#it's important to note that not all their experiences with foster families have been terrible; they've had good people who genuinely

[byanyan]

ㅤon byan's past experiences with family & the foster care systemㅤ—ㅤas byan's modern verse has effectively become their main verse, at least for the time being, it seems about time to expand a bit on their backstory. in this case, on one of the main sources of their trauma, distrust, & inability to let themself get close to people: their unfortunate history with family.

ㅤbyan doesn't know their birth mother's name (aside from her surname, of course, which they share) and, frankly, they don't care to know. all they've ever known about her is that she put them up for adoption the moment they were born. they've never met her, never spoken to her, and haven't seen her since they were born; why should they want to know anything about someone who never wanted them in the first place?

ㅤthey were actually adopted quite quickly as a baby by a korean couple who were unable to have children of their own, and they were raised by these two for their first few years. however, when the couple was unexpectedly able to have a child of their own, byan fell to the backburner until the couple ultimately decided they couldn't handle two children. thus, byan ended up in a group home for children and was put into the foster care system. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤthis would be the first major influence (of many) in the way byan has come to view families. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤbyan doesn't remember the names of these parents. having spent such significant developmental years with them, they only remember the two as "엄마 / mom" & "아빠 / dad" — a fact they've come to hate. it's painful, after all, to only be able to remember people who so easily abandoned you as mom & dad.

ㅤthe first family who fostered them after this, unfortunately, ended up just not being a good fit. byan was only with them for about six months.

ㅤanother couple with several other foster & adopted children took them in when they were about 4. never feeling like they got enough attention with so many siblings though, byan began to act out. eventually, they would become too much of a handful with all the other kids and would end up back in the system.

ㅤby the time they entered elementary school, byan only continued to act out. they were disruptive, caused all assortment of trouble in school and among other kids, which would have them in and out of many foster homes during this time. they were always deemed too difficult to be properly accepted into any family, and their behaviour would only continue to get worse because of it.

ㅤthe first time they ran away from a foster home, they were 8. it was their first experience in an abusive home; the father would regularly beat them for doing or wearing anything he deemed to be "for girls." byan would try everything from hiding what they were doing/wearing/etc. to fighting back. things only got worse with time and, eventually, they couldn't handle it any longer. for lack of any other option, they ran away from home. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤduring this time, they lived on the street, finding themself shelter wherever they could and relying on theft, lies, begging, and the occasional trash rummaging in order to feed themself. after spending a few nights in a homeless shelter several weeks later, they were brought to the attention of a child welfare agency and put back into a group home and, of course, back into the foster care system.

ㅤafter this experience, they would run away from many more homes, though not always because of any abuse. the reasons would vary and, while they were sometimes serious enough to warrant running away, most of the time they weren't. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤthis is about the point where it really started to sink in just how unimportant and unwanted they were to the world around them. from here, byan would more or less stop trying to fit in with families who fostered them, deciding it to be pointless, as it wouldn't last.

ㅤat 14 they were kicked out of a home for the first time. byan introduced their foster brother to the world drugs, which was not something the parents were about to tolerate. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤthey ended up on the street for a while again here, though they did sneak back into the family's home to collect as many of their own belongings as they could carry (as well as a couple hundred bucks from the spot they knew the parents stashed away spare cash). ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤthis was not the last time byan would get into trouble with foster families over drugs, nor the last time they were removed from a home because of it. in some instances, things got violent and, in a few other cases, the families would even call the police on them.

ㅤby the time they're in their teen years, byan has a lengthy record racked up, from problems at school to problems caused with previous foster families, along with trouble with the law and less than positive psych evaluations. naturally, they've found fewer and fewer families willing to foster them over the years as the list of issues has grown and, when a family does take them in, it rarely lasts more than a couple months — often due to byan's own actions.

some other, less specific tidbits:

ㅤthere have been more than just one family who wouldn't acknowledge or accept their gender identity (and sexuality, for that matter). several of these homes were very forceful in their insistence that byan is a boy and should look and act like it. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤthat said, they have also had plenty of homes that were very accepting and supportive of them and their identity.

ㅤthey have had a few foster parents who have tried to give them an english name. much as byan hates the name yeong-hwan, they still prefer it to any of the bs these parents tried to stick them with. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ»ㅤsimilarly to above though, they have also had families who have tried learning to speak korean and/or learning to cook korean meals in an effort to make them feel more at home.

ㅤbyan has had several physical altercations with foster families — most of the time with foster siblings, but they've gotten violent with a few of their foster parents as well. many of these they caused themself, but several instances have merely been them responding & simply defending themself.

[lightaflametoburnmethrough]

A Study of YunaAki Analysis #3 - Healing & Choice

Akiho and Kaito.

I’ve talked about their characters separately in these two analysis posts and now I think it’s time I did one focusing on their relationship as well.

And frankly, you’d have to be very shallow-minded and stupid to not acknowledge that their story IS all about acceptance and consent.

(also, please note the ENG version of Clear Card has a lot of translation errors. Read the JPN version or meimi-haneoka’s summaries of the chapters for the correct narrative)

Acceptance especially because it reinforces the authors’ message on love: it’s not about WHAT a person is but WHO they are to you personally that matters the most.

Let’s start with a quick review.

Akiho and Kaito both had terrible childhoods.

Akiho was harshly criticized from an early age for not having any magic, which greatly damaged her self-esteem and left it in an almost crippling state. Then she was forced, without her consent or even knowledge, to go through a ritual that would turn her into something non-human for the sake of her clan’s greed.

Kaito was abandoned as a child and taken in by the shady Magic Association so they could exploit his impressive powers. They had no interest in raising him properly or helping him foster his own will, only calling on him when they needed someone to do their dirty work (ex. ordering him to take up rewind magic, which is known to shorten the caster’s life force). As a result, for the longest time, he only ever knew how to be someone else’s tool.

No family to protect them. No friends to talk to or play with. No one.

It is no surprise that they’d grow up struggling with depression when their very surroundings existed to traumatize them further into the submission of cruel and amoral people monsters.

It is also no surprise that when the opportunity came for them to escape that misery, they’re doing everything they can in their own respective ways to be free of the Squids + Association for good.

As someone who’s been through child abuse and is fighting against mental illness on a regular basis, I cannot even begin to explain how much I connect with these two. How much YunaAki’s journey means so much to me personally.

It has gotten to the point that I can only view them as the greatest concern of Clear Card.

Because I know for certain that nothing bad will happen to Sakura and her friends. The kind of story that CCS is and the genre it falls under will not permit anything but a safe and happy (and fair) ending for its heroine and all those acquainted with her. And CLAMP themselves reiterated several times that “Sakura will be alright.”

So there is really nothing for me to worry about there. Sakura has plot armor. She’s going to be perfectly fine and I’m glad for that because that means I can fully invest all my attention in the ones I relate to the most.

Yes, I do see myself in Akiho and Kaito.

Not to the same extent, obviously, since they’ve lived way more horrific lives that I was very fortunate to avoid.

But still, I can understand where their pain is coming from based on my own experiences growing up.

That’s probably why during their first scene together, when Akiho put herself down as a “bother” out of habit and Kaito immediately stepped in to reassure her “you have never once been a bother to me”, I automatically knew without a doubt there was nothing remotely toxic about their relationship.

Because if he were taking advantage of her, if he did harbor ill intentions, there could’ve been other ways for him to tie her to him. With guilt or psychological manipulation or whatever. However, his words held no deception and clearly showed only a need to make sure Akiho was okay first. All the weight of what’s important was transferred to Akiho...leaving none for himself.

With Kaito, there’s always an emphasis on Akiho’s well-being before anything. He’s not always 100% good at handling that (because he’s human and therefore, flawed and prone to making mistakes like the rest of us) but it’s very obvious he always wants to do what’s in Akiho’s best interests.

Furthermore, the fact that Akiho isn’t afraid of him, is comfortable with him in her presence, speaks volumes of how positive an influence Kaito has been in her efforts to move past the ordeal that was her early childhood.

Because please remember, when Akiho was still living under her clan, all she was ever told (by her own kin) was that she was “useless”.

They didn’t have a single kind word to say to her. They constantly scorned her and left her alone with only books for company.

So whenever someone approached her, she’d be overtaken by fear. Fear that she’ll disappoint again. Fear that she’ll cause a burden just by existing as “useless”. Fear of being hated.

Do you have any idea how cruel it is to instill those thoughts into a little girl at an age when she’s just beginning to develop her sense of self?

How messed up does one have to be to ever think it’s okay to treat a child like this? To deny them the love they deserve and punish them for things they have absolutely no control over?

This isn’t some bullshit method to “build character”. Degrading someone, bullying someone repeatedly for whatever reason will never be anything but harmful and there can be absolutely no argument that the victim is always the one who’s going to be hurt the most.

This is exactly why Kaito taking Akiho away and refusing to return her to the custody of the Squids and the Association was the best decision he ever made.

It was the first step towards freeing Akiho (and him) from her abusers, from the ones determined to chain them down so hard that they’d never dream of defying them.

Over the years they traveled together, Akiho and Kaito changed. They learned for the first time what it felt like to not suffocate under someone else’s control and judgement. They began to truly live and grow as their own persons because they were in the company of the right people.

And that was each other.

Everything that we’ve seen about their journey up to Tomoeda, everything we’ve heard Akiho or Kaito or Momo share about their time together before reaching Japan supports that.

First of all, Kaito made the conscious choice to go with Akiho because he did not want her to stay among people who wanted nothing more than to destroy her for their own gains.

He knows better than anyone what kind of environment it is to live among power-hungry magicians. Even at such a young age, he was perfectly aware that he was only in the Association because his powers were wanted, not because he was.

That’s so fucking depressing. For Kaito, who was still just a little boy back then, to become so disillusioned with the world that he lost hope that anyone would care enough about him for him and not his magic. It got to the point where he couldn’t bother to care about himself anymore, only eating the minimum to get by and letting the Association use him as they pleased until his life finally expired.

If he turned out like that, that what would become of the girl who had no powers at all? How much worse would it be for her?

So much worse.

Because even Kaito couldn’t have predicted that the magicians would jump on his comment about her being “like a blank book” as a reason to turn her into a guinea pig. He said those words hoping they would realize since she’s of no use to them, they can let her go live a normal life...which was something he couldn’t have.

He wanted Akiho out of the magic world and tried to do that even before they met.

Despite having little frame of reference for human kindness, Kaito still possessed a lot more of it than all the members of the Squids and Association combined.

Akiho was still a stranger to him then, their only connection being that Kaito spoke with her mother, Lilie, a couple of times. He didn’t know Akiho yet but he didn’t want this poor, orphaned, innocent little child to suffer.

So you can imagine the guilt that wrecked him when he later found out the ritual, the experiment to alter Akiho’s body into a storage item for all the world’s magic, was a success.

Kaito was the most powerful magician in the Association. There’s nothing, no magic he couldn’t master. Yet the one thing he wanted to do (i.e. free Akiho), he failed because he underestimated how twisted these magicians could be.

Therefore, when the chance presented itself on who would travel with Akiho around the world...he took it. He volunteered to go and never looked back once he and Akiho set off on their journey.

For Akiho’s sake, he was never going to let her return to the place where there was nothing for her but despair to begin with.

Then during the years they spent together, he made another conscious decision.

To be the exact opposite of how her clan treated her. Where the Squids neglected and always harshly reprimanded Akiho, Kaito chose to be kind and gentle and understanding.

He talked and listened to her when nobody else did.

He learned to cook, to perform domestic chores, to do anything that would make Akiho’s life a little more comfortable and happier than it was before she left her clan.

He asked for her preferences, offered her options and most importantly, never demanded anything from her. Because 1) he was in no position to due to the pretext of his “job” as her caretaker/attendant and 2) his primary goal seemed to be creating an environment where Akiho would learn that it was normal to choose for herself and want to be happy.

Because the Squids were never going to give her any of that. They want Akiho’s soul to be erased in order for the artifact to be completed. As Kaito said in chapter 35, it would be easier for them to control something that had no will.

An instrument is meant to be used as such. It’s a tool. A tool doesn’t have a personality or feelings. It cannot resist orders.

That was what life was like for Kaito when he was still employed in the Association. They preferred a Kaito who didn’t care, who didn’t question things and just did as he was told. They did not teach him how to think for himself so they could continue to manipulate him into using his powers for their ambitions.

That is a violation of consent, especially so because Kaito was still a child when it happened. Being so young and so emotionally deprived, he did not have the capacity to fully comprehend the extent of something so important...and the magicians took advantage of that.

And Kaito likely became more aware of how wrong his situation was after he came to know Akiho. Akiho, who was now going through the same thing he did with the added dread of literally losing everything that defines her as Akiho forever.

That’s why he’s so desperate. He’s doing everything he can to make sure that won’t happen. He doesn’t want Akiho to end up worse than he was. A doll with no mind of its own for other people to abuse over and over and over.

It is through these actions of his - of being caring and kind towards Akiho, of reassuring her through her self-deprecating episodes and encouraging her to not be afraid to choose - that allowed her real self - a warm, bright, energetic and compassionate young girl - to finally come out from hiding.

She gradually began to trust him, to be more open with him, to smile for him and express gratitude and concern for him...and through interacting with her, he came to know his own heart. He became aware of his own humanity along with the feeling of what it’s like to love someone and be loved in return.

What they severely lacked from the adults who were supposed to act as their “legal guardians”, they found in each other.

That’s where healing starts.

By being around those who lift you up, not pull you down.

What Akiho got out of this relationship was a person who truly cherished her for her and not what she did or did not have. Kaito is her first friend, her first confidant, her first sense of it meant to have a family. It was because of Kaito that she could finally believe she wasn’t alone in the world. That there was someone out there who could accept her for who she was, not what she was.

What Kaito got out of this relationship was a person who treated him like a real person and not a convenient errand boy. Akiho inspired him to care, bringing out the gentle sides to him that he didn’t know he had because the environment he was “raised” in stunted his ability to empathize. He began to do stuff he normally wouldn’t do because they were a “hassle”. He found far more meaning and purpose with her (even in the most mundane things like brewing tea) than he ever did with the Association. He didn’t need to be powerful or possess magic to have worth. He just needed to form a true connection with the right person and through that, he would no longer be lost on what to do with himself.

