things, muggle and wizardfolk alike: cookouts, nights out at the pub, parties, celebrations, holidays to the beach, picnics, visitations to relatives, etc. It was just too bad David Grant was given no opportunity to enjoy any of it.

The start of the summer break began badly and only got worse from there. Unlike the end of his first year, there was no hiding the truth of what he had been up to. Some junior reporter managed to get wind of the cursed ice story despite all attempts of the school to lessen its impact. Though he wasn’t mentioned by name, his parents had gone through this nightmare once before and it didn’t take a genius to know their second son indulged in the cursed vaults same as their first born. The result was not pretty.

His mother’s reaction was the most severe- she railed for hours about irresponsibility, jeopardizing his education, the fact she told him not to get up to the same type of foolishness as his brother and what that meant to the family. All the while, David winced and tried to resist covering his ears, though a small woman of only 5’4, her presence was no less intimidating by those who knew her. The piercing blue eyes and mother bear persona was enough to make even the largest man quake in their boots. Which meant he received no help from his dad in that regard.

His father, a man of about six feet with still solidly dark brown hair and a goatee, was not the type to scream and yell but he was the kind of man to take a person aside and issue them a soft but stern warning, which in this case meant wagging his finger and telling him to obey his mother’s wishes.

It was a dynamic that had been going on for four years now going on five. Ever since the disappearance of his older brother both parents took a turn for the worse in their behavior and attitude not only towards him but each other. As opposed to long dinner conversations, the family tended to eat in silence, where long walks in the backyard meadow were once common, David was forbidden from venturing even twenty feet outside the house, where affection and love once dwelled was now replaced by tension and distance.

His parents thought him naïve but the thirteen year old wasn’t stupid. One didn’t need to be a full grown adult to see how fragile things had become. To make matters even worse, all of this tension was redirected back on him. Both of his parents worked, his mother at the tea shop in London, his father in the Office of International Cooperation as the envoy to the United States, but when not occupied with these tasks they focused on him. And the summer of 1986 was filled with reminders about the upcoming year and what he was not to do.

If it wasn’t for his grandfather, Thomas Grant, he might have gone crazy.

“Mum and Dad aren’t happy, Grandad. They don’t do much really. Except feed me and occasionally yell.”

The slender, graying haired man gave a sad chuckle as pulled his grandson close to him.

“They’re going through a rough time now, David. Given the circumstances.”

“But I’m not like Jacob. I didn’t purposefully try to get involved in that vault stuff. It just…sucked me in.”

“I’m willing to bet Jake had a similar story,” Thomas laughed, deep and true. His sense of humor was well known among his family and peers.

“Grandad, I’m serious,” David responded though he couldn’t resist a smile himself. “They’re suffocating. How am I supposed to do anything with them always on my back?”

“There’s always Hogwarts,” came the witty response. When his grandson didn’t laugh this time around, the patriarch of the Grant family turned serious, cupping a finger underneath David’s chin.

“David don’t judge your parents too harshly. Just remember that you aren’t the only one who misses Jake. There must be sufficient time to heal. And when that happens, things will turn around. In the meantime, keep your head up and your ear to the ground.”

The young teenager nodded, knowing that if there was anyone he could trust, it was his grandfather, who often spoke plainly about topics such as these.

“I will.”

“There’s a good lad. Now let’s enjoy more of this summer sunshine shall we, David?”

“David?”

The sound of his mother’s voice brought him back to earth.

“David, are you listening?”

Snapping out of the flashback he quickly replied, “Yes mum.”

“You didn’t promise me,” she warned him as they sat at the table eating breakfast. She had made eggs, sausage, and picked an assortment of fruits but on the eve of going back to school, there was one more lecture to be had.

“Promise that I won’t try to touch the giant squid? Yeah, sure, I can promise that.”

But his attempt at humor was mitigated by a stern look from his father, looking down from his Saturday paper.

“We do not need our second son engaging in this dangerous cursebreaking business,” Heather Grant repeated for the umpteenth time. “It leads to nowhere good. Especially with Jacob gone. Please promise me you will not attempt to find more of these cursed vaults.”

“You’re mother is right, son,” the soft voice of his father echoed. “Your job is to further your education at Hogwarts, make some friends, and meet a few girls along the way,” he added with an uptwitch of his mouth.

“This is a time for you to learn and grow. Not put yourself in needless danger. Listen to your teachers. Listen to Dumbledore. Pay no attention to whatever temptations these vaults might have for you.”

If you had bothered to pay attention to my side of it, you’d remember I don’t CARE what’s inside of the vaults, David thought bitterly. I’m trying to find Jacob so we can be a family again. So YOU don’t have to cry every week about losing your son

In the end, the young teen held his tongue, buried his feelings as he always did on the subject and did as he was told. If it would save his mother that much grief to tell her what she wanted to hear, so be it.

“I promise I will, mum. Cross my heart and swear to die.”

“David!”

“Kidding.”

He was enveloped in an enormous hug, almost causing him to choke on his food.

“We love you, sweetie. Always remember that.”

Even as he acknowledged her words and reciprocated that love, David couldn’t help but feel bitter.

“I love you too.”

In a summary, this was why he hated the summer holidays. Hogwarts couldn’t come soon enough.

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The arrival at King’s Crossing couldn’t come soon enough. Using an old Chevrolet that his grandfather collected on his travels in the United States and later passed down to his son, they drove to London on a lovely September day. For David, however, he was just looking forward to getting away from his mother’s smothering influence. Unfortunately, he couldn't get away from her without one last embarrassing hug and kiss on the forehead.

“Stay safe,” she said, as a few sixth years passed by and snickered. David would have hexed them right then and there were his arms not constricted and his wand in his back jeans pocket. “And remember…”

“I know, mum. No cursed vaults.”

“He understands, Heather,” his father spoke up, in a rare moment of support. He also hugged his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Be well, David. You know we’re always an owl away if you need us.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

With a last wave and a goodbye, the train whistled, and David hopped on. A sadness permeated through his heart as he looked out of the window one last time at his parents. Their faces were neutral, even distant as they turned and walked away, not even bothering to hold hands or give any sign of affection.