So it is not at all unnatural for them to come to love each other beyond measure. To even fall in love with one another because nobody Akiho or Kaito knew before they met went as far as they did for each other. Because nobody YunaAki knew before each other could really comprehend the hell they went through. At least, not better than they themselves can.

Not even Momo or Lilie or even Sakura, the closest people to YunaAki there are.

Sure, Momo has her own history and share of tragedies and possesses a lot of wisdom, making her more than qualified to be the parental figure YunaAki direly need. But her nature as a supernatural, ageless being is the degree of difference that sets her apart from her charges.

Momo is a witness to their journey, their ever protective guardian but she is not the one for either Akiho or Kaito and she knows this. Which is why she always pushes YunaAki to become even closer because if there’s anyone who can help them fight their demons the best, it’s each other.

Momo watched these two grow up in front of her own eyes so nobody knows better than she does that there isn’t anyone else that’s as suitable for Akiho as Kaito is and vice versa.

Also, as their responsible chaperone, Momo wouldn’t have let Kaito near Akiho if he were truly a danger to her, much less agree to contract with him in the first place. The fact that Momo still remains on Kaito’s side as of right now in the story (ch 61) is the most solid proof that Kaito isn’t scheming to hurt Akiho.

Then Lilie. Lilie was the first person to ever approach and treat Kaito like a human being. She didn’t seek him out for his powers but rather, appealed to him like a motherly/auntie figure would to a kid by offering him snacks and spending time to talk with him.

Her genial effort to guide Kaito onto the path he’ll eventually take left a strong impression on him, yes...but it was never meant to be more than that.

Lilie is not the one either and she also knew this.

Because she saw the future in her dreams, already knew that Kaito and Akiho would meet and paved the way for that so that Kaito would take the initiative to go to her daughter on his own accord. Because Lilie already had her own beloved, knew what it was like to have that one special person to love above all others, and wanted Kaito to be able to find his as well because doing so would save him.

But also because despite them both being very powerful magicians, they led very different lives. Whereas Lilie was actually valued among the Squids and enjoyed a certain amount of freedom and grew up with a healthier mindset because of it, Kaito was blatantly used as a magical resource by the Association with no regards to his emotional needs as a child, resulting in him having the lowest opinion of himself.

Just like Akiho, her own daughter, would as well.

Knowing these two needed someone, and not just anyone but someone who could truly understand their personal plights and know how to support them, Lilie made the decision to say these words to Kaito so that they would act as a beacon in his mind towards his future:

The “like/love” that belongs only to you is surely waiting for you out there, waiting for you to realize (them)

“You will come to know love. And you’ll know it is love because there’s nothing else in the world that can make you feel that way”

It’s Akiho. Because Akiho is the one who moved Kaito to make the very first decision for himself in his life. She’s the only one who could and can drive him into action, to make him feel anger and sadness and want to fight this hard for something.

Everything Kaito does, it is for Akiho’s sake. To change the impending fate of her losing her soul. To give her a world where she no longer has to cry.

Lilie saw this in her dreams and pushed Kaito towards it so the future where YunaAki save each other could be fulfilled.

Finally, Sakura. Sakura is the personification of CCS’s main message (that unconditional love should not discriminate) as well as the ally YunaAki need right now.

She is a person who will prove to YunaAki that she is worthy of their trust after so many betrayals they went through. She won’t judge them or turn them away but instead choose to help them because that’s the right thing to do. Because warmth, hope and compassion are the cruxes of her character.

She will definitely not stand for YunaAki getting less than a happy ending after everything they’ve had to endure.

However, Sakura is not the one either.

Because there's a limit to how much she can comprehend about either Akiho or Kaito’s pain. Even with the synchro “assisting” her somewhat in empathizing with Akiho through dreams, those are still not Sakura’s feelings, memories and experiences. They are Akiho’s and cannot be transferred to anyone else.

Akiho and Sakura are very distinct from each other, individual of each other because of that. Therefore, the depths Sakura can reach can only go this far.

Adding onto it, the rest of the original CCS cast come from very privileged homes where love, support and protection were always available to them. They were never lacking in what mattered most.

So it would be very difficult for them to try and navigate through a situation as horrible, heartbreaking and complicated as YunaAki’s. Considering the majority of them are still children themselves with barely any experience into how the real world works (and most of them can’t be told the secrets of magic anyway) while the Clow faction is more inclined to protect Sakura than anything, it’s hard to picture any of them having a genuine interest in wanting to truly know the newcomers of this arc.

There aren’t enough significant bridges established between YunaAkiMomo and the members of Sakura’s group for that to be portrayed believably.

Don’t get me wrong, they’d still show sympathy because they’re good people, after all. Any decent person would when they hear about the atrocities of abuse or the serious trauma caused by mental illness.

But the way this story is structured so centrically around its main heroine, I doubt anyone except Sakura can manage to close the distance with YunaAki. And even then, because of the reasons above (and how much YunaAki will actually let her in into that part of their lives), she can only do so much.

Which is fine. It’s not something to fault Sakura or the other characters for. The important thing is that when someone is in trouble, another person steps up to help those in need. And that’s Sakura’s role in YunaAki’s story. That’s more than good enough from her.

However, for Akiho and Kaito to be able to truly overcome the obstacle that is their pasts, I believe it is the most crucial that they have at least that one special person who they know can accept them wholly and whom they can be totally free in front of.

Free to share their thoughts and feelings without that reluctance of possibly being a burden to the other.

Free to talk, cry, rage and completely let go about everything that upset them and still be there to hold each other through it all, tirelessly reassuring “you’re going to be okay, I’m here for you”.

Akiho and Kaito deserve someone who will know the right words to say and the right things to do in order to comfort them, to help them heal. They deserve that one person who they’ll look to when they feel insecure and their anxiety will vanish because “you know me, you get me without trying, you understand even without me having to explain.”

Ch 61 pretty much confirms that’s the case as far as Akiho’s side goes. A developing case, at least.

Sakura had offered to listen to whatever Akiho wished to share on Akiho’s terms (ch 56) and for that, Akiho was grateful.

However, the fact that Akiho hasn’t done so yet shows that she still needs time before confiding in her friend about her family affairs which are tied directly to the most vulnerable parts of herself.

On the other hand, with Kaito in ch 61, Akiho really didn’t worry at all about taking up his time. When she asked if they could talk a little, she already knew he’d be willing and ready to listen, just as he always is (for her).

Because he’s known her for far longer than Sakura does (years as opposed to Sakura’s few months) and most importantly, Akiho knows that Kaito is aware of her coming from a clan of magicians. This is not information outsiders (which Sakura falls under) are privy to so for her to speak openly about the Squids in front of him...it not only proves he’s not an “uninvolved person” but also shows how much she trusts him to discuss something so personal.

And when he defended Akiho against her reiterating the clan’s disappointment (”in the end, she (I) can’t do anything”), she was only lightly surprised before she smiled and shook her head at his apology for acting out of line.

As if saying, “It’s okay, I know you meant well. I know you got mad for my sake.”

Akiho doesn’t have it in herself yet to be angry at her clan...so Kaito gets angry for her instead.

With that, she knows that she’s cared for. With that, she knows he feels and cares for her very much.

And that’s all Akiho ever wanted, really. A person to be on her side.

Because she has that, because she has Kaito, Akiho has already become stronger than her scars of the past. Sure, the pain will still be there because it always hurts to not be wanted by your own family...but that no longer matters as much as the present she has now. The present where she has friends who swore to do anything to help her and not let her feel lonely. The present where she can smile happily from the bottom of her heart.

The present Akiho that became possible because Kaito was there to understand her, defend her and fight for her.

Nobody ever did that for Akiho and nobody after Kaito will ever go to the lengths he did for her either. Because nobody else loves Akiho as much as he does.

And now Akiho wants to do the same for him. Because she cares greatly for him, too. Because he’s her most important person and she truly loves him and doesn’t want to lose him.

Even though Akiho isn’t aware of Kaito’s powers or the secrets he’s been keeping behind her back at the moment, that doesn’t mean she’s going to abandon him when she learns about them. Especially when he was the first person to ever accept everything about her and do everything within his ability to make her happy.

It would be extremely OOC of Akiho to act that way and go against everything the authors have built and established about these characters.

That a relationship goes both ways, not one.

That a relationship is not easy, perfect or automatic. It requires time and patience and learning to get through the hurdles and barriers between two people.

For Kaito, that is more terrifying than dying because all his life, he’s only ever known of being used by others, including himself in his goal to save Akiho. So it makes sense why he harbors distrust against the world. Why it’s so difficult for him to believe he can be anything good for Akiho.

He can give and give and give...but he refuses to receive help from her in return.

He thinks so little of his own welfare, is so full of self-loathing and on top of that, carries the immense guilt of putting Akiho in this situation when in reality, he was only doing what he could to prevent it. And there was no guarantee that she would’ve come out safe even if he didn’t make that “blank book” comment because the Squids, being the psychopaths they are, surely would have thought up other cruel uses for her even if they didn’t turn her into an artifact.

Yet he still sees it as his responsibility to correct it. To do whatever he can to eradicate the danger planted inside her by the magicians. He’s willing to give his very life to apologize to Akiho because he doesn’t think he can make it up to her any other way.

However, anyone can die. It’s not difficult to die.

It’s living that is so much harder.

But at least, by properly facing your feelings, you have the chance to release all that inner turmoil and anguish trapped inside. After that, the “load” on your chest doesn’t feel as excruciating and you can slowly work on getting better.

......in theory, it’s easy to say. In actuality, it’s not easy to do.

Because to understand yourself...requires having to relive all your horrible experiences, nightmares and regrets before coming to terms with them.

When I began my sessions with my therapist, it took me several weeks of crying out all the emotions I’ve bottled up for over 20 years before my mental state went back to being relatively stable. Though it was liberating, at the same time it was very difficult to work up the courage just to talk about it. It felt so awful to feel all that pent up hurt just hit me at max capacity.

So imagine how much worse and scarier it is for Kaito, who is shouldering so many issues right now and not once has given himself a relief from them. His severe low self-esteem that left him convinced he’ll always be alone, that no one would miss him if he’s gone. The painful solitude he still remembers before Akiho came and changed all that. The massive guilt that crushes him every day over how he put his most important person in the situation she’s in now and how that same guilt is what’s keeping him from reaching out to comfort her because he doesn’t think he has the right to be close to her.

The distress over how he and Akiho are running out of time (his health rapidly deteriorating because of using too much rewind and the artifact starting to shut out Akiho’s consciousness), the pressure of Sakura’s group closing in on him now that Sakura is aware he’s a magician, the fear that he won’t be able to protect Akiho from the European magicians...and the persistent determination to save Akiho nonetheless in spite of all these odds against him.

Not to mention, another danger of someone’s magic possibly going berserk during this whole mess. Because remember, in CCS, people’s powers are connected to their emotions. So if he loses control over his magic because of that, there’s no telling what harm may befall him or Akiho or anyone involved.

Subconsciously, Kaito might have realized this...which may be one of the reasons he’s turning a blind eye to his feelings. To maintain control of the situation.

He cannot risk getting distracted, not even for a moment. He can’t allow himself to let down his guard at anytime because doing so might just mean losing everything he’s worked so hard to achieve up till now.

And that’s a common defense mechanism, really. We all hide behind a smile, sweep what’s bothering us underneath the rug, in order to try and function normally throughout the day.

Nobody wants to suddenly find themselves in a meltdown. Nobody wants to feel so vulnerable, lost and utterly helpless when they can no longer deal with the weight of their problems and crash from that.

Not to mention, it’s so obvious that Kaito’s the type that loathes to be a burden to his loved ones and you can see it in the way he always deflects Akiho whenever she shows concern for his health and begs him to rest.

He’s always like “Please don’t worry about me, think of yourself first.”

Again, he doesn’t think he deserves to receive Akiho’s kindness so he often tries to steer the conversation away from him and make her the subject again.

But this also stems from his struggle to really trust anyone, to be willing to rely on others for support and not do everything alone.

Not only is Kaito adamant that Akiho shouldn’t be plagued with his problems, he also doesn’t believe she can bear the weight of them. In other words, the truth about himself.

That he’s a magician and a powerful one at that. That he used to be associated with the people who put her through that ritual. That his “blank book” remark is the cause for why she’s in this predicament even though that was never his intention.

That he planned all this. Taking her from Europe all the way to Japan, letting her meet Sakura, synchronize with Sakura, all for the sake of his wish (to save her).

How would Akiho react to that? Would she detest him? Hate him for what he’s done, what he is? A calculating magician who’s been manipulating the events around her newfound best friend?

It’s such a terrifying idea, the thought of the person you love most hating you.

And it gets even scarier because what if the shock of the reveal breaks her heart and belief in people forever? Then Akiho will never be happy.

If there’s a risk of that, then Kaito will surely think it’s not worth it to tell her. Moreover, it’s far too dangerous with the current circumstances. The seals he placed on the artifact (ch 35) have already been broken (ch 49) just by Akiho’s sadness breaking to the surface in response to Sakura’s words about wanting her friend to be happy.

The progression of the artifact is triggered by Akiho’s emotions and if she feels anything of intense negativity, then she (her soul) can be instantly swallowed up and he’ll lose Akiho.

It’s not worth it. If not knowing keeps her safe, Akiho never has to learn the truth about him. As long as she can smile and have a warm future, he’d be glad to erase himself from her life. He’d be happy to die for her (the reply to her “the moon is beautiful”/“I love you”).

He believes he isn’t of any value to anyone anyway so what loss will there be if he’s forgotten by the end of all this?

But Kaito underestimates just how strong Akiho really is, especially when it comes to her feelings towards him.

There is no way her love is that weak that she’d be okay about letting him leave her like that. She’s constantly on his case, telling him he should rest because she can see through his perfect mask how fatigued he is. She’s always worrying about him and becomes so sad when he won’t let her do even that.

Akiho’s willing to go through any lengths to protect Kaito as well, just like he’s been doing for her this entire time.

And she’s demonstrated that when it comes to perseverance and courage, she is the stronger of the two of them.

Akiho isn’t afraid of getting hurt and it shows because every time Kaito brushes her off, she comes back and tackles harder. She’s essentially telling him “rely on me, you don’t have to be afraid, I’m here for you”. She can handle any turbulence that comes their way because she knows her love for Kaito is greater than any hardship she’ll face. She knows it’ll be alright as long as she has that.