Sighing, the now third year Gryffindor wondered if things would ever return to normal in his family and what it would take to mend the wounds inflicted. In his heart, he already knew the answer. The problem was his parents had already forbidden it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It didn’t take long for him to find Rowan and grab a compartment. They were later joined by Charlie and Ben as well as Penny, who decided to spend her train ride with the Gryffindor boys this year.

“It’s great to see you again, David!” the pretty blonde greeted him with her usual hug. She did the same with the rest of the crew, causing Ben and Charlie to blush. “How was your summer?”

“Not good,” came the monotone, blunt response. “Unless you count not being allowed twenty feet outside of the house trapped with overbearing parents to be fun.”

Ben hesitated as he tried to formulate the words.

“Did your mum and dad…you know…”

“Find out about the cursed vault? Yes. And I have the Daily Prophet to thank for that. My parents saw the article and they put two and two together. So they know everything and made me promise a million times I would stop associating myself with the vaults.”

“Sounds rough, mate,” Charlie spoke sympathetically. “My mum saw it too but after I told her everything, she was very understanding.”

“Goddamn it, Charlie you told her what we got up to?”

David hadn’t meant to sound upset, but the last thing he needed was for his friends’ parents to think he was an obsessed nutcase as well.

“Dave, give me more credit than that,” the second eldest Weasley said raising his hands in the air. “I didn’t give her any specific details, just the gist. When Bill told her it was because you were trying to find your brother she immediately melted. I think she’s definitely going to send you a sweater this year.”

Not knowing what a sweater had to do with anything, David nevertheless relented.

“Sorry, Charlie. Didn’t mean to bite your head off. Things are just….tense at home. I’m very glad to be going back to Hogwarts.”

“Hey if anyone understands it’s me and Bill,” Charlie chuckled. “There are seven Weasley children in our humble abode. Family disputes are quite common.”

“Speaking of which, where is the lanky tosser?” David smiled. “He usually joins us by now.”

“Funny you should mention that. He’s out fulfilling his new prefect duties. Got the letter just last month. He’s getting himself acquainted in a fancy compartment as we speak.”

“He’s going to make an excellent prefect,” Rowan blurted out excitedly. “The best ever!”

“I suppose he won’t be able to help us out with the vaults anymore given his new position,” Ben suggested sadly. “Prefects enforce the rules, not break them.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Charlie said while munching through a sandwich. “Bill isn’t above breaking a few rules when it suits him. He’s a leader not a tattle tale.”

“That reminds me,” Penny perked up. “Have you given any thought to the broken wand and the book you found?”

That was an interesting question. David had not told his parents about the treasures that lay within the vault and locked them in his trunk to prevent them from being discovered. As to their true purpose, that was still anyone’s guess.

“Of course, I have. They’ve been stored away ever since I found them. But I can’t figure out what they’re for.”

“I wish I had been able to come with you into the vault,” Rowan lamented. “If I had, maybe we would have been able to translate more of that ancient Aramaic on the column. I’ve been doing a lot of research over the summer and I have some theories…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” David assured him. “I’m just not sure we have much to go off of right now.”

“What about Merula?”

He leaned back in his compartment seat, as though wholly unconcerned.

“What about her?”

“You know she’s going to want revenge since you got to the vault before her last year. Not to mention the failed bubotuber prank she tried to pull.”

“Oh yeah, that was funny. Remind me to send her a biting tea cup for her birthday this year.”

“David.”

Rowan’s serious tone forced him to give a serious answer, even though his mind couldn’t be farther from his Slytherin rival.

“She’s going to try and provoke me like she usually does. It’s the best we can hope for. She doesn’t know a damn thing about the vaults and as long as we keep it that way, Merula Snyde won’t be anything more than a minor nuisance in potions class.”

“No offense, David,” Penny warned. “But Merula’s a lot cleverer than you give her credit for. She’s mean, but she isn’t stupid. If any wind of the next vault gets to the Slytherins, she’s going to be the first to jump on it.”

Bollocks, she’s right

David didn’t like to give any credence to any Slytherin, much less Merula but he had to acknowledge that the blonde Hufflepuff brought up a good point. She was not one to give up easily or at all and would not fail to brag about any progress with the vaults or information regarding his brother. He had not taken her up on that offer the previous year but if the flow of intel ran dry, might he have to make a deal with her?

No, never. Merula can piss up a tree for all I care

“I understand your concern, guys. But there’s not a whole lot we can do right now. I don’t even know if I can go after the next vault.

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Ben challenged to his surprise. “Since when does David Grant let rules stop him?”

David didn’t respond, instead choosing to close his eyes and take a small nap before arriving at Hogwarts. Those were questions he preferred not to answer at the moment.

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The rest of the train ride was relatively quiet. Penny had to wake up David and Charlie from their respective naps (Charlie also had a habit of snoring) to put on their robes but that aside, it was a peaceful trip without any hijinx.

Heading up to the massive castle was now a familiar routine. The familiar call of ‘Firs’ years’ could be heard above the chatter of the thousand strong student body as he waved a friendly hello to Hagrid who greeted him back. Invisible carriages carried them and their luggage up to the front hall where Peeves was waiting with an assortment of fanged frisbees and had to be cleared away by Professor McGonagall. Yes, being a third year did have one gigantic perk: routine. Being thirteen meant you were no longer a little kid and people showed you a modicum of respect.

They weren’t the only ones moving up in the world. As the respective houses gathered at their tables in the Great Hall, David spotted a familiar long haired, tall red headed Weasley sporting an impressive red and gold badge. It didn’t take long for them to embrace.

“Bill Weasley, you wanker. Can’t make time for us on the train anymore?”

Bill grinned in response.

“For you lot? As if.”

“Seriously, though. Congratulations on becoming prefect. I know you really wanted it last year.”

“Thanks, David,” the eldest Weasley thanked. “Mum practically died of joy when I got the letter. Really, I’m just glad Dumbledore believed I earned it.”

“Just don’t let it get to your head,” Charlie teased him as the group took their seats besides and across from one another. His brother rolled his eyes.

“You know me better than that. Percy on the other hand, God forbid he ever becomes a prefect…”

“Who’s Percy?” Rowan asked, clearly not aware of the numerous siblings the family possessed.

“He’s our younger brother,” Charlie explained. “Younger than Bill and I, but older than Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. He’s a bit of a wet blanket.”

“He comes to Hogwarts next year. You’ll understand when you meet him,” Bill said, his smile becoming more of a grimace. “By the way, I wanted to ask you sooner, but I couldn’t get away from the prefect training. Did you find any clue or hint about the next vault?”

“Don’t know anything more than you do, I’m afraid,” David said, shaking his head.

“You’re still interested in the vaults even though you’re a prefect?” Rowan asked Bill.

“Hey, just because I’m a prefect doesn’t mean I’ve lost my appetite for curse breaking. I just have to be more…discreet about it from now on.”

Charlie grinned at the rest of his friends as a way to say ‘I told you so’. Ben looked mildly surprised while Rowan was positively aglow with admiration.

“Do you think Dumbledore is going to punish us for investigating the vaults?” the sandy haired third year asked aloud.

David shrugged. “I don’t think so. He asked me to stay away from them, but he wasn’t upset.”

“No way that he could be. You saved the entire school from being turned into a frozen wasteland,” Rowan pointed out.

But before anyone could say anything more, the enormous oak doors burst open as Professor McGonagall entered the room with this year’s batch of first years in tow. The older students immediately quieted down as the protocol and procedure for the sorting began. Time for chatter on the vaults would have to come later.

In another instance of the inconsistency of time passing, David observed that the sorting always took longer when you were on the outside looking in as opposed to when you were the one being sorted. The hat’s song was entertaining enough as it always was, but just how many first years had last names beginning with the letter ‘D’? He was also quite hungry as evidenced by his stomach growling. The feast couldn’t come soon enough.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the sorting ended, and Dumbledore took center stage.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts!” the white bearded warlock boomed happily. “I’m pleased to have all of you new and returning students here for another year of magical learning and self discovery. To those returning pupils with empty bellies, I apologize for making you suffer through another one of my speeches, but I must address certain concerns before we dig into our sumptuous feast.”

David could have sworn the old man’s eyes twinkled at the sound of the groaning from the student body.

“First, as a reminder: The Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds to all students regardless of year. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has also pressed me to tell you that the list of banned items at Hogwarts has increased to one hundred and fifty seven. A full list can be viewed on his office door. As always, Madam Hooch will announce the dates of coming Quidditch tryouts for your respective house teams.

“I would be remiss, however, if I did not mention the Erumpent in the room. As many of you know, last year, Hogwarts was afflicted with cursed ice caused by one of the long rumored cursed vaults. The curse was released as a result of an outside entity tampering with them. Therefore, I am ordering everyone in this room to stay away from the rest. It is said that each vault unleashes a unique curse and I will not have my students and faculty endangered again. And while it is true that some of our students broke the vault curse and saved the school, it is also true they put themselves and others at great risk by doing so. As such, I am forbidding any student from seeking out the remaining ones. The penalty will be severe, especially for repeat offenders.

“But do not let my warning damper your spirits. Please, enjoy the feast and rest well for your classes tomorrow.”

Dumbledore clapped his hands twice and the usual assortment of foodstuffs and goodies appeared in front of them. But his warning did take away some of David’s appetite and Ben was the first to address the comments as the feast commenced.

“So much for Dumbledore not being upset…”

“Do you think he knows we were all involved? Are we going to get detention?” Rowan said in a panicked whisper.

“Relax, both of you,” Bill lightly chided. “If any of us were getting detention we’d know by now. We just have to decide what to do moving forward. David, what do you think?”

That was the problem, however. He had no idea where to go from here. On the one hand, listening to Dumbledore and his parents did seem to be the wisest course. There was a lot to consider- his schooling, his reputation, not to mention the possibility of having his wand snapped by the Ministry. But deep within the pits of the fun and witty David Grant was a hole that he never let anyone see, not even his own parents. The hole that symbolized the loss of his brother and the burning desire to find him again. He didn’t want to disobey the headmaster or mum and dad, but how could he sit idly by with newfound information on Jacob and not act on it.

“Let’s heed Dumbledore for now,” came the muted response. “I need to think on this.”

Rowan and Ben looked at each other as if unsure what to make of the situation but they didn’t press the issue. Bill nodded, his perception much more adept than the third years also said nothing but nevertheless kept his good cheer.

“Hey David…catch.”

The turkey leg thrown at his plate nearly caused him to jump ten feet in the air, as memories of Merula and bubotuber pus came to the forefront of his mind.

“Wanker,” David laughed as Charlie snickered and Bill winked.

The rest of the evening was much more pleasant as they ate to their hearts content, joked around, discussed their holidays, classes, Quidditch, and various topics. As they were dismissed from the Great Hall and made their way up to bed (Bill had to lead the first years on their annual tour) Jae, ever the smuggler that he was, presented them with a new kind of sweet that Filch had failed to ban: Animal Augments. Basically, they gave one the temporary ability to sound like a random wild animal. Ben’s lion roar woke up the fourth years in the next dorm and David nearly pissed himself laughing at Rowan getting the donkey themed one. As Jae put it- “galleons well spent.” These were the moments that made Hogwarts worthwhile.

Cursed Vaults or not, it was good to be back.

#david grant #hogwarts mystery #rowan khanna #ben copper #bill weasley #charlie weasley #albus dumbledore #parents #jae kim #penny haywood #grandparents #gryffindor #hphm fanfiction #hphm #fanfiction #hphm mc

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bat-lings · 6 years ago

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Hey, you mentioned in an earlier ask any Damian that Tim was also low-key sexist and tbh I'd love examples cause I feel like this has never been brought up and it's interesting??? Anyway, thanks Ur stuffs super interesting and insightful!