So even if she does get shocked by the truth, it’s only going to be a minor bump in the road compared to fearful prospect of losing her most beloved person forever.

The truth is, Akiho has always been fighting since the beginning even before she met Kaito. And she’s only gotten more resilient with time thanks to Kaito removing her from her poisonous clan and bringing her into a safe space so that her true self can properly flourish as it’s meant to.

Akiho resisted giving into bitter hatred when she had every right to lash out against the world for what it’s done to her. She retained her kindness and compassion and chose to focus on what’s most important to her: the bonds with the people she cares about.

So the issue of whether she can accept the truth about Kaito or not is pretty much nonexistent. Because she loves him for who he is, not what he is.

The person she fell in love with is the Kaito who she’s known for years, has been by her side for years. The Kaito who took care of her, supported her and gave her everything she’s ever wanted and needed.

So what if he’s a magician? That’s just one part of him. It doesn’t wholly define him and it isn’t a problem for her to unconditionally love that aspect of him as well.

Because please, please, please understand, what hurt Akiho the most wasn’t magic itself but people that did. It was the heartless, selfish community (with their fucking goddamn ableism mentality) she was born into that ostracized her and made her feel like shit. Not magic.

Akiho may be young but she’s not dumb. She knows how to tell good people and bad people apart. Therefore, there certainly can be good magicians that stand apart from bad magicians as well.

Sakura’s definitely a good magician and would never make Akiho cry or cause her to feel less for not having any powers. And Akiho adores Sakura and cherishes their friendship so much that something as trivial as magic can’t stand in the way of how dearly think think of one another.

So if Akiho is determined to hold onto this bond she has with Sakura, how the hell can anyone fathom she wouldn’t want to do the same for her relationship with Kaito, who isn’t just the most important person in her life but also the very first good person she’s ever known? The first good magician who’s also currently fighting tooth and nail against death to free her from that society that still wants to hollow her out into a husk?

That’s absurd.

Again, Kaito means so much more to Akiho than what he is. He’s more than just her caretaker, more than just a magician. He’s an extremely kind and devoted young man who had a very unfortunate upbringing and is tormented by the past.

He’s just like her.

That’s why, even before she learns the truth about him, Akiho already on some level knows him. She’s had years to observe him and his mannerisms and behavior.

And because they’re so similar, she can definitely understand him and relate to his pain better than anyone else can. It’s not the magic she sees, it’s the person he is.

Akiho is more than strong enough to accept Kaito and support him through his troubles. Nobody’s forcing her to and she’s not doing it out of obligation. She chooses Kaito because she wants to of her own will.

Honestly, this kind of connection is incredibly rare (even among non-romantic love as well). For someone who can see everything you are, the good and the less than ideal parts, and say “I will accept all of you, I am not afraid to love you.”

It does not mean omitting their faults. Rather, it’s the strength to acknowledge, embrace and forgive the fact that nothing is perfect. It’s to not let your perspective be ruled over by prejudice. To not let one small, superficial aspect stain the beauty of the entire picture.

So what if Akiho can’t do magic? That’s not going to make Kaito love her any less because he’s already seen, already knows, that just having magic can never compare to a fraction of the sum of all the great qualities Akiho does possess. And he knows this better than anyone because he’s been with her longer than anyone else has to witness them!

So what if Kaito is a magician? That doesn’t erase all his efforts to help her escape her toxic family and his desire to keep her safe from harm. It doesn’t negate his pure feelings of wanting Akiho to receive the happiness she truly deserves. That is what’s matters. That is what’s always going to mean more to her than anything.

YunaAki are never going to forget those things, the most important things, about each other. Nothing can make them, it’s impossible.

The way their characters are written, separate and around each other.

The way their relationship is portrayed with layers upon layers of complexity, transcending things like age or gender or sexuality.

The reason why CLAMP suddenly brought the phrase “ 私だけの人” (“The only person for me”) into the story right when we’re reaching the start of the climax of CC. Right when we’re finally getting the overdue extended exposition into Akiho and Kaito’s pasts.

The incredible stroke of luck that out of probably a billion chances, YunaAki were able to find the one special person meant solely for them and them alone.

It is to illustrate the authors’ intentions regarding these two persons. That no one else can love them better, can love them the best, than they do each other.

YunaAki aren’t only compatible because they’ve got similar backgrounds (and therefore, also have similar understandings) but also because they have a special sensitivity to one another that nobody else does.

Even though their real personalities are quite different (Akiho being more optimistic and outgoing with Kaito being more moody and cynical), when they’re around each other, they show sides of themselves that no other person has that ability to bring out.

Kaito’s eyes don’t soften so gently for anyone else but Akiho. He’s not attentive towards anyone else like he is towards Akiho.

When she’s hurting, he so evidently aches for her as well and you can see it in all the expressions he makes whenever he’s around her.

And when Akiho is super happy or wishes to discuss something she feels very deeply for, it’s always about Kaito.

Nobody else can get her to smile, so warmly and brimming with quiet but potent affection, like Kaito can.

“The one who brings out the best in me is you. The one who makes me feel the most beautiful and precious is you. The one who will give me the greatest despair is you if I ever lose you.”

The only one.

The one they can’t afford to spare, not even for the world. The most important one.

Which is why they’re fighting. At the end of the day, it’s not about who wins but what one must do in order to not lose.

Putting everything on the line for the sake of love. As proof of one’s love.

I believe this is the narrative Ohkawa-sensei is going for here. And you know it is because this theme is universal in CLAMP’s works and has actually been stated by Ohkawa herself (check the wiki, I believe she said it a press conference).

Well okay, we get all that about acceptance and what’s important but where does choice fit into this spiel then, hm?

Because yes, even if Kaito is intent on saving Akiho and hiding things from her for her own safety (reminder that the artifact can activate at any moment), Akiho will not approve of him trying to force-give her happiness this way, especially at the expense of his own life.

...among several other problems since we still don’t know the exact details of his plan. The only things about it that has been confirmed by Kaito’s own words are:

1) He needs Sakura to manifest a specific card in order to activate Momo’s book, the pivotal key to accomplishing his wish.

2) Sakura’s other Clear Cards (and possibly the artifact inside Akiho as well) can act as some sort of “fuel” to power Momo’s book or the taboo of the book or whatever.

In short, some sort of spell is needed to save Akiho. So what is the purpose of this spell? What does it do?

There are a bunch of theories going around including Kaito possibly wanting Akiho and Sakura to switch lives (though ch 61 seems to be disproving that atm) or trying to the reverse the state of Akiho’s body to the moment before she underwent the ritual. Maybe he might even want to create a copy of Sakura’s “perfect” life (thereby messing up the time-space continuum?) ...but make it so it’s a world without magic and insert Akiho in it?

We don’t know and none of us can claim confirmation about anything until CLAMP finally reveals Kaito’s intentions in future chapters.

What we do know is that Kaito sees absolutely no hope of him coming out of this alive.

The repeated use of rewind magic causes him severe seizures and now he’s passing out from the exertion of it as well. Kaito barely has enough left in him to even stand and yet, despite Momo warning him against it multiple times, he refuses to listen.

Because saving Akiho means so much more than preserving his own life, which in his mind is just a small price to pay.

Because he believes Akiho must choose happiness for herself. Whatever that means, whatever he envisions for her as “happiness”, he needs her to choose that.

That’s probably what he’s been conditioning her to do from the beginning when they started traveling together. That’s why he’s always offering her options , to get her into the habit of choosing what she prefers. To think about what she wants.

“Please don’t worry about me (I am of no value), think about yourself.”

Choose a normal life where she can have a loving family and good friends and a future.

Choose a life where there is no magic which consequently means a world without him since the only thing he sees himself useful for is his magic.

Kaito seems convinced that magic is the source of Akiho’s pain...so without it, without him who unknowingly cursed her into her fate, she can finally be free.

But that’s just what Kaito believes in that stubborn head of his, drowning in all his internalized self-hatred and guilt. Again, right now, he has no idea just how much Akiho loves him and how much it will hurt her if they’re torn apart.

As long as he remains unaware of her true feelings, he will continue to go down the wrong path. He will continue to avoid facing his heart and his death will cause Akiho an even greater grief than any actual happiness he wishes for her.

He will not realize that his pursuit for an ideal world for Akiho is what effectively deprives her of her choice on what happiness means to her.

And that’s to be with Kaito, her most beloved person, always.

If Kaito dies, they lose that forever. They cannot go back on it.

That’s why it is extremely crucial that Akiho confess to him again, this time with the more direct “I love you”.

Only by getting across to Kaito that she loves him dearly, that she sees him as special and the one person she doesn’t want to live without, can it put a halt to this downward spiral of self-destruction.

Moreover, by choosing Kaito over a “perfect world”, Akiho will teach him the real meaning of the word “choice”.

That she chooses Kaito for him and not his magic. That even with magic, she can accept all of him because there isn’t a single thing about him that she doesn’t love.

And just as he chose of his own will to save her and give her freedom, Akiho will choose him to give him his - to free him from the belief that he’s destined to be alone.

By knowing he is not alone, that he is cared for and loved by someone, Kaito can begin to properly heal. He can finally learn to trust someone, to believe that he too has a right to live, to have a place to belong to in this world (with Akiho, by Akiho’s side).

He will no longer have any reason to die. He will not wish to leave Akiho because doing so will only bring her endless despair and if there’s anything we can be sure of, Kaito will not accept any outcome where Akiho is less than happy.

To conclude this overly long ramble (yea, it’s ramble-analysis at this point...rambalysis?), everybody chooses their own happiness. It’s not something another person can decide for them.

Choice also extends to those we love and how we love them.

By choosing to love the correct way...that is, by supporting each other, caring for one another, accepting one another for who they are and not what they are...can we hope to find, to become, the true love we’re looking for.

True love brings out the best in people, allows the real strengths of their characters to bloom and thrive as they’re meant to.

True love heals, helps us become stronger and better than our old selves so that we don’t lose to our weaknesses of the past.

True love will never intentionally hurt you and even if there is pain, it’s the proof that you’re alive. Alive to feel, alive to hope and to fight. To choose your own happiness.

That is the meaning I’ve found in YunaAki.

[sabineelectricheart]

Counting Fingers

Summary: Dimitri cannot fathom how the tiny fingers of his son’s will ever be able to hold a sword, so he swears himself a vow. One he keeps over the years.

Rating: K - Intended for general audience 5 years and older. Content should be free of any coarse language, violence, and adult themes.

Words: 2500

Notes: I am obsessed with Three Houses. I mean, I am an obsessive person, so nothing new there, but still, if I keep up like that, I’ll be booted from college.

As the sun breaks the dark skies of a harsh winter night, Dimitri could not quite believe how small the fingers and toes of new-born babies actually were.

Ten little fingers. Ten tiny toes.

He looks at his own hands, large and calloused from the years of training, hunting and war. He has trouble believing that his hand has ever been so small, he could not fathom how such fragile limbs would ever be able to hold onto swords and lances.

The king of Faerghus has become also a father, and such a title was bringing such anxiety he had not remember feeling for many moons. He had no-one to confide or help him dealing with such strange territory, as both him and his wife were orphans, his friends are yet to take the plunge towards family life and the nobility was strife with tales of terrible parenting with horrible consequences.

He would pace around the room to try to relieve his mind of such a burdensome fixation, but it has been a long night and he could not support the weight of his own large body. Besides, he had done it for hours to no avail.

It was while the blond man stared emptily at the warm crib in front of him that something magical came to pass. The tiny green-haired, blue-eyed baby stared dead ahead into his father’s eyes and reached to him. As a whole hand of tiny fingers wrapped around one of hiss, Dimitri made a silent vow.

This vow he made as he glanced between his new-born son and his wife, sleeping peacefully after an intense delivery. This vow he made to remind himself of the importance of family.

The ten fingers and ten toes of his new-born son would never once experience the level of pain he had. His son would never go through the emotional torment of never knowing his parents. His son would never experience true loneliness.

While this boy cannot hold a sword in his feeble hands, be a day or the rest of eternity, his father will raise his own on his defence, and so the Goddess smite him if he ever goes back on his word.

Dimitri made the vow in utter silence, sealing it with a kiss to his son’s head. As if in response to the promise made, his son squeezes his father’s finger, gripping it with all the strength in one of his tiny hands.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All perfect, and all there.

*_*_*_*_*

It is a huff and a cry that follows that has Dimitri rushing from the stables into the large courtyard that separates the horses from the main halls of their home, which had a large tree where the children of the estate usually learn climbing, himself included when he was that age.

Despite knowing full well that such happenings were the facts of life and that it does not hurt that much to fall from one of those branches, the monarch’s heart stops at the sight of his son sprawled on the floor, fat tears running down his face more from shock than pain.

Those tragedies must only happen in Spring, when the Goddess cannot protect the lands of Fódlan, the blond is sure. He brushes his son down, checking for any major injuries as he does so.

The fatherly heart returns to a normal beating rhythm once he realises that Lambert is entirely uninjured, suffering shock more than anything.

“How many fingers, Lambert?” Dimitri asks, reaching out brush the tears away from his son’s chubby face.

“Ten.” The boy responded on a hiccup.

“How many toes?” The man asks once more.

“Ten.” Came the predicted response, now without being broken in the middle with the throat spasm.

Dimitri kisses his son’s verdant hair. “Ten fingers and ten toes. It all seems in perfect order to me. Do you feel any better?”

Lambert nods, wiping away the last of his tears and smiling shakily up at his father. Dimitri smiles back at his son, lifting him under the arms and settling him on his hip.

“I think we have had enough of the outside for now. We ought to catch something on this wind.” Dimitri comments softly. “Will you help me prepare the tea, Lambert? Your mother must be arriving soon, and I am sure she would appreciate having a hot beverage and a pastry to chase away the cold.”

It was difficult to raise a child when the love of his life spent six moons with them, three in Fhirdiad and three in Garreg Mach, and six moons away, caring for the Church and souls of their realm. However, Dimitri knows he prefers six moons to no moon at all, and the Archbishop had plenty of admirers who would be more than happy to have any moon they could get.

Lambert nods once more, tucking his small head into the crook of his father’s neck. The man chuckles softly, heading back inside and sneaking through the large corridors onwards to the Royal Apartments, where he settles his son on a chair by the table.