Thanks for your interest & nice words!

Let’s be clear tho Anon (I assume it’s the same Anon both times?), you are 200% entitled to disagree with me. Yes I am unapologetic about my opinions and write looong paragraphs of questionable pertinence to give arguments but like. The goal is to explain “why I think what I think,” never to tell you “why you should think what I think”. You’re very much welcome for the Damian post btw

Now I think Tim, precisely, shows internalized sexism. Doesn’t change the end result all that much though.

Random sequences

Let’s get the most straightforward stuff out of the way.

[Robin (1991) #1 || Robin (1993) #43 & #179 || Detective Comics (1937) #687]

Dunno about you but the first two are particularly cringey for me. That and the agenda section.

Okay to be fair: He does attempt to defend Lynx (first example) beforehand, throwing the on-point “she doesn’t have to go with you if she doesn’t want to” line. All is good for five seconds and then he goes “maybe she likes that treatment”.

We may have different sensibilities but the mere fact that that went through his head for even a second is the perfect illustration of what’s internalized sexism imo. Conscious thought & action level: A+ behavior (being able to identify a visibly wrong situation and taking action against it). Unconscious level: blatant sexism (”maybe she likes it” aka a less visible/more subtle manifestation of bigotry).

He has a… pretty specific way to regard women’s agenda. And is overall patronizing to straight-out disrespectful.

Tim’s treatment of Steph is a well-known fact but this is a call-out post so have a non-exhaustive bunch of examples:

[Robin (1993) #4, 41, 35, 44 || Batgirl (2009) #8]

On we go and see how there’s absolutely no ill-intent on Tim’s part in the next examples, yet I have a big problem with how he’s considering the ladies’ agency:

[Robin (1993) #182 || Red Robin #10]

Notice how it’s all about him whether the lady obeys him or not. His failure to impose the necessary authority or his failure to give the right directions. The girls’ choice/independence just doesn’t factor in. It’s a cop and a vigilante we’re talking about, not some civilians caught in the crossfire.

((btw it’s disputable but his apology in RR#10 is too little too late as far as I’m concerned. Tim gets a pass since Nicieza has him referring to his dumbass traitor!Steph arc but he doesn’t deserve any additional credit either. Okay no I’m being mean, he gets kudos for making a step in the right direction with Steph. Tiny kudos. It’s a tiny step.))

[Red Robin #5]

Tam? Okay. She’s the civilian who got embarked into this crazy story, she is in need of saving. But Prudence? Maybe don’t automatically assume that the assassin needs you to pat her on the back to even consider pursuing her own wishes, Timmy.

Tim can be arrogant to everyone yeah (more on that later), but I don’t remember him negating a man’s agenda like that.

[Robin (1993) #25]

Yeah the kid who will feel betrayed when Bruce tells his identity to Steph just elected to tell her name to Connor whom they both don’t know well yet. While talking in her place rather than letting her answer for herself (something he’s done on several occasions). Then he attempts to decide for her whether she has a right to participate, again. On that note: thank you Connor for putting Tim in his place, that sure doesn’t happen often.

[Robin (1993) #6 & #28]

Uh, yes you can. Give the adult woman who’s been handling Gotham’s streets since before you were born some credit, Tim?

As for Helena, the scene in itself is… well, not okay exactly. He’s basically dismissing her wish to handle a personal matter alone, which could imply he doesn’t think the other adult woman who’s been handling Gotham’s streets since before he was born can handle the case.

I’m just putting it with his constant attempts to keep Steph from participating, often to cases that concerned her directly, and how he tends to take it personally when she doesn’t obey… but he casually brushes off Helena when she’s saying she’ll handle a personal case alone. Double standard? Maybe I got too specific a reading but. I don’t remember that sort of thing happening between Tim and male characters– do call me out if I’m remembering wrong though.

And then there’s the “another vigilante” remark.

Anyway yes Tim can be arrogant towards both men and women. Much like Damian being antagonizing to everyone didn’t negate the possibility of him being sexist, Tim being generally arrogant doesn’t negate that possibility for him either.

Plus the only male characters I’ve seen him be that patronizing with are Chris Kent in World’s Finest #3, and Damian. The ten-year-old who’s regularly antagonizing him and does deserve to be put in his place. Oh yeah, and maybe Dodge, another brat. So yeah I do think there’s a slight difference between Tim’s treatment of men and women, if only in frequency. (and in intensity tbh.)

Yes, he’s been consistently disregardful to his girlfriends.

Anon, you say very rightfully that we shouldn’t automatically assume it’s due to them being girls. Please believe it’s not a conclusion I’ve come to automatically though:

A) While I realize that Tim only having canon girlfriends is due to heteronormativity & homophobia rather than a conscious writing intent to highlight any character trait, assuming that he wouldn’t have behaved better with boyfriends is pure speculation– aaand I am totally speculating he’d behave better if only because he’s never that patronizing or that dismissive of his peers’ agency (examples above) when they’re men. that’s part of why I ship tim/kon more easily than tim/steph.

B) Like with everything I brought up on this post I’m not considering his behavior with his romantic partners separately. It’s a character fault that could take its roots in several things, but Tim’s global characterization makes me think the root is sexism.

C) I understand why you’re thinking there’s no reason to conclude his disrespect is due to them being women; in the same vein I think there’s no reason to conclude it’s not. It’s kind of a stalemate and both conclusions are valid.

Skipping Tim’s habit to break up by letter or by phone, ‘cause that’s not cool and obviously disrespectful but even I think it’s more due to cowardice/inadequacy than sexism.

I don’t think I need to speak about Steph again. Let’s go with Ari. Who Tim casually cheated on by kissing Steph on several occasions.

Being a cheat is, in itself, a distinct character flaw that doesn’t always takes its root in sexism. Plus it’s something I have my reasons to assume Tim has grown out of.

It’s his reaction when he learns about Ariana “"cheating”“ on him (she went ice-skating with another dude once in the 87 times Tim stood her up) that ticks me off. Btw and unlike Tim who didn’t seem to feel all that guilty, Ariana did try to tell him about it but he fell asleep during her confession.

[Robin (1993) #15 & #17]

Two things bother me here, a lot more than the cheating in itself: the possessiveness and the hypocrisy. You really don’t have a right to go all “My Ariana” and to chew her out for the grand treachery that is ice-skating when you’ve been casually kissing Steph, Timbo. What those panels prove is that there’s a double standard in Tim’s head. Which one exactly is up to your interpretation and that’s probably where we’ll end up disagreeing. I read it as the “proper girls don’t get close to several boys at one time, but boys who get close to several girls are either ladies men or boys being boys” double-standard, hence Tim’s blatant lack of self-awareness here.

Btw and the thing that solidified my opinion here: Tim, as a rule, tends to be pretty self-aware, at least retrospectively. He puts himself into question and has no problem admitting when his judgment was clouded. I dunno take YJ #55 or Robin #119 for example (I even selected examples that both have Tim recognizing he wronged a girl!)

So if he’s generally self-aware, but doesn’t see anything wrong with his own behavior in the specific situation where he’s cheating on his girl then chewing her out? I explain it with the above double-standard. He internalized a mindset that keeps him from realizing how hypocrite he’s being in this situation. Also he doesn’t confront Ari immediately, he had time to think about it, it wasn’t a spur of the moment thing. That should’ve been enough to allow him to step back and evaluate himself but he just. Didn’t.

Bonus: Jack has been hinted to be sexist, and contrary to Tim it’s safe to assume that was totally intentional.

[Batman (1940) #441 || Robin (1993) #122]

Only two occurrences in decades of canon arguably don’t make for solid basis but they still allow me to build a coherence since our parents do influence us without us realizing. And given how much Tim loved his dad (he said himself how much he got from Jack), it sure isn’t an element that could plead against him being sexist.

There’s a bunch of other sequences that I low key read as sexist, but that I’m more mitigated about or in which I gave Tim a pass for various reasons so I didn’t include them here.

All in all when I take a solid look at Tim’s global behavior, I see sexism. While it may not be a “solid canon fact” since it surely wasn’t intentional on the writers’ part, I really don’t think it’s an unreasonable thing to infer from his very canon behavior. And tbh writer intent doesn’t excuse much. Factually speaking that portrayal has been there since Tim’s early days,he’s been consistently dismissive & disrespectful of his female peers and/or of their wishes and agency. It’s part of him & his history.

It’s not incoherent with his character either– Tim has always been intended to represent a normal boy/teen (dude was legit marketed around the fact that he’s relatable). It’s not baffling or coming out of nowhere that a random teen just so happened to have internalized sexism. It’s pretty damn common, even. It’s not like Tim being sexist was a brutal turnaround that contradicted what makes the core of his character to the point of making him unrecognizable (*cough* Talia’s current characterization *cough*).

Hope this explains that.

Thanks for the asks!

#tim drake #dc comics #stephanie brown #batfam #batfamily #meta #red robin #timothy drake #tam fox #asks #zae chatters #my stuff

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tyrantisterror · 7 years ago

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Anecdotes from Neosaur Park: Regina’s Family

Another one of these? Another one of these. I guess it’s now a thing since I named it. It’s significantly longer than the last one, so I’m putting a cut here to save people’s dashboards.

I said Tyrannosaurus wasn’t the most dangerous animal in the park. That doesn’t mean she never caused trouble.

Back when this whole thing started out - when it was just an experiment, before we made it a zoo - we bent over backwards trying to account for every possible problem we might face. And yes, it was because of that damn movie. So many people thought this was doomed to fail from the outset, all because some hundred year old piece of media made such a large and lasting impression on the populace.

The One Specimen rule was particularly well enforced. Despite all the strides paleontology has made, we still can’t learn most of a creature’s behaviors and biological needs until after they’re created. To keep things from getting out of hand, we would only clone one specimen of a given species, spend at least five years to study its biology, and then and ONLY then would we think about creating more. We thought we were being smart, and in some ways we were - there were some early hiccups in the project that definitely would have been worse if we had made more clones at the time. On the other hand, there were some problems we faced later that could have been avoided if we had thought of these animals as social creatures from the outset.

Of course, we couldn’t have known this at the time. We were working with what science could tell us. The average dinosaur’s brain is more like a crocodile’s than a bird’s. Therefore it was a safe assumption that most dinosaurs would be fine as solitary animals - that whatever social instincts they had would be rudimentary, and that they could easily adjust to life without company. This felt like a particularly safe assumption in the case of the Tyrannosaurus.

I mean, what’s the pop culture image of the creature tell you? The Tyrant Lizard King. King. Tyrant. A king is the sole ruler of a land, A tyrant even moreso. We have always considered Tyrannosaurus to be a loner, a solitary hunter. I mean, the creature was so goddamned huge - it would take miles upon miles of territory to sustain a beast that size! Sure, there were herds of similarly sized Triceratopses - herds that numbered in the thousands, mind you - and hadrosaurs and other prey animals, but still, this is a seven ton carnivore we’re talking about!

Now, you have to understand that none of our creatures are 100% authentic. Dinosaurs lived in a vastly different environment than our current world, even in the wake of the 21st century’s climate change disaster. It was a lot hotter, and there was a lot more oxygen. Disease back then and disease today had millions of years worth of evolutionary differences. The technology that allowed us to recreate these animals is the same technology that allowed us to restore biodiversity during the climate change disaster - to properly bring these creatures back, we had to alter them in a few key ways so they could adapt to this climate. It’s why we call it Neosaur Park, rather than Dinosaur Park. They’re not quite the beasts their ancestors were.