“What should we brew, Lambert?” The blond asks. “Chamomile or apple and cinnamon?”

“Chamomile!” His son shouts, a smile on his face as Dimitri prepares the flowers, boils the water and sets up the fancy porcelain cups in their due places.

When the Archbishop finally arrives from the long trip from the centre of the realm, pressing a lingering kiss to Dimitri’s cheek before dropping a kiss to Lambert’ head, the father was explaining to the child how good tea and good company fostered lasting relations.

“What’s happening here?” The religious woman asks, good-humoured.

“We’re having a tea party, Mama!”

She laughs. “I can see that. What are we having?”

“Chamomile tea and honey pastries.” Dimitri states.

“Naturally.” She counters, while picking up their son and setting him back on her lap, as she helps him with his cup and cutlery.

Dimitri watches you with a warm smile, thinking back to his younger years. He thinks back to the dark years when he did not know whether he would make it through the winter, never mind make it to having a family. To the times he was lost to his own nefarious thoughts.

The rich laughter of his son brings the king back from his memories, fetches him back from the precipice in which he found himself teetering. He lets himself have his small panic and he lets himself fall prey to the anxiety that has unfurled in his gut, but he only lets it keep hold of him for the amount of time it takes him to count the fingers and toes on his son.

Ten fingers, ten toes. Dimitri’s mind calms and his smile returns to his face.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All will be well.

*_*_*_*_*

Dimitri lurches upright. A hand is brought to his throat as he drags in air; his mind rattled and his body shaking.

It had felt so real. It had been real. He had experienced such nightmares before, during the five years that the Crest of Flames had been missing and presumed dead, but now, knowing he had much more to lose, it felt even more terrifying.

He glances over to the empty right side of his marital bed. The Wyvern Moon was high in the sky and the king had been forced to return to Fhirdiad, as to oversee the harvests and preparations for the harsh wintertime to come.

Alas, if reality does not provide, the man’s memories are ready to jump into action. If his wife were here with him, he would see a hand outstretched towards him even in sleep. His eyes run over the imaginary figure; watching it sleeping form rise and fall as breath leaves its metaphysical body.

Dimitri sighs, feeling the loneliness grip into his battered heart. The silver wedding encrusted band on his left hand signally a happy future from the nightmare he had found himself in, regardless of the hurdles that practical reality imposes upon the man.

The monarch presses a kiss to the most precious piece of jewellery in his possession, brushing the thick covers from his body before leaving the too large of a bed.

He shives against the cold air of the autumnal night; the landing freezing as Dimitri sits at the doorstep of his chambers, hanging his head in his hands.

When his former professor returned from her long slumber, she might have managed to silence the voices on his head, but they did not go away, merely transformed what once was a shout into a thin whisper. Yet, even that is hard to ignore on the long months he is alone.

As a result, Dimitri spends most nights having to repress the urge to stand guard by the front door, lance at the ready for whomever should come crashing through posing a threat to his wife and his son.

Lambert stands by his own nursery door; his stuffed animal hanging from his still too weak of a hand as Dimitri tries to settle his breathing and heartbeat.

“Daddy?” He asks, voice quiet yet ringing through the silent house.

“Lambert.” Dimitri says, a hand reaching for his son.

Lambert goes into his arms willingly, yawning tiredly as he settles his head against his father’s shoulder. Lambert does not say a lot, even this young he knows that his father struggles to sleep on some nights. The boy forgot how many times he had found the man asleep on some odd surface throughout the castle, as it happens more often than not. Fortunately for his father, a blanket is often thrown haphazardly over his body by one of the early-rising maids or guards.

“How many fingers?” Lambert asks, stumbling over the harder sounds in the words.

Dimitri swivels to face his son; the question being the last thing he expected. “Ten, Lambert.”

“How many toes?” Lambert follows, kicking his feet in the air for emphasis.

The weight on Dimitri’s chest feels lighter as he answers his son, “Ten, Lambert.”

Ten fingers, ten toes, Lambert reminds Dimitri, ten fingers, ten toes, and all will be well. As long as we have all ten fingers and all ten toes, we can do just about anything, even if it is defeating the terrors that haunt us at night.

*_*_*_*_*

The very same vow is made when Princess Arabella of Blayyid makes her grand entrance into the world on a sunny Lone Moon morning. Dimitri felt sure that he had the same awe-filled expression on his face from when he first held Lambert.

On the barren lands of Faerghus, every child is a blessing, but he is sure that his court celebrates more his daughter than they did his son. Her arrival, while hardly a surprise, given how hard and tirelessly they worked to conceive her, had been challenging, as it would appear that divine figures had difficulties in producing scions, and the distance was hardly any help.

The nerves do not rack Dimitri as much as they did before Lambert arrived, though, even if they still turn his stomach as he watches his beloved wife go through the same unpleasant experiences of motherhood, with cravings, pains and the horrible delivery.

The sacrifices would be worth it, they were sure. After the rough patch of pregnancy, parenthood would be a breeze. Or so they thought when they looked to Lambert as an example, proving that, so far, neither of them had failed that disastrously at parenting. The small boy turning into young child that knew his manners and was devoted to his family and nation.

It is Lambert who whispers the vow. He stands over the crib of his baby sister, eyes wide in awe at the small bundle of blankets. He turns to his father; catching his attention from whatever conversation he was having with you.

“Ten fingers and ten toes.” Lambert whispers, pointing to Arabella’s hands and feet.

“Ten fingers and ten toes.” Dimitri states, the vow unleashed to the world and sealed with the very same kiss he had placed upon Lambert’s head all those years ago.

*_*_*_*_*

It finally arrived. The Great Tree Moon was finally rising on the night sky, and with it came the much awaited day for all noble parents in the realm, and the monarchs were no exception.

Today was the day when a member of the Blaiddyd dynasty would be making their way towards the officers’ academy in Garreg Mach. The large and rather comfortable coach in front of the Royal Family was already completely loaded and ready for departure.

Lambert looks towards the carriage before fixing his tear-filled gaze on his father, who is barely keeping it together himself. The teen boy was the first of his three children to be going away to school. He knew he would be emotional, but he just did not prepare himself for the pit of dread eating its way through his stomach lining.

Dimitri reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair. His first born, his eldest, the one who made him a father, who had moulded him into the man he is today. The heir to the throne.

“Write to your mother and I when you get settled.” The man commanded.

Lambert nods.

“As soon as I get to my room.” He replies, voice quiet.

“Try to enjoy yourself, and do not be too concerned with being class leader on your first year.” The Archbishop advises. “Remember, there is time to sow and time to harvest, time for fun and time for seriousness, and both of us will be there with you when the Blue Sea Moon come.”

A weight is lifted off of Lambert’s heart. He does not want to admit it, but he is scared, he is feeling the weight of Fódlan on his young shoulders. He is more than happy to be able to count on his mother’s wise advice while in school, and the breathing space his father was letting him have.

Dimitri pulls Lambert into a hug; unable to let his son go without one more. As they part, Dimitri pats Lambert on the shoulder, nodding towards the open carriage door, silently letting him know that it is okay now. It is okay to let go and leave their home.

Lambert does so with a wobbling lip, trying his best to project strength to the person he most admires in the world.

“Fingers and toes.” Dimitri shouts, not caring about the odd looks from the servants and knights assembled in the hall. These were his final verbal words to his son until the Rite of Rebirth. He would make sure they were those that he vowed over his cradle when he was only a few hours old.

Lambert sticks his head out of the carriage window.

“Fingers and toes!” He cries, throwing the promise back to his loving father.

The boy would return safe and sound. All ten fingers and all ten toes.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

[piracytheorist]

4 different headcannons for Rogers

Bruh I realized it’s been so long since I headcanoned anything about any OUAT characters I’ve kinda forgot my own headcanons XD 

Headcanon A: realistic

He has a cat. It’s black and he calls her Enya. She has all the equipment to occupy her time while he’s at work, but when he comes back she’s full-on snuggly. Rogers being a neat freak, he waits until he’s wearing his indoor clothes (and not his pyjamas) to snuggle her and let her sit on his lap while he sits and either sketches or watches TV or something. Then he puts on his actual pyjamas, which he doesn’t allow any cat hair on, and goes to bed. Tilly loves her when she comes to live with him and he’s happy that they have some company with each other. They bring her with them to Storybrooke when they move in there.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

I’m wondering how much he cooks, because he has a heavy work and he lives alone, and those don’t usually allow time and energy for cooking. But still it’s in character for him to choose only healthy foods and stuff, and I think he’s not a big fan of pizza, though he doesn’t mind it. When he does eat pizza though, he only uses a fork. What is he, a barbarian, to eat it with his hands?

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

See, they kinda made the curse in season seven mirror the one in season one. However, Rogers had memories of wanting to go out on the sea as a kid, while in the first curse people didn’t actually have any memories of themselves as kids. So I believe Gothel purposefully put such old and sad memories into his mind because she’s Gothel and she’s awful and she likes to make Hook suffer. And not just by giving him memories of wanting to visit the sea and never doing it, but also by making him so terribly alone and weaving that into his wish to visit the sea, as in, he never went sailing because he didn’t have anyone to share this beautiful experience with. She took a pirate who swore opposal to any king and ruler and made him a law enforcer. She made him obsess over the woman who tricked him, cursed him and forced him away from his daughter. She took away the sea, his ideology, and most important of all, his daughter, carefully making every part of the curse into his personal hell. 

Not sure if I headcanoned correctly there so one of the things I wanted to include in the Rogers fic I abandoned is that he has memories of being an orphan and passed around from foster home to foster home. At some point he runs into one of his foster fathers, and while Rogers remembers him, the man doesn’t, and afterwards Rogers gets sad at the thought that he doesn’t have anyone to remember him.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

His friends aren’t written as complete and utter bastards and actually go see him at the hospital after 7x20. In the morning especially when he’s meant to be discharged, Henry goes and offers to drive him home. Rogers however is still upset at the fact that he can’t hold his daughter, and when he sees Henry come in, all smiling and glowing from his reunion with his family, he shouts at him and tells him to leave. Henry tries to calm him down, but Rogers just shoos him off. Henry leaves and Rogers is left alone, desperately thinking what an ass he was to Henry, who didn’t do anything wrong and only wanted to help. That would actually explain why he comes home in a fucking taxi and why no-one lifted a finger to drive him back home.

Ahhhh I had so many notes on Rogers and stuff but they were on my phone that was stolen last year and I lost all of them DX

Send me a character and I’ll share four headcanons!

[invisibleicewands]

In Prodigal Son, Michael Sheen plays Martin Whitly, a highly intelligent, charming and cultured medical practitioner. But he's also a serial killer, kept under close surveillance in a prison where he is visited by profiler Malcolm Bright (Tom Payne), who comes seeking insights into a copycat killer using Whitly's murderers as a template.

There's an unmistakable echo in all this of The Silence of the Lambs, and not only because Sheen is, like Anthony Hopkins, who played Hannibal Lecter in the 1991 film, so proudly Welsh.

"One of the useful things about this story is that it touches tropes and little motifs from other shows and stories in the genre," says Sheen, speaking via Zoom from his home in Port Talbot, Wales, where he is spending – and largely enjoying – lockdown with his partner and young child.

"Obviously, the relationship between Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) and Lecter is a reference point, and it means you can move quite quickly because the audience has a sort of shorthand with you. But there's a big difference in that Martin and Malcolm are father and son, so there's the family bond that takes it into a whole other area."

Originally planned as a 22-episode arc, season one of Prodigal Son is now, thanks to COVID-19, a 20-parter. But it doesn't finish two episodes shy of where it was meant to, an entirely fluky by-product of the fact Sheen is in hot demand on both sides of the Atlantic.

The 51-year-old star of such diverse offerings as The Queen, Frost/Nixon and The Damned United on the big screen and Masters of Sex and Good Omens on the small had another project booked in the UK, and needed to leave the Prodigal Son shoot early. "So, in order to accommodate that, the producers said, 'right, we'll skip over a couple of episodes [in the shooting schedule] and go straight to the finale so that once you film that, you can leave'," he explains.

The intention was to shoot the other episodes without him but, the week after he left, the industry began to shut down. "So then what they had to do was very cleverly film a few little bits so we could get to the finale," he says. "Those build-up episodes had to be abridged a bit, but the finale itself was shot as it was supposed to be."

Compared to so many other shows, they got off lightly. There are some series, Sheen notes, that were in their final seasons and simply had to stop short, presumably forever. "They just did not end," he says, "which is very unsatisfying for the people working on them, and for the audiences as well."

That thing he was meant to shoot in the UK? Well, that didn't happen either. Not that he was too stressed. Despite his seeming ubiquity, Sheen insists he is not at all hungry to work.

"People assume I like to be doing things. I don't. I hate being busy. I like to lie and watch TV all the time. It's just I don't get to do that," he says. "If left to my own devices I would do literally nothing, but I kind of guard against that by pushing myself to say yes to things."

Among the things he's agreed to do recently is Staged, a six-part series he made for the BBC with his Good Omens co-star David Tennant.

"David got in touch and said, 'Look, I've been approached about doing something like this and would you be up for it?' And essentially we both felt the same way, which was that if each of us wanted to do it, then the other would do it. Because we liked the idea of being able to do something together again. I think both of us were a little wary of how much time it would cut into our domestic lives. So we did the first episode just as an experiment, and to see whether we enjoyed it and whether it worked. And then, on the basis of that, we were like, 'yeah, sure, let's keep doing more'."

That fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants approach was possible because Staged is a low-production-value lockdown show made, he says, "using just a laptop and a phone". There's something liberating about that compared to the big machine that is a studio production but he's not convinced it's anything more than a novelty born of necessity.

"I think there's a limit to how much people can watch stuff that looks like this," he says. "There's a tolerance level for that kind of thing."

Prodigal Son, though, has clearly been made with the intention of a very long life. For a young actor just starting out, that's an enticing prospect. But for Sheen, a man who has never been more in demand, it was more important to make sure the role didn't become a millstone.

With the producers, he struck a deal that allowed him a fair degree of flexibility. "I had to guarantee a certain minimum number of episodes, but beyond that, I could be in and out of it as much as I want. But of course, once you start working on it, your natural actor's instinct is, 'I don't want to come in and out, I want to be in it as much as possible'."