But, as far as I’ve been told - I’m not a genetic engineer, mind you - we did not intentionally set out to modify their behaviors, and especially not their intelligence. All we changed was some of their biochemistry, adapting them to a cooler, less oxygen-rich earth. Maybe that had a ripple effect we haven’t realized yet - maybe their hormones are off, who knows. This is still a developing science - we’ve only been at it a few decades, there’s a lot of new ground still to break.

We didn’t choose Tyrannosaurus as our first specimen out of popularity, as some have claimed. We chose it because the DNA samples were plentiful. Tyrannosaurus has a remarkable presence in the fossil record, and as a result we have a wide variety of T.rex genes to choose from. Since our Neosaur would be genetically altered, we had to give it a new scientific name: Tyrannosaurus regina. And, being sentimental, that’s what we named the first successful hatchling: Regina.

Everyone was as nervous as they were excited when she was born. This was one of the most terrifying predators ever to walk the earth, a creature with enough bite force to rend steel, the end product of an evolutionary arms race that produced some of the most heavily armored herbivores of all time just to counter it. It was the villain of hundreds of stories, the ultimate predator.

And she was as timid as a creature could get.

Regina was a fretful baby. The smallest things could spook her - she once jumped a full foot into the air at the sound of a snapping twig. More than anything, though, she was afraid of being alone. While she had one preferred handler - the one whose face she saw first after hatching - she was fine so long as at least one of us was within sight at all times. If she lost sight of us, though, she’d begin calling out with this strange, gurgling, peeping sound. You couldn’t leave her for even a few seconds without her panicking, and for the first few years we literally had her under a twenty four hour watch.

Eventually she grew out of that, exploring her paddock as a gangly adolescent. But she didn’t become as independent as we expected. Again, we were thinking this would be like a crocodile - that once she started out on her own, she’d lose the bond she had with her “parents” and begin treating us more coldly, if not outright viewing us as prey. Instead, she would routinely interact with us - greeting us with a hissing bellow, following us around for a bit, even leading keepers to her food trough and, upon seeing us stand there looking at it, taking a few slow, deliberate bites as if to show us that the meat was edible. It had us all puzzled - this wasn’t the Tyrant Lizard we were expecting.

It was when she hit her late teens that the puzzle became a problem. Tyrannosaurs take roughly twenty years to reach their full size, but like a lot of birds and reptiles, they’re sexually mature a bit earlier than that. At sixteen, Regina began to do something new. She’d walk around the edges of her paddock, sniff the air, look around, and then release this horrible bellow - some deep, booming hiss from the bottom of her gut. It was so loud and such a low pitch that it actually made the leaves of the trees shake. And she would do it for hours, traveling round and round the perimeter of her paddock while making this bone rattling noise. We had been open to the public for about four years at this point, and Regina was already a bit of a celebrity - everyone wanted to see the Tyrannosaurus, even if she was far from the hyper-vicious predator they expected.

This behavior went on for three months, and then she went back to normal. Till the next year, when she came back with a vengeance. The searching was more frantic. Regina was too big to run at this point - when she was younger and smaller, her legs were proportionally longer, and she could get one hell of a sprint. At seventeen she was far bulkier, and the best she could do was a sort of power walk. If that gives you a sort of comic mental image, well, you’re about on the mark - a frantic Tyrannosaurus power-walking as fast as she can does look pretty silly, at least until she heads for the paddock gate.

We weren’t dumb. Every inch of her paddock’s perimeter was surrounded by insurmountable natural barriers - steep pits filled with sharp rocks that stretched down eighty feet deep and were sixty feet wide. Most of the entrances to the paddock that crossed these pits were human sized. There was only one gate she could fit through, and that was only by necessity - there had been occasions where we needed to transport her to a sterile environment for medical assistance. This gate was thick, heavy steel, and a guard was always posted to it. By this point, we had doubted we needed one there - in seventeen years, Regina had never once tried to escape. As far as we could tell, she liked it here.

This would be the exception. Now a five ton carnivore, Regina trotted up the gate and released that bone-chilling howl. Her mammoth head peer over the walls. Her nostrils flared as she smelled the air. She released the bellow again, then watched. The gate guard was spooked, but this had happened the year before, too. Eventually Regina would move on to another part of the fence.

But she didn’t. She looked at the gate, snorted, stepped back, and rammed it with her head. The big carnivore reeled back, howled for a bit in pain, and then looked at her handiwork. The thick, heavy steel had dented. She snorted and rammed it again. The guard started radioing for help, but he was too late. With a third strike the gate gave way, and Regina was loose in the park.

The crowd panicked as they saw her stalking freely among them. Many thought that the inevitable had come to pass - that our experiment had finally gotten out of hand, and our man-made monsters were finally biting the hand that resurrected them. Most news outlets certainly painted this as such, and the bad publicity alone almost shut us down.

But, as I told you, Regina wasn’t a man-eater. She really wasn’t much of a predator at all. Whatever chase instinct she might have had was thoroughly smothered by her pampered upbringing. Regina ignored the patrons running from her, ignored the paddocks containing other prehistoric fauna - many of whom were her ancestor’s natural prey items, I might add - and instead kept issuing that deep, unsettling bellow while slowly wandering the park grounds.

Though the death toll was nonexistent and the property damage minimal, we still had a hell of a time figuring out how to get her back. A couple of solutions were offered - she was still traumatized from her brush with the struthiomimids a couple years back, so we could always try to scare her off by playing a recording of their shrieks. That seemed unnecessarily cruel, though. Tranquilizing her was on the table, but at her current size that could take a long while, especially given how thick her skin was getting.

One person saved the day: Regina’s preferred handler. Even after all these years, there was still a bond between those two. In a ballsy move, she called out to the tyrannosaur and slowly led her back to the paddock. All in all, it was the best possible end we could hope for, given this was one of our nightmare scenarios.

We eventually realized that Regina’s bellow was a mating call, and that her panic had stemmed from the fact that there were no other Tyrannosaurs in the area, and hadn’t been since, well, since long before she was born. We assumed she would be fine with that, but apparently not.

Luckily, we had long since prepared genomes for the next few Tyrannosaurs - again, we had an abundant supply to choose from, and the, well, let’s say “quirky” nature of Regina made our genetic engineers decide the try different profiles. We still thought she might be “off” - an anomaly, far too friendly to be the real thing, perhaps even a little “slow.” At the time we also thought that twenty years was the maximum Tyrannosaurus lifespan, so it was likely we would have to replace her soon anyway. Two different gene profiles were selected, and the next generation was born a bit earlier than planned.

We waited a few weeks before introducing the babies to Regina. Again, we didn’t know much about how Tyrannosaurs interact with their young. It was assumed that, like their close relatives, they would take care of their offspring, but these young Tyrannosaurs weren’t ACTUALLY hers. For all we knew, she might try to eat them. To be safe, we took them in a jeep, along with a good handful of keepers armed with tranq rifles.

Regina came to us within seconds. I think she could smell them before she could see them, as the big gal immediately headed for the jeep. She didn’t bully her way through, though, stopping about a yard off to give a loud bellow. When we felt confident the Tyrannosaur wasn’t going to get uncharacteristically violent, her preferred handler made the official introduction by carrying the male hatchling out of the jeep. Regina’s eyes went wide, and soon the baby made the same gurgling, peeping noise that she had made seventeen years ago.

The bond was immediate, and it was all we could have hoped for. Regina doted on the hatchlings, nuzzling them with her snout and watching over their every move. When they cried out for food, she led them to her trough. And when we tried to take them back, she followed us, soon developing the desperate panic we had seen before. We ended up leaving the hatchlings with her, and they’ve been with her since.

By my count, the young ones should be about thirteen now. Regina’s ten years older than we thought she’d live, and doesn’t show signs of slowing down - every year she puts on a few more pounds and grows another inch or so in length and height, and we’re beginning to think that Tyrannosaur lifespans may be akin to their crocodillian relatives. As for whether her behavior is natural or a result of her strange upbringing, well, we can’t quite say. The young tyrannosaurs both have their own personalities in contrast with their adoptive mother. The male, who we ended up calling Machiavelli, is a bit of a shit starter, to be truthful. He likes to start fights with his sister, though they’ve never gotten very serious - play fighting, as far as we can tell. He also chases the zookeepers from time to time, though he’s never actually tried to catch one of us, and Regina generally gives him a gruff talking to for it. The female is a bit colder - she doesn’t antagonize, but she can get oddly territorial, and is prone to sullen moods where she strikes off on her own, only to rejoin the other two a few hours later.

Both of the young ones seem a great deal bolder than their mother - perhaps because they grew up knowing the giants they would one day be, rather than thinking that a bunch of hairless apes were their parents. They’re still pretty easy to manage, but who knows. Maybe a few generations down the line we’ll actually get that Tyrant Lizard we’re all expecting. For now, though, we’re content with Regina and her kids.

#Anecdotes from Neosaur Park

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lizziesparkle · 7 years ago

Text

Sharp Objects

Episodes: Vanish, Dirt, Fix, Ripe

Content below may be triggering for some, please read with discretion.

Examining tiny hairs became my daily hobby. I would always attempt to remove the tiny white bulb from each eyebrow or eyelash I pulled.

I had two groups of friends in middle school, one set who did nothing but make fun of me and really appealed to my critic voice, and the other group who were kind and loving and adored me. I am sure you can guess which group I hung out with more often. Christ, you’d think I would have learned by now. These girls would write notes to me in class threatening to kill my cat, they would go into gruesome detail about how they would do it and where they would bury him. My boy was only about a year old and he was my world, this ‘friend’ befriended me because I was the new kid at this school and had a photo of my cat in the front pocket of my binder. She used the very thing I loved so much to hurt me. This would grow to be a frequent occurrence with all the toxic individuals who have entered my life. The picking began that year, while taking our end of grade tests, the note passing session fell around the same time as well. I hate seeming like I was an easy target and like a pitiful little baby, I had no problem sticking up for myself and becoming defensive, but it is as if they and everyone else knew I would take their insults and words to heart and lash out at myself in the process, it is as if no one took me seriously. My vulnerability has always been used against me though it is my favorite attribute that I embody. So, following the threatening cat letter, I told my Mom and she in turn told my teacher, though I told her not to. The girls were obviously scolded and were told to apologize to me and they did and I forgave them and all was dandy! Me teacher took a liking to me after that happened, she stopped me in the hallway and said to me one afternoon “You know that saying, sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me? Well, words are worse.” I have never forgotten that, and thinking back on that now, I would much rather someone shatter my skull than harm my heart with words; the most powerful weapon of all.

My palm is still pulsating from my grip on my favorite pair of scissors. I used to use them to cut out photos of the cast of LOST and carefully pin them on my wall, they are children’s scissors, a rather hideous blue color, I once was detained at the Colorado airport for having them in my backpack. These scissors have traveled with me for well over a decade now, always handy, for whatever need may arise.

Is there anything more vulnerable and heartbreaking than hearing an adult refer to their Mom as ‘Mama’? It is the southern staple, it is what I call my own Mama, a spark of my inner child latching on to this tiny, yet, oh so powerful word.

Everything is a sharp object, a person who self harms spends time scanning rooms. When you vow to not keep the ‘normal’ tools in your home, you sometimes have to get creative when you are desperate. Using the end of a tube of lotion, safety pins, knives, caps from various household items (toothpaste, prescription bottles, etc), the blades of your blender screaming your name, end of a lightbulb, end of an iPhone charger, etc. Anything can work as long as you press hard enough. The thoughts and perceptions are the ammunition; the cutting itself is the therapy.

I chipped my front tooth on a glass bottle a few months ago, it is sharp and jagged, but barely noticeable. As an anxious habit, I tend to rub my thumb nail against the sharp part of the tooth and drag my thumb up and down repeatedly throughout the day, my cuticles are worn and bruised, my nail has white lines, jagged and uneven all over. I wish I picked up skills as quickly as I pick up gross habits. I always must be doing something, whether it is biting my nails, digging my car key into my stomach while socializing, cutting words like ‘fat’ and ‘never’ on the inside of my thighs, purging until my throat is stinging and raw, picking and picking, punishing me for being me.