Like many of Sheen's roles – especially in America – Martin is what you might call a big character.

"I'm always interested in characters that have a performative aspect to them, characters that are on the edge of what people might believe," he says. "The challenge of taking someone who is naturally larger than life, but to play that character in a way that feels very real and grounded at the same time – I find that quite exciting."

You can see that in Good Omens, in which his angel Aziraphale bumbles his way through the end times. And you can especially see it in The Good Fight, in which his lawyer Roland Blum is a man of voracious appetites and dubious morality.

"He's an absolutely despicable man, and yet there's something about him, he's so roguish and id-like that you can't help but be drawn to him," he says.

Martin Whitly is similar, "in that he's a monster, he's terrible, and yet it's a great time when you're with him.

"There's a sort of spontaneity to those characters, and an ability to pull the rug out from under the audience at any moment as well," he adds. "I find that really interesting."

[blackandblueandstars]

It's Okay Pt11

TRIGGER WARNING: Discusses mental, emotional, physical, sexual abuse. Especially sensitive for LGBT readers.

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Kamilah stood, trying not to take it personally that Amy didn't want to see her. She knew it was hard. She wanted to avoid it. And Kamilah made it hard to avoid. But, it still hurt, as much as she didn't want it to.

She grabbed the nurse and let her know she would be in Sam's room, if Amy asked for her. Then she walked down the hall.

She knocked on the door, entering.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," said Sam. "How's Amy?"

"She's good," Kamilah said with a smile. "Asking ahout you, actually."

"I'm glad," said Sam. "She kept me safe, made me feel safe in that terrible place. I'm glad she's safe now."

"Me too," said Kamilah. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," she replied. "A social worker came by, they aren't sending me back to my parents."

"How do you feel about that?" asked Kamilah.

"Relieved," said Sam. "They hurt me so much. But...also sad. Afraid. They hurt me, but at least I knew what to expect. And I still love them. Now...well, I don't know what's next for me. Foster care, I guess."

"I understand how that would be complicated," Kamilah responded. "It's okay to have conflicting emotions."

"Maybe I'll be lucky and end up with a family like you and Amy," said Sam. "I hope so, anyway." She looked at Kamilah, suddenly embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't mean...I didn't mean to be so forward, or make things awkward."

"You didn't," smiled Kamilah. "We're all good."

A nurse knocked on the door.

"I'll leave you to it," Kamilah said, returning to the hall. She pulled out her phone.

"Hi, Gloria," she said. "I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything," said Gloria.

"I'd like to get approved to adopt a child," she said. "I need you to start the process. Anything you can do to speed things up, please do. It's important."

"I never thought I would hear those words come out of your mouth again, Ms. Sayeed."

Kamilah laughed lightly. "Me either," she said honestly. "But I never thought I'd be standing where I am today. Not even last week. So...things change. And I guess sometimes good things can come out of bad situations. I mean, I hope so anyway. That depends on you."

"Of course, Ms. Sayeed. I'll take care of it."

"Thank you Gloria."

Kamilah returned to Amy's room, ready to sink to the floor again.

"Ma'am?" a nurse asked. She turned.

"Here is a chair for you," she said.

"Thank you," Kamilah said, touching her arm. "You're very kind."

She slid the chair against the wall, sitting down.

Her phone buzzed with a text. Adrian.

"Have you been home yet?" he asked.

"No."

It buzzed again, but she put it in her pocket. She didn't need a lecture from Adrian on how she needed to take care of herself. She needed to take care of Amy. But Amy wouldn't let her.

She sighed, feeling exhausted through and through.

She pulled her phone out again, searching for therapists that dealt with this type of trauma. Amy would needs someone to talk to, someone who could help her heal, and she wanted to give her the best. She deserved the best.

Kamilah didn't remember falling asleep, but she was jerked awake by shouting from Amy's room.

"NO!" shouted Amy. "NO, please no! Stop!"

Kamilah quickly ran into the room, surveying its contents. No one was there. She looked at Amy, asleep, tossing and turning. She walked over and touched her gently as nurses sped in behind her.

"It's a nightmare, darling," she cooed as she gently roused Amy from sleep. She looked at her, disoriented, eyes wide in fear.

"It's okay, Amy, you're okay. I'm here, you're safe, everything is okay."

Amy buried het face in Kamilah's side, and Kamilah stroked her back.

The nurses returned to their work as Kamilah soothed Amy.

"I'm so sorry," Amy sobbed into Kamilah's shirt as she tried to comfort her. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh," Kamilah said, "Baby it's okay. You're okay."

"They made me, Kami," she said. "I didn't want to. I told them I didn't want to. I didn't want to cheat on you. I didn't want it, I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey," Kamilah said, kneeling on the ground and pushing Amy's hair out of her face. "Baby, none of this is your fault. I'm not mad at you, I don't blame you, and you didn't cheat on me. You were assaulted. Don't you worry about us, we are so good, my firefly. I am here for you and I am not going anywhere. You just worry about getting better. And you're not alone. I'll help you. Lily will help you. Adrian and Jax will help you. We've got you, baby. I've got you, Amy."

Kamilah held Amy while she sobbed, until she fell asleep. She climbed into bed beside her and held her, gently.

"I've got you," she promised again.

When Adrian walked into Amy's room, he saw Kamilah laying with her, both of them fast asleep. He couldn't help but smile, seeing them both reunited. He left the bag on the table - some food, a change of clothes, her phone charger - and left Kamilah a note.

Then he walked out, texting Lily and Jax.

"Meet me at the office," he said.

The three vampires sat in the conference room.

"Amy seems to be doing a little better," he said. "So I want to focus on something else."

"What?" asked Jax, arms crossed in front of him.

"Destroying the organization that did this to her. But I'm not sure how."

"Murder them all?" asked Jax.

"As tempting as that is," said Adrian, "they're too large."

"We need to send them to jail," said Lily.

"How?" asked Jax.

"I have an idea," she said, eyes gleaming.

Part 11

Want a fan-fic written just for you? Check out my follower appreciation post.

Author's Note: I had the idea to write this after watching a segment about a conversion camp. This has been particularly hard for me to write, but it feels necessary to me to explore the horrors that people exactly like myself have experienced. I wanted to add some resources where people share real stories of their experiences and survivors can go to find help:

National Center for Lesbian Rights

Love is a Rainbow

Article from The Cut

Tag list: @h-doodles @scarlet-letter-a0114 @idkbutkamilah @lightning-fury @galaxyside-0 @blogsupitssam @ilovetaylor13m @la-guera-69 @adrianrainesworld @iam-the-fuckin-queen

[starshipsandsuperheroes]

1) i accidentally unfollowed you while trying to send this ask, thanks tumblr ui 2) regarding top dnd moments: have you had any moments where you suddenly realize something big about your own character? or like, a moment that sticks out as when you realized that the character had really come into their own and was something more than just you playing the role?

1.) that’s hysterical omg

2.) Yeah I actually do, weirdly enough?  (Also ty for indulging me on this alsdkjfasd ily)  I’ve actually got one who this happens to all the time - she really kinda lives like, independently of my immediate intent, and I feel like I’m constantly surprised by her.

For those that don’t know her, the character I’ve played the second longest is a rogue assassin named Amelia.  Her original name was Amelia Shepard, she started out neutral evil, and the only thing she really cared for was whatever it was gonna take to keep herself alive (yeah i went edgelord rogue it’s fine she’s working on it).  Currently, she goes by Amelia Foster (Foster being our party’s “family” name, which is of import in the world of the campaign), she’s a true neutral character, and while she still prioritizes her own life, she’s been known to take a few more risks for the party.

I remember sitting in Denny’s with my party a few months into playing her and the DM looking at me and saying the words “I don’t think Amelia is capable of love.”  At the time, I agreed with them, and as far as I could think ahead, that was gonna remain true.  She definitely got away from me though, and without me noticing, started taking steps closer and closer to true neutral.

There are two moments that stand out in particular on that path - the Tetanus Orb Incident, and the Karl Marx Incident.  It’s some of the most connected to a character I’ve ever felt while playing D&D, and I’ll detail them below a cut for anyone curious about what those were (to save dashboard space).

(also side note: it’s weird as shit in a very fun way to talk about my own pcs, because i feel like i usually end up doing so in a way where i frequently deflect to the rest of my party, so the last few days have been really interesting in reflecting on like, my own personal experiences dsjfalsdkfjas)

Curious about any of this?  Come ask me about it!

The Tetanus Orb Incident came at the end of a rather weird session.  We were playing in a room we’d never played in before, the majority of the party had been asked to leave the room for like a half hour and go sit out in the freezing cold hallway while the DM and one party member had a talk (in character about things we Couldn’t Know), and then we had come in and to make a very long story short gotten chased by a Rakshasa through a church while ZZ Top’s Sharp Dressed Man played for literally two and a half hours straight in the background.  For the most part, it was a really good time, it was just a lot of weird energy that ended up combining to, I think, set the tone in a very specific way.

We also had these things our boss had given us that, as far as we could tell, were little chalky orbs that could cause rapid onset tetanus.  Amelia was the most bound to our boss, and also deals primarily in poisons, so she ended up carrying them.  Generally the use seemed to be to put them in water and then cause rapid onset tetanus in everyone who drank of it.

There’s a scene that would pretty regularly play out.  Our boss was a terrible person, and hated us all, but for various reasons had it out in particular for Amelia.  We’d get back from a job, get a debrief, and the party would get into an argument with her.  She’d snipe at them, they’d snipe at her, this would go on and she would get more and more agitated, Amelia would say one thing in contribution, she’d set Amelia on fire (long story), the group would get her to let Amelia go, she’d drop it, and we’d go our separate ways until she singled people out to torment individually.  Sometimes she’d set other folks on fire to change things up, but it was a pretty cut and dry encounter we came to expect.  That scene started to play out when we got back from the Rakshasa chase - Elle (our boss) was already agitated from the incident at the church, so it didn’t take her too long to get worked up.

This time, though, she didn’t outright target Amelia.  It was sammygiddings’s Satomi that she turned on.  The room was shaped differently than we would normally have to play, and the physicality of the scene had increased a bit - people were standing, and our DM as Elle was walking between people.  They approached me in character and demanded one of the tetanus orbs.  It was technically hers, so I mimed fake obliging.  And then Elle told Satomi to open her mouth and moved to have her swallow it.

I was in motion literally before I realized what was happening.  By the time I focused again, I was standing too, my hand on my DM’s wrist, knocking it away from sammygiddings’s face.  At first I was embarrassed, because I hadn’t meant to get so into it that I actually, physically grabbed them to stop it, but the scene continued to play out without a word or anyone seeming weirded out.  Elle ripped her hand away, tossed me back the orb, called me names, and all the other fun stuff we were used to from that scenario played out accordingly (hope she’s rotting in hell, even though I know she’s not).

It wasn’t until later that I realized that Amelia had moved, not me, and for the first time ever had put her own neck on the line for someone else.

The Karl Marx Incident was the final domino in the line that started after the Tetanus Orb Incident and ended in... well, character development very few saw coming.  To make another very long story as short as possible, the campaign is an exercise in anti-capitalist theming, which is fucking delightful but also can get very dark, and one of the ways it got very dark was the sudden need to move around five million people out of one of the parts of the 50 million-person city when one of the powerful corporations tried to take over their part of the city via martial law.

Originally, the people in the area wanted to stay there and fight the corporation off, reclaiming the third level of the city as their own.  We went to find them to either see how we could help or talk them into something better.

It probably would have been a good idea to let wizardcowpoke’s Junie do all the talking , in hindsight.  The situation was far more of a setup for her to shine, and she was far more prepared for any sort of charisma skill check (especially at the time) as compared to my Bastard.  I found myself talking before I realized quite what I was doing, though - talking to the people to convince them their ideas of reclaiming the space were bullshit.  

The primary group affected were a union of what the city calls “divers” - the city tends to build on top of itself, and the divers were the ones that maintained the structural ruins that now acted as supports for the current “upper” city.  The group working to take over their level?  The corporation whose primary strength comes its monopoly on the train out to the desert.  Amelia, before I even realized what she was doing, began to rally the assembled group.  They were skilled, she reminded them, and they were survivors.  Fuck UMIC.  You’re stronger as a union than they could ever hope to be.  Go out to the desert, to the mountains.  Commandeer the train, start a new commune, and when you have the strength and resources to do so, build your own fucking railroad.  Take their greatest strength from them, but be patient about it.  You’ll wound them much deeper that way then trying to just kill every base level employee you come across.  With wizardcowpoke’s help, as well as the rest of the party, we managed to convince them to try it the long way.

We ran into other problems from this, including a false hydra later down the line.  But at the time?  The session finished, and the DM took my character sheet for a moment, erased something, wrote something new on it, and passed it back over to me.  My alignment had changed and I hadn’t realized it.

[ofisolaticn]

welcome to san francisco, HENRIK MIKAELSON. rumor has it they are a HUMAN (UNTAPPED WITCH), but only they could tell you the truth! when i close my eyes, i think of them and imagine BLEEDING HEARTS, ISOLATION & SPRING DAYS.

BACKSTORY.

it was 2012 when esther mikaelson resurrected herself, finn and kol and put them in new non-vampire vessels. funny thing, revival spells. they could work in so many ways, including bringing a 10 year old boy back from the grave. unlike his brothers, henrik came back in his original body due to the fact he was never a vampire. 

he was small, only ten years old. too small for the war esther had in her back pocket (the one to ‘convince’ klaus, rebekah and elijah to swap into mortal bodies and leave their immortal ones behind’). so esther stuck him with two witches who were loyal to ‘vincent’ and figured she would come back when she won. 

ha ha that didn’t happen

the witches, in fear of what a mikaelson could do, bound his magic. and, after a week or without hearing from esther, abandoned him. so henrik, ten years old and alone, was fairly stuck. that is, until social services came along and swiped him from the crappy place he was living. 

now henrik had a mixed bag of experiences in foster care. some were terrible, some were nightmareish, some were okay and some were kind of really nice. none lasted, however. he was too old, too marred and broken. no one wanted a kid who woke up screaming. he made do with what he could, tossed around the system and making friends where he could. 

so he grew up, aged out of the system. andddddd then he decided to become a social worker. henrik wanted to prevent all his poor and horrible experiences that went on. he wanted to do everything in his power to help the kids in his own situation.

he met landon kirby when he was only 18 and powerless to help him much. but he was kind to the young boy and gave him a teddy bear named yogi. 

APX SEASON 1.

so henrik didn’t mean to move to san francisco. he counted on only being there for a few weeks but then, well, things changed. he met a guy. a guy he really really liked. a guy worth staying for.

too bad his feelings weren’t totally in his control. unbeknownst to henrik, he was being compelled and used by a hybrid called daniel warren under the guise of levi stone. the perfect boyfriend, too good to be true. the hybrid who wanted vengeance upon the mikaelsons for all they did to him. 

now it’s important to note before this, henrik was a serial dater with a mix of fuckboy. he did one night stands, he did one week relationships (his longest relationship before levi? two weeks and three days) so the whole boyfriend thing was NEW to him. and henrik? he loved it. he loved the security, the love, the warmth. 

daniel didn’t just compel henrik to love him. he compelled him to FALL. and fall, henrik did. utterly and completely, with all his heart. daniel was astute in keeping the charade up. but it could only last for so long.

eventually, he reunited with finn. henrik hadn’t even known his siblings survived but it was a joy nonetheless. it was a fraught relationship that henrik was keen to expand. however, it was cut short upon finn’s daggering and henrik’s lack of ability to save his brother. (unknown to henrik, finn jumped into the body of a young man named arlo park).

six months he remained with ‘levi’, until henrik met who he thought was arlo park. but was instead his brother finn in another vessel. ‘arlo’ gave him vervain. now, typically daniel compelled henrik in small ways depending on his mood. it was a small slip, a small attempt at compulsion that led henrik into investigation. he had arlo wipe all the compulsion from his mind, and henrik was horrified to learn the truth of the one he thought of as levi. 

he confronted the man, with finn’s help, and made himself clear: he was SPARRING him, giving him mercy. but if daniel ever made a move against henrik or his family again, he wouldn’t waste a moment before telling the mikaelsons of daniel and making him public enemy number one. 

eventually, he reunited with landon (a happy surprise, quite honestly) which lead to him meeting his niece hope mikaelson. 

he landed a job at the salvatore boarding school for the young and gifted, as a counselor. it was different from the social worker job he was used to but henrik had the training and wanted to put it to use. he hopes to help whoever he can. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

old roommates - before moving to san francisco henrik def had some roomies and/or neighbors. he’s moved around a lot so they could be from anywhere.

old friends - they could have met randomly or known him when he was young, but henrik def has a long friend list. 

exes - as long of a friend list he has, he has a longer list of exes. henrik is shit at relationships and only managed one for six months due to compulsion. 

one night stands - so our boy is a bit of a whore prior to being bamboozled? he def could have slept with your muse. the only people this does not apply to are youngins because henrik would never sleep with anyone too young (and he still looks at young adults as youngins).

kids he helped - henrik has been working for a good long while and helped a ton of kids to his best effort. i would imagine he kept in contact to make sure all was alright with them. 

[katscratches]

Nice Girls Don’t, & Other Lies I Was Taught (part 1)

-- a comparison of sex education between generations --

Disclaimer:

I don't claim any sort of sociological or psychological background. My sole qualification for writing about the impact of a lack of sex education is, frankly, that I've had a lot of sex. This has turned into more of a memoir than anything, is certainly more opinion than fact, and draws heavily on my own personal experiences. Names will be changed as needed or requested for the sake of privacy.

Part 1: The Boring Yet Obligatory Introduction

Now that Pride month has drawn to a close – yes, I know it's been a week already, but it's me, and you might have expected I'd come sliding in just after the last-minute, clothes askew and hair all mussed – I have been thinking quite a lot about how attitudes have changed regarding sex, gender, sexuality, sex education (all the fun stuff!) since I was a kid.

See, I have kids of my own. Teenagers, really. Two of them are even technically adults! I know, I know – I can't believe it either.  And the things they've learned in Canadian public schools over the last decade or so is a far cry from what I supposedly learned in 1980's Catholic school. They've learned about the mechanics of sex, the fluidity of gender, sexually transmitted infections, safe sex, etc. It's an eye-opener, let me tell you. The stuff they're taught now could fill volumes!

The stuff I learned wouldn't even make a satisfactory introductory paragraph.

When I originally conceived this idea, I was thinking of some sort of brief essay. But as I began actually sketching out ideas and outlines, so many memories surfaced, most of which I'd completely forgotten. I really felt they were too important to the subject as a whole for me to discard them, and this little idea grew. And grew. And before I knew it, this was turning into some kind of half-assed memoir.

This was not my original intention.

However, how can I possibly explain differences between my kids' sex education and my lack thereof, without also explaining how those very differences directly impacted my whole life?

I'd like to give you a little bit of background about myself, so you have some idea of where I'm coming from. I hope that's not too boring. I'm sorry if it is; I'm truly not a terribly exciting person. But the way I was raised and the people who raised me – and how they were raised -- do actually have a great deal to do with my attitudes toward all things sexual.

I was born in Toronto, Canada, in the summer of 1970 to a pair of rampantly horny teenagers – Catholic mum, Protestant dad. Birth control was not considered, clearly. And abortions were certainly not readily available. What was available was adoption, and I was made a ward of the Catholic Children's Aid Society quicker than you could spit. For a brief time, I lived with a foster family who had wanted to adopt me themselves, but decided against it as they already had eight kids of their own. Yes, EIGHT. They must have been very loving people; that's all I can say. Really loving. Like... all the time.

When I was roughly 3 months old, I was adopted by an older couple – they were both 40 years of age at the time of my adoption – who already had one natural child of their own, aged 4. My new parents fought a lot with each other when I was young. Most of the time it was verbal abuse, although there was one memorable time where my dad had slapped my mum across the face because she'd bitten his arm. I don't know what precipitated that fight. It may have been finances, as it was right around the time my dad had been laid off from work due to an economic depression in the early-mid 1970s. But who knows? They argued over nearly everything. They'd even once had an argument over Jello-O, which resulted on my dad deciding to sleep on the couch for the next twenty years! (I wish I was exaggerating that.)

Needless to say, they did not share a bedroom.

My brother and I used to pray for them to divorce. Although we always ended up having to take those prayers to Confession, what we really wanted was some peace and quiet. We were too young to know what went on behind closed bedroom doors, but we had an idea that maybe most parents at least shared a bed. All we could figure was that if they couldn't get along well enough to share a room, maybe they shouldn't be together at all.

Believe me when I say there was nothing sexual going on in that house, and I was about as innocent as you could get.

There were two main reasons my parents never divorced. First and foremost, they were Catholic. Divorce would have been a sin. The other reason was that it really never would have occurred to my mother at that time to want something different. Here's your bed; lie in it.

The Seventies must have been an interesting time, I think, with all the strangely mixed attitudes toward sex. On one hand, people were still dealing with the sexual hang-ups of earlier eras, where sex was barely talked about inside the bedroom, much less outside of it. But on the other hand, suddenly sex was everywhere. Feminism was booming. Homosexuality was beginning to be decriminalized. The book markets were fairly bursting with all manner of sexually liberating books – Erica Jong's Fear of Flying and Dr Alex Comfort's The Joy of Sex, for instance. And while Playboy had been around since the early Fifties, suddenly there was Playgirl, and the much more explicit Hustler. All of this led to the 1970s being referred to as a decade of sexual revolution.

Sex was finally ceasing to be such a taboo.

Not in my house. I grew up blissfully unaware of anything to do with physical love. I was a mostly happy kid, though very shy, and very sheltered. And as the youngest child out of all my cousins, there was literally no reason for me to ask about how babies were made, as there weren't any around.

This strangely sterile upbringing had a very lasting effect on me. To this day – no matter how many or what kind of things I've done --  I can't begin a conversation with my kids about anything to do with sex. I don't mean rude comments or dirty jokes – that's no issue – but an actual serious conversation? Not happening. If one of them brings up a topic, then they've broken the ice, and it's smooth sailing from there on in.

But I just can't bring myself to initiate it.

Notes:

At the present time, the outline I have for this has come to 18 chapters, including this introduction. I will try to update as often as I can, but I ask you to keep two things in mind. One, that I work full-time at a mentally exhausting job (although I do actually love it) and can't manage to get time to write every day, although I'm trying. Two, I am going to be moving house over the next few weeks, and I have an absolutely dreadful amount of packing still to do! Updates may come more regularly after I'm settled in my new home.

If you have any suggestions for topics you would like to see covered, please message me about it!

[soterikfeminyne]

Brilliance, Interrupted or I Just Luv Wu

I have been devouring all thing Wu-Tang. The documentary on Showtime was dope. There are few things I love more than watching Black men just sitting around being happy; the scene in Japan just had me tearing up. I re-watched the old one too and have started following the Hulu docu-series. Naturally, their stories are like most Hip-Hop origin stories: tragic with bizarre Kismet twist. At one point the show even addresses how if just one thing had gone differently there would have been a solo artist launched, not 9 plus men of individual and collective brilliance. Following that thought and being me (a person who never has an experience and doesn’t think obsessively about it for days or weeks later) and always a Syfy kid, I started thinking about alternate universes. Not in the sense of changing everything but making one profound switch. What if the Black community recognized the importance of fostering mental health a mere 30 years earlier? Say Circa 1989. I bring this up knowing full well there’s a lot of OTHER terrible things that I would change first in this multiverse theory but that’s not the point. It is just one microcosmic switch in the very grand scheme of Earth #8005.

Watching just the documentary and only the first four episodes of the season, all I could think was gootttdamn. There are almost no fathers presents, one is a product of rape, 8 of the 10 from broken homes, alcoholism, children raising siblings and providing for families like they’re the head of households, spousal abuse, toxic masculinity, possibly a statutory case, and mothers who are clearly tired, overworked, and definitely depressed. Shit, this is even before you contemplate: poverty, oppression, systemic racism, police brutality, a broken justice system, epidemic drug use and production, and a failing education system that doesn’t see value in teaching Black and Brown babies pass the 4th grade.

[**SPOILERS, maybe**] These Brothers were at war with one another; I’m talking several attempted murders, over how to feed themselves and their families on different sides of the same damn borough in New York. Sadly, none of their stories are unique or even original but each of their talents are singular and was fueled by the desire to escape the status quo traps and pitfalls facing all Black and Brown men around the World.

I thought about more of my favorite groups and artists who have broken up, fizzled out, gotten locked up or died due to overdoses, suicide, or murder. IMAGINE if we had mental health practitioners and channels that nurtured us? Imagine Wu in group therapy on a bonding and healing journey. Lauren Hill and The Fugees in both separate and group counseling. *Side Note: for me, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill is the most important record put out in my teenage years.  If Big and Pac had been in conflict resolution talks, we would have all gotten to hear probably one of the dopest collabo album to exist. Just think of the production teams and the guest artist. Damn!

So, that being said, we exist in this universe. What I could see happening in my minds eye is that there are no better candidates to help our menfolk realize the value of mental health, evolving. I can almost picture all of Wu and the cats that help them along the way, on some TLC channel show with Iyanla VanZant, Oprah, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and damn I can’t even think of a prominent Black Man in the mental health evolution. Obama? Don Lemon? Realistically though I want these Brothers to heal far away from prime time and social media. As a fan, I just want to bear witness to and participate in the brilliance that would come from that place of peace. I mean if they made the music they made from shattered pieces glued together verbally, for a fragile moment in time…what would they do whole, healthy, and truly free; mentally, physically, spiritually, financially, and artistically? I sure do hope we’re about to find out.

[boglog]

HILL HOUSE NOTES !!

Objectively speaking, I like the show as a weird crossover between Transparent and American Horror Story but there are always some cons :/ One thing I will say is that I find it hard to review horror bc I'm too busy swimming in cortisol to notice plot holes but I watched the scary scenes w subtitles and no audio and that will have to do!!!

Cons:

The diologue is occasionally awful.

Scratch that it's terrible and the more the show goes on the more it nears Grey's Anatomy levels of nauseating

Firstly, there are way too many name drops esp when there are only two characters in the room, sometimes even one sentence after another, it's exhausting.

i.e. 'Stay right here, honey. I'm going to talk to the police now sweetie, I'll be right back.' // 'You eat people, Steve. You are a parasite, Steve.'

Second of all, 'Don't do that ever again. Don't do that. Where were you? I thought the house thingy got you.' kids don't talk like this. I know irl children tend to imitate the adults around them but the sheer amount of stock cliches these child actors are required to say is incredible

And honestly overall there's too much talking period. There are dozens of scenes where a character monologues for almost five minutes!!!!

I loved mind doppelgänger Leigh's speech but really let's tally it up: we've got Mrs Dudley's monologue, Olivia monologues a few times, Theo's monologue, Luke 2 or three monologues, one from Shirley, Hugh is not much of a talker so thank god they were consistent. And of course a lot of these are important to the story and even close to entertaining (see also: Nell yelling at Steve) but it's way too much and anything actually significant is diluted in this deluge of info-dump-y speeches

Why god??? Why?

Like this is television not radio but I guess it's another case of Forced Diegesis when summarising w flashbacks would actually be way easier on my psyche but Tacky for these Kinematic Auteurs

I would've liked a more in depth exploration of Olivia and her childhood experiences of paranormal tragedy to give us a better context for her morally grey slip into an evil mother

Still somewhat peeved at how, bc of supernatural instinct, we can justify Theo and CPS taking a child away from her home. Obviously the show can't waste so much time on what's only supposed to be a quick detour into Theo's character and it works within the world of the show given that the guy did confess but portrayals of police, first responders, social workers, ad nauseum making snap descisions like that is Not Good for people's real world perception of their rights. Just sayin.

Maybe a scene where Steve and Hugh apologise for being garbage humans or something idk that would've been nice

This show has many layers and interpretations which could either skew towards clever ambiguity or clumsy indescision and while I'm leaning toward the former, I will say it does go a little all over the place for me.

Are the Crains' superpowers genetic, from their mother? Did it come from the house? Why is the house was so vindictive? What does it want? Or is it more symbolic of the emptiness inside the characters? Why is Olivia decidedly an over controlling mother but Nell is an innocent? Is really the only thing Steve had to do to save his marriage was reverse the vasectomy? Nell died of her own paradoxical haunting that began when she was six so was the cause ultimately a sadness within herself before the house of strictly the house's pull?