I am always particularly drawn to destructive characters, not their behaviors or habits, but their strength. It takes a brave person to keep living when everything inside of them is frothing with hate. The damage is outside of ourselves, though we take it out on ourselves, no matter the issue, no matter the severity, we take it out on ourselves. Amy Adams perfectly conveys what it is like to have destructive thoughts and painful memories rumbling inside of your skull at all times, instead of taking it out on other people, which tends to be the more common practice, she takes it out on herself. Why is it that I can care for such characters so deeply but cannot care about myself? I think it is because my issues are weak comparatively, that is what the message on the jumbotron flashing across my insides reads.

I recently turned in my apartment key to my former leasing agent, my first thought when I left the building was about that key; a sense of mourning trailing behind me. It is dull and smells of nickel, but I have always preferred it due to its specific ridges. I trace my finger across the grooves, it is ritualistic in nature, that’s always how it begins, I feel the object, allow guilt over past issues/what people think of me take hold of me, and carve. It is an instant euphoria, it’s hard to describe it, it feels like my guilt or my self-loathing is silenced for the night. My thoughts quiet, bleeding through, I always promise this will be the last time, only issue is my guilt and self-loathing are like rabbits; rapidly procreating.

Camille hides her indulgences like a child, her stunted adolescence is showcased through the candy bars and tiny alcohol bottles she continues to sneak into her Mother’s home. Addicts and individuals who partake in harmful activities tend to minimize everything and/or make excuses for themselves. Camille buys small bottles of vodka instead of a full handle. Camille softens experiences, her rape, cutting, alcoholism, she is never the victim, ever, she thinks she deserves all of this. Placing the sewing needles against the pad of a finger, no blood, no incision, just a press. It isn’t real if the dose of the destruction is untraceable.

Camille is so real, so dark, familiar. Unlovable. The only way to stop ones destructive habit(s) is to graduate to a new one. For Camille, that is alcohol. There is almost a self destructive meter that each person has. For me, alcoholism and sex addiction are the 10s, I made a promise to myself years ago that I will never get there, ever. I tend to teeter on the line at a 5/6. 1-Pulling (trichotillomania) 2- weak cuts, no depth 3-anorexia 4-heavier cutting 5-bulimia 6-bulimia and cutting. I know this makes no sense and seems appalling, but these are examples of my own personal excuses. “Well, ill never make it to a ten, well I never use razors, well ill never be a sex addict because no one will have sex with me, etc.” I am trying my hardest to level down, the only issue is there is so much darkness I have yet to punish myself for, so many memories living at the forefront, things I will never forget. Our ability to remember everything is our everlasting curse, no prince will ever break it, in a way, our worst memories are what keep our destruction alive. A buffet for the critic living inside of us.

Adora’s words slither. Whispers coated with poison, suffocating all those around her, yet her love and approval feel like antidotes. Camille will never fully heal.

Amma wraps her lollipop around Camille’s waves in her hair, the ultimate childish act. Teens are just so freaking scary, that scene is just deeply troubling and it is tough to see a grown woman sucked into a gaslighting reality. Its all about power dynamics in that toxic town. Camille seems fearful, her tone shifts to defensive, but it never works, not even on her sister who is more than a decade younger than her, people can just sense that she is an adult child. The empath. The watcher. The ultimate reactor.

Camille is timid, but she asserts such dominance when her secret is threatened to be exposed.

There is an acid stain on my porcelain tub, it sits two inches from the drain and features a light orange tint, I remember that specific night that stain was born. Its the spot I always aim for when purging; a home, a landing strip for my innards, you’re not alone here; no one is alone here. I shave sitting down in the shower because I am a weak individual who just prefers to sit or lay at all times, I notice the stain, I stick only one finger in my throat to gag, but stop myself from taking it further than that, it isn’t good, but I have to do something. Usually I will stare in the general direction of the stain and blindly shave while staring at it, my eyes shift to the drain and memories shoot out and I wish to turn the small top off of the drain and cut myself again, I ignore that and continue to shave, if only I had shorter legs.

I bet you’re sensitive, writers are sensitive. You can make people understand.

Camille is a person of senses, she is so easily triggered by her environment. She feeds off of energies; clocking everyone.

There is a moment in Vanish where Camille is driving in Wind Gap, she sees one of the town’s many murals and says quietly, but with a shake of comfort, “Hi Betty.” She later greets the mural outside of the tire store and says with a sarcastic (she finds the funny and its one of so many things I so deeply love about her, her wit is incredibly strong) tone, “What do ya know, Joe?” I have this ritual to ease my anxiety that I have been doing since I was a teenager, whenever I am feeling overwhelmed or like I wish to purge or cut, I say hello to every object in the room I am in. Hello sink, hello rug, hello shampoo, hello conditioner. I have never really given much thought to this little coping mechanism of mine, but Camille saying hello to these little pieces of her town, it made me feel less like a freak.

The yellow innards of the lemons printed on my sheets stared back at me. A perfect set of sheets for the summer, lemons have always made me happy, I tend to give fruits and other inanimate objects personalities, and lemons are just so very kind and nurturing. Mother fruit. As a child, I would constantly take the lemons from my parent’s waters at restaurants and suck on them until my tongue was numb. The blood is traceable, not much, a familiar yet distant sight to behold. The warmth of the blood slowly dripping down my inner thigh landing on one of the many lemons printed on my sheets; silencing its kindness.

There is always a sting of pain hidden beneath the shadow of empathy in the eyes of the damaged. Weighted looks, like magnets, that draw you in.

In the words of the masterful Gillian Flynn,

Camille is a ballerina with a steel spine.

#Sharp Objects #Camille Preaker #Personal Essay #Amy Adams #Gillian Flynn

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