Like it's v unclear (probably deliberately) wether or not the story was Psychosis All Along or it was the house's vendetta or bc the Crains specifically are a supernatural mutant family

We never find out what Nell does for a living and I'm curious

Finally: it's really white sometimes. Like. Painfully white. Granted, the Crains come close to my favourite kind of white person, the quirky dysfunctional family of adult children scattered all over the country who only reunite at their dead sister's funeral. Still, the POC tally up to two love interests (one of which DIES), one cop, one naïve widow, and one poor daughter-less foster parent. One could argue only a middle class white family would stay in a haunted house for so long ://

Pros

The show juggles seven characters and two plots flawlessly. Each character is recognisable w a distinct personality after about only two episodes, the nonlinear structure as we alternate between the present day frame story and the main plot in flashbacks before ultimately converging when the family reunites at the house for the last time is not only clear but parses its information in way that's not only not confusing but strengthens the tension and dread. Even while they show the flashbacks' ending (w Olivia and later Nell's death) as well as the epilogue, the build up still feels entirely justified. This is peak plotting right there.

Furthermore, Nell's ghost still manages to be in the spotlight with some jumpscares even after we know who she is

My soul pretty much left my body when Nell's ghost attempts to bond w her sisters via screaming as they argue in the car

A quintessential microcosm of the show's representation of time and memory is Nell's final speech: whimsically disjointed at first, poignant and clear by the end

It's a horror show that is completely dedicated to its characters (and I'm sure some of you already know my love of dysfunctional families) and centres around human themes of connection, mourning, and trauma and the necessity of vulnerability and letting go in order to live a full life. That's very rare in horror where we usually get gratuitous gore with a small spattering of sentimental scenes to further the gore.

Olivia's Forever House served as an excellent symbol for her need to control, the house's monicker implying her fear of change.

An incomplete but not bad portrayal of trauma, a decent addition to the topical and ever-expanding mental illness discourse

Also ft. meta commentary on writers

In the beginning, Olivia really was portrayed as a concerned mother who was always trying to be considerate of her children's emotional well-being despite her occasional snaps. One has to wonder wether her slip into an irrational need to control might reflect society's paradoxically oppressive expectations of motherhood: to have absolute control of your children while also being a benevolent saviour to them 24/7. I mean in all fairness to Olivia, she was working and raising 5 kids. I'd lose my marbles too.

Or maybe I'm giving the creators too much credit and they were only angling for an Other Mother thing. I like this Foucaultian nihilism though so we're gonna go w that.

The show's acknowledgment of Useless Dad and Entitled Eldest Son syndrome.

Spat my tea when doppelgänger Leigh ripped Steve a new one, and since she's a representation of his psyche maybe that means that Steve himself has gained some self awareness. (He should still... apologise to his family....)

I mean they were really spot-on with how birth order family drama goes.

Human portrayal of a lesbian as an adult and a child! As tumblr user Lesbeet said, this is very rare and deftly done!

Theo doing literally anything

Shirl is p adorable

Theo and Shirl: the comedy duo we absolutely need in our lives

Arthur and Nell's romance is joining Up's prologue in the golden vault of world's greatest ten minute love montages. (Both of which ended in tragédie. ☹️)

Shirl's AU dream sequence, which unlike the others, presents us with an extramarital faux pas that we were not previously aware of, manages to seem totally appropriate for her character

The set and costume design are perfect for the primordial fear of the unknown aesthetic the show was going for. Fairy flappers! Gothic stairwells! Punk rock leather gloves! A McMansion that doubles as a funeral home! Motels! A curvilinear LA mansion! The absolutely insane brutalist million dollar rehab centre! Oh boy!!!

Accurate mortician portrayal: they really do gotta wire the corpses' mouths shut. Those damn chatty dead people.

Tldr:

Diologue is lengthy and cheesy while the characters are Too White. The rare portrayals of POC and how social services work were lacklustre. 👎

The show's incredible ambition and dedication to its characters and themes of trauma, dysfunctional family relationships, and the consequences of coping via trying to control your life is amazing. Theo, especially, is amazing. It's a very goth show with clinically depressed ghosts.👍

[daleisgreat]

Star Trek: The Next Generation: Season Seven

-Finally, after three years of watching mostly one episode a week, I have finished my re-watch of all seven seasons of Star Trek: The Next Generation (season seven trailer)! I am thrilled to present my final entry here chronicling my adventures with the crew of the Enterprise! For the final season I was able to slightly bump up my viewing habits and mostly stuck to watching two episodes a week, and thus I was able to make faster progress on this final season! Somehow, my horrendously outdated Samsung Galaxy S7 phone has managed to barely limp along this entire journey with me, and the gloriously awful pics featured throughout this article are courtesy of that wonderful device. -Season six wrapped with an enticing cliffhanger to “Descent” where Lore managed to work some sinister sorcery to recruit a squadron of Borg and hack into the code banks of Data (Brent Spiner) in order to recruit him to join his cause. Season seven had a great kickoff to resolve this new threat, and had a satisfying conclusion at putting an end to Lore once and for all. I would rank “Descent” on the higher end of TNG two-part arcs, as the Lore/Borg/Data combination proved to be an intriguing antagonist to see how they would be dealt with.

Picard is ready for combat on the left, while falling ill on the Enterprise leads to crew members tripping with some wild illusions on the right! -I was a little bummed to see a complete lack of appearances from Whoopi Goldberg in her role as Guinan in the final season. I am presuming it must have been scheduling conflicts as she has always been in high demand, especially around this time just a couple years after her Oscar win for Best Supporting Actress in Ghost. Whoopi would return as Guinan in two of the four Star Trek movies based on TNG cast.

-A pair of recurring characters that did return for their final episodes this season are Michelle Forbes as Ensign Lt. Ro Lauren and Wil Wheaton as Wesley Crusher. Ro is fresh off tactical training for an important undercover mission that conclusively decides her fate with Starfleet as she would never appear in another Star Trek series or film again after this. According to my research I was surprised to learn it took a last minute agreement with Forbes within a week before filming to get her to reprise her role as she was starting to distance herself from the brand after initial plans to make her a mainstay on Deep Space Nine fizzled. Wesley Crusher’s final appearance had a better payoff in “Journey’s End” where during a vision quest he finally is deemed ready by a previous guest character, The Traveler (Eric Menyuk), to join him on a mystical journey to see Wesley fulfill his supernatural potential. I had no idea they were going to payoff these vague promises The Traveler alluded to in Wesley way back in season two, so big props to the cast and crew making that happen! -Other past recurring characters returned, but only to see them casted in middling-to-disappointing episodes. This is the case for Reginald Barclay (Dwight Schultz) in the head-scratching “Genesis” episode that has the Enterprise staff fall victim to a virus that de-evolves them into various primates. The love-or-hate mother of Deanna Troi (Marina Sirtis), Lwaxana (Majel Barrett), has a major sendoff in her final episode where we learn all about her tragic backstory.

-Speaking of mediocre episodes, season seven has a bit more than previous seasons. A two-parter sees Riker and Picard go undercover to form a fake mutiny to sniff out a Vulcan double agent, and while it is not terrible by any means, the whole arc seems bloated and the second episode feels unnecessary. “Phantasms” is as bizarre as the dreams Data (Brent Spiner) has in the episode, but Data later has a redeeming character episode in “Inheritance” where he meets his mother…..then later hits another stumble in “Thine Own Self” where his radioactive experiments causes a planet’s population to become seriously ill. I will give season seven the benefit of the doubt for the noticeable bump up in lackluster episodes because several of the bonus interviews own up to this and attribute it to the cast and crew being spread thin with the final season of TNG, the second season of Deep Space Nine and being in pre-production of the first season of Voyager and the upcoming movie with the TNG crew, Generations. -The holodeck’s sendoff in TNG, “Emergence” is a decent affair that sees the crew go aboard the Orient Express to solve the mystery of how the holodeck becomes self-aware. The episode had a few promising moments, but could have been better. While I enjoyed the quality of holodeck episodes overall in TNG, from what I understand the holodeck episodes greatly suffer going forward and falls victim to holodeck malfunctions and sexual fantasy tropes.

Worf once again has a strong set of character-focused episodes this season. You have not lived until witnessing Worf adopt a cat for an episode, and experience a birthday party time-loop. -Worf (Michael Dorn) has one of the strongest slate of character episodes this season. Seeing Worf being a curmudgeon at his birthday party was pulled off to perfection! “Homeward” is a feel-good family episode where Worf resolves his rocky relationship with his foster brother, Nikolai (Paul Sorvino). The best Worf-centered episode is saved for last where he trains Alexander (James Sloyan) in the arts of becoming a Klingon warrior with the help of a mysterious Klingon friend.

-A couple other episodes that made strong impressions on me this season are “The Pegasus” and “Lower Decks.” In the former, Terry O’ Quinn of Lost fame, appears here as a higher-up from Starfleet to track down the lost USS Pegasus, but Picard (Patrick Stewart) eventually discovers a grand cover-up that has an enticing way of finding the truth of what Quinn’s character is hiding. “Lower Decks” is entirely focused on the background Ensigns and ancillary characters like Nurse Ogawa (Patti Yasutake). The last couple years saw the streaming service, Paramount+ (formerly CBS All Access) launch a Star Trek: Lower Decks animated series with the very same premise, and if you are a fan of the cartoon, you owe it to yourself to track down this episode as its source material. “Interface” and “Bloodlines” are both strong episodes dealing with long forgotten family members. The former has Geordi (LeVar Burton) risking his life with prototype tech to save his mother (Madge Sinclair), and the latter deals with Picard’s surprise of finding out he had a son (Ken Olandt) from a decades-prior relationship.

-Now to the moment of truth, it is time to cover the final two-part episode, “All Good Things…” The series finale naturally focuses on Jean-Luc as he finds himself constantly time-warping between three different time periods to solve a new challenge bestowed onto him by none other than Q (John de Lancie). I loved how they brought it back full-circle with one of the time periods emanating from the same setting as the original pilot episode of TNG where Q puts the then-newly assembled Enterprise crew on trial. The cast and crew hold nothing back for the final episode with an enthralling narrative as Picard pieces together Q’s final challenge, and has an emotional final scene where after seven seasons, Picard finally joins his crew for a round of poker. -Here is the paragraph with my obligatory kudos to the countless hours spent remastering TNG in HD for the BluRay set. I am not a video-phile and cannot immaculately explain with the proper tech verbiage on how they did it. All I can say is the staff painstakingly made it look like they shot it today, and it does not have any of the old fuzzy standard definition effects that would happen when forcing an SD resolution onto an HD set. Just watch this indicative video that overlays the remastered HD transfer over the SD version to see for yourself. I will also give yearly props to the podcast, Star Trek: The Next Conversation which chronicles every individual episode of TNG and has served as the best supplementary listening material to get the most out of every episode for me. The podcast took a hiatus during the pandemic, and only recently picked up again and are only a couple episodes into season seven as of this writing, so I will pat myself on the back at catching up to them when I was nearly a season and a half behind them when I started from the beginning of TNG.

-You guys know I love covering the bonus features, and season seven of the BluRay is absolutely jacked with them with previous bonus interviews and specials, and all new HD extras. According to my notes, it all added up for just over five hours of bonus materials, and that is not including a handful of commentary tracks on selected episodes. Going over each and every piece of bonus content will kill me, so instead I will highlight the handful that I got the most out of: -----Captain’s Tribute (16 min) – Stewart gives loving testimonials to the cast and crew. A lesson he learned from a dialog with Michael Dorn and LeVar Burton was a key takeaway here. -----In Conversation: Lensing ST: TNG (42 min) - This one is a new HD extra aimed at special effects enthusiasts where a roundtable discussion with camera operators and directors of photography reunite to talk shop of the many highs and lows of on the set production. While a fair amount of trade vernacular went right over my head, they provided ample context and their enthusiasm for their craft is irresistible!

I know it is asking a lot to dive into the many hours of bonus interviews, but nearly most of it is incredibly insightful and well worth your time! -----Starfleet Moments & Memories (30 min) – Awesome feature showcasing the camaraderie and humor between takes that indicates a true sense of friendship among the cast and crew. -----Closed Set: Tour of Real Enterprise (11 min) – The Okundas give a private, narrated, tour of the Enterprise filled with fun facts like how the set for sickbay gained a reputation among cast and crew as “nap-bay.” Every person should have their own nap-bay! -----Journeys End: The Saga of TNG (45 min) – Original 1994 TV special hosted by Jonathan Frakes celebrating the end of an era. ----Sky’s the Limit: Eclipse of TNG (89 min) – Three part special with part one primarily focused on the cast and crew having a lot of projects on their plate the final year and lovingly throwing shade at Picket Fences for stealing their Emmy award! Part two interviews various directors of episodes about their process, and Seth McFarlane shares a special moment he had with a fan on how the show saved their life. The third part interviews a lot of the cast on how they felt the show wrapped, with a couple highlights being Sirtis not being fond of the Worf/Deanna courtship, and Patrick Stewart remarking when asked about future projects that he would consider them, but thought they would ultimately be unnecessary. This was obviously recorded several years before Stewart would return as Picard in the current Paramount+ series, Picard.

-Suffice it to say, the extra features do not disappoint! As I foreshadowed above, there is an apparent dip in quality this season overall compared to the high bar set from seasons three through six, but I will cut the cast and crew some slack since they were seriously overworked during the 1993-94 season. There are still many excellent episodes though as I dissected above, and a terrific series finale that puts the best damn bow they possibly could on the TV series. Thank you so much for joining me on this ride over the past three years and bearing with me on my never-ending entries covering the series. If you missed out on previous entries, click here to see all my previous season recaps of The Next Generation, or click here to continue my journey with TNG crew with my reviews of all the Star Trek motion pictures.

Past TV/Web Series Blogs 2013-14 TV Season Recap 2014-15 TV Season Recap 2015-16 TV Season Recap 2016-17 TV Season Recap 2017-18 TV Season Recap 2018-19 TV Season Recap 2019-20 TV Season Recap Adventures of Briscoe County Jr: The Complete Series Baseball: A Ken Burns series Angry Videogame Nerd Home Video Collections Cobra Kai – Seasons 1-2 Mortal Kombat: Legacy - Season 1 | Season 2 OJ: Made in America: 30 for 30 RedvsBlue - Seasons 1-13 Roseanne – Seasons 1-9 Seinfeld - Final Season Star Trek: Next Generation – Seasons 1-7 Superheroes: A Never-Ending Battle Superheroes: Pioneers of Television The Vietnam War: A Ken Burns series X-Men – The Animated Series: Volumes 4-5

[ukdamo]

The Abdication Question: Throne or Personhood

One of mine, from March, 1997. I wrote this 24 years ago: the narrative and characters have moved on - but the central question is still not resolved. It has a somewhat theological flavour - which might be off-putting to some. It would have a different flavour if I were to write it now. But, don't let the taste put you off...

It is so far a truism that revolution devours its children that we have failed to recognise, in the present plight of the House of Windsor, that monarchy can do so just as voraciously. The fact is that revolution and monarchy devour their children for the same reason - they represent a tyranny which is inimical to the “freedom of the children of God” (Rom 8:22). Present indications are that the demands made upon individuals by the institution of monarchy, as experienced in Britain, are simply insupportable. More pertinently, the issues raised have as direct a bearing on matters spiritual as on matters temporal.

Commentators on recent royal events have focussed on the question of duty, obligation and service. Rightly so, for this is one of the prime concerns. Of equal importance, however, and increasingly restless and demanding, is the necessity of giving the liberty of the children of God - and kings - its true value. The House of Windsor is sinking into an unhappy morass of unresolved tensions between these two. We have been slow to read the signs of the times; the winds have been blowing from the south (Lk 12:55) for a long, long time; 60 years or more.

In the person of Edward VIII, we see an individual obliged to wrestle with the paradox posed by the conflict between his constitutional role and his personal needs: evident in his concern, when Prince of Vales, with the miners and their working conditions, supremely evident in the Simpson Affair, He resolved the conflict between ‘role’ and ‘person’ by stepping out of role. This choice had enormous repercussions for this brother, George, and for the future development of the monarchy. George, subsequent to Edward’s abdication, was faced with the same dilemma. He resolved it differently - becoming the dutiful, if reluctant, king.

His consort, the present Queen Mother stiffened his resolve. In these events, we see the genesis of the family’s present problems: her strong personality, the circumstances surrounding her husband’s accession to the throne, the advent of WWII, all paved the way for a doubling and redoubling of the emphasis on ‘duty’ and ‘obligation’. These two have become so far elevated that choice and personhood have become synonymous with wilfulness and selfishness. A great pity, and a great stumbling block, because choice and personhood are the crux of the gospel and central to salvation.

Everyone knows that Christian theology places enormous emphasis on service, even to the extent of denying oneself and laying down one’s life. The Greek word used in the New Testament to indicate this self-emptying is kenosis. Relevant scriptural references might include I Phil 2:6-8, “His state was divine, yet he did not cling to his equality with God but emptied himself” or Mk 10:45, “For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many”.

When carrying such a big (intimidating!) stick, the Church / state / institution need only ever speak softly. Or so one might think.

Increasingly in recent decades, the rationale for such Christian service has been challenged. An imbalance begins to be redressed. New perceptions - dimly recognisable in the earlier part of the 20th century - become more and more distinct. People rebel because they recognise (perhaps unwittingly) the half-truth which kenosis represents. The corollary of kenosis - the very thing which validates the significance, value and virtue of self-sacrifice - is complete self-possession and, stemming from that, informed choice. Significantly for us, this trend, too, has roots in Christian theology.

I would contend that the self-possession spoken of is born of a dialogue between self and God. This dialogue illuminates and informs personhood. The early Church recognised as much: Augustine of Hippo, “Ut te cognoscam Deus meus, et meipsum” (To know you, my God, and myself likewise); or Irenaeus, “The glory of God is a person fully alive.” It is worth noting that the early Church stood outside the power structure of the ancient world. In the intervening centuries, weighed down by accretions, pacing the corridors of power, the Church lost sight of this valuable insight. Conformity and service is much more highly valued in such circles. Only now are we beginning to rediscover self-possession and choice, with the wonder of children. We recognise emerging possibilities, possibilities other than those which have been ‘received’.

To turn to informed choice. When person truly knows themselves, they may recognise that the realisation of their personhood only comes about through a humbling of self in service. Each of us has probably experienced the fulfilment which comes as a result of committing oneself to something outside of self. But we walk on a knife-edge: too often we have erred by substituting mere obedience, a suspension of the critical faculties, an abdication of personhood for such selfless service. This is sacrilegious. No-one, no institution, no power, no Church, no state, especially not God, may ask this. (Where there is service, there must be an ‘I’ who serves). Such an abdication would be to make oneself unrecognisable to self and God. It would trample the unique dignity of the human person under foot, it might imperil salvation. Imagine coming face to face with God at the last, only to be asked “Who are you?” The absolute necessity of self-possession and the informed choice which arises from it is attested to in ancient wisdom, scriptural and otherwise. Aristotle held that the unexamined life was not worth living.

John, in his gospel, places Jesus’ self-sacrifice in the context of absolute self-possession and self-knowledge. “Jesus knew that the Father had put everything into his hands, and that he had come from God and was returning to God, and he got up from the table, removed his outer garment and, taking a towel, wrapped it round his waist; he then poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel he was wearing”.

It is evident, my argument goes, that to serve out of duty and obligation profits nothing. (There can be no sin where there is no freedom; nor can there be virtue).

The younger members of the House of Windsor have been restive for two generations as the ‘service’ ideals conflicted with the equally demanding virtues of self-possession and choice. Margaret was ambivalent enough to voice the desire to marry Peter Townsend before the Firm reasserted its influence. Anne has been bold enough to divorce and remarry, and refused to have her children styled royals. Edward refused to serve any longer in the Marines and sought out a theatrical career. Andrew and Sarah failed to reconcile the roles of high profile navy couple and husband / wife. Most poignantly (?) and more centrally, Charles and Diana faced conflicting demands that have brought their marriage to grief and jeopardised their own physical and emotional well-being as well as that of their children. It appears evident that the pressure to conform becomes more intense the closer one is to the Succession.

Charles and Diana have, in different yet related ways, instinctively rebelled against the tyranny of monarchy. Charles’ searchings are no secret; witness Charles ‘the crofter’, the philosophical enquirer, follower of Laurens van der Post, commentator on architecture, organic farming etc...

Present reports indicate that Charles is still plagued by uncertainty and the quest for a personally meaningful role, Diana was obliged to pose the same question to herself almost before the ink was dry on the marriage register in St. Paul’s. For her part, she has been trying to answer it for more than fifteen years. The list of causes to which she is patron may be taken as a barometer of that endeavour.

The great tragedy of the House of Windsor, and its most monstrous feature, is its insistence on so lionising ‘service’ that it effectively precludes any possibility of its individual members gaining any real sense of themselves as persons. It dehumanises. It not only fosters but actually expects the abdication of personhood. Those of us who identify as lesbian, gay or bisexual will be familiar with the contours of the conflict described in this reflection, if not its precise topography. There are universal lessons to be learned from the particular experiences of lesbians, gay men, bisexuals and from the experience of the House of Windsor: conformity may exact a terrible personal price.

Great portions of the world have moved on in the past 60 years and now find such an insistence on conformity, duty, obligation, to be unacceptable. The Berlin Wall was breached in 1989, apartheid has been driven to extinction, the USSR crumbled, but the British monarchy resists. The present upheavals surely demonstrate that the line cannot be held much longer?

My personal hope, and perhaps the best resolution of this troubled affair of the House of Windsor, is for William (when he comes of age) to recognise that the game’s not worth the candle and abdicate the throne, thus saving himself both now. And forever?

[fireisafragilelover]

*after-note that i’m putting at the beginning bc i’ve been writing this for like an hour and i just realized this post is like 70% about me personally: i stand by what i’m about to say, bc i still think it’s fucking bullshit, but as a forewarning, im a little drunk and i think such situations also just bring out a fuckton of deep personal feelings.

okay so like, maybe this is just because i was in foster care for like a quarter of my life, but it is an extreme pet peeve when a character on a show acts like their life is over because they can’t have biological children. adoption is always an afterthought, which drives me fucking nuts, because i was in the system for over 6 years. which i realize doesn’t sound like a terribly long time, and i had a decent home, compared to other people’s experiences, but it was still the worst experience of my life, and that is saying something, because i literally grew up in a drug den. it has affected who i am as a person today, contributed to a ridiculous amount of my mental health issues and, in my experience, took away so much more opportunities than it gave. the system is not fun. i never felt safe or comfortable; always like an uninvited, inconvenient guest. important information about my family was withheld from me. in one of my short-term homes, i was made to hang up on my own mother because i was crying while i was talking to her, because i was eleven years old and i missed her voice and her presence. in my long-term home, i was meant to act like i was part of the family, but was never, ever treated as such. “be more like Ayla,” they told me, referring to my guardian’s straight-A, private school, dance-and-hockey-star biological granddaughter, who bullied me so terribly for becoming friends with her favorite cousin that i have trust and social interaction issues to this day. is it so terrible and unsatisfying to save someone from such a life? to make an unwanted/neglected child feel wanted and loved, just because they don’t share your dna? why is it always an afterthought?

there’s a comedian, maria bamford, i think, that spoke briefly about the topic in a segment where her mother makes the worst of every situation. in the segment, she tells her mother that her friend had a baby, and her mother mentions the number of children in foster care, saying “eeeevrybody wants one that looks like them; it’s so selfish.” and yeah, i know it very well may be a joke rather than a true conversation. but it’s fucking true tho??

*for context; i’m still catching up on GA, and callie is acting like it’s the end of the world bc she can’t have any more children after sophia. and while i understand that receiving such news can be devastating--really, i actually do understand. i have pcos, which will likely make it very difficult to have my own children, if i want them, bc i’m bad at self-care and i don’t take any of my medications, which doesn’t make it worse or anything, but also definitely will not help me at all if i decide to try at any point, and i was, to repeat the word, devastated, because i would love to experience that. but it wasn’t the end of the world, and i realized that, if i want kids and can’t have them on my own, i can adopt one of the bajillion kids that have no one, like i did for so long. WHY IS IT ALWAYS AN AFTER THOUGHT??? and then, to really piss me off, it took a whole ass surgery on a surrogate carrier for callie and arizona to be like “OMG, ALL IS NOT LOST AFTER ALL??” which still grinds my gears bc okay, it still has to be the option that will give you a biological kid, i fucking guess.

tl;dr: i’m forever pissy about the minimal attention us system kids get. like, i will never get over this.

[canaryatlaw]

okay, so today was overall pretty good. I woke up at 8:55, got ready, and then ubered to that thing I said I’d tell you about. So I’m in this online program that’s a child defender fellowship ran by the children’s defense fund, and it’s all about educating and equipping people to make a difference in children’s issues in their community, and as part of it they wanted us to reach out to a local child focused group and kind of chat with them about some stuff, so I contacted the local children’s advocacy center because I was familiar with them based on my work at the public guardians office. They’re basically the place families go when there’s been an outcry of sexual abuse and in some cases physical abuse in very young children. It’s largely focused on what’s called victim sensitive interviews, which is a specific interviewing method that works to get an accurate account of what happened out of the child without retraumatizing them, and to have a solid statement in order to avoid having the child have to repeat the story over and over again, which is not only traumatizing, but can lead to inconsistencies that a defense team could use against the child in any sort of court proceeding that results from the incident. So the work they do is very, very important. I’ve viewed some video tapes of VSI’s while at OPG and they’re very good at getting info out of children in a calm and organized fashion. I know when the child death case I worked on came in to the system, they interviewed the siblings there, and there account were crucial in securing the arrests of the two responsible parental figures, because the kids told them everything, not sparing any details as to exactly what was going on in that home, and it was really what built the case against the parents. That case has been on my mind a lot lately, as yesterday (the 28th) was the one year anniversary of me arguing the motion in court. Feels both like it was yesterday and that it was forever ago. I know I’m never going to get the resolution I want on that case, and that’s something I’m going to have to deal with. I didn’t expect this case to change me, but it did, in so many ways. I know it has made me a stronger advocate for children and given me even more of a passion to keep children safe. I can’t look at the picture of the sweet little boy who was taken from us that’s hanging on my wall without feeling a fire inside me that will only be satisfied with a lifetime spent fighting to save all the other sweet little boys and girls who are in danger. Rest in peace, Manny. I may not have ever met you, but you’ve changed me so much. Sigh. Anyway. I was kind of anxious going into the meeting because I really didn’t know what to expect, but it actually went really well. I met with someone on their prevention team, which is a relatively new division, and they work on training people to spot the type of behavior that can be indicative of sexual abuse starting and to stop it before it happens, which is of course incredibly important work. So we talked about what they did and I asked about how they felt the foster care system was failing children who were sexually abused, and what she would like to see done about it. Then we went on a tour of the facility, which is really a very well built center, lots of different departments and a focus on children, with brightly painted walls, toys, and even a full scale playground. So I left quite happy with my experience there. I did a shared Lyft home because it was cheapest, but it ended up being a bit of a pain because it took so long to get home. I had debated just going over to school since I was already downtown and just hanging out there, but I didn't actually have that much schoolwork I could do and didn’t feel like sitting around in an empty office while I could be doing other things. So I got home and made some lunch, then tried to get to work on editing my legal drafting assignment that was due tonight. I looked it over and changed a handful of minor things, but for the most part left it as it was. At this point I’m just going to believe that I can’t tell whether my work is good or not because I’ve clearly been mistaken on the subject before, so while I think what I wrote was largely crap, who knows, it might be just what they’re looking for. Guess we’ll see. I then spent quite a while fighting with Word about formatting issues, because it all has to be very particular for legal drafting, and I had used one of the forms off the cook county website because that’s what we were supposed to have, but then I had to convert it to a Word file and figure out how to add the academic integrity page, which turned out to be much more difficult than it had any right to be, and I had to scrap it and start over like 3 or 4 times. Eventually I got it to a point where I was satisfied enough with it, so I left it there. After finishing that I spent about an hour doing some of the dishes because our sink is once again overflowing with dirty dishes, which tbf is mostly my fault because I do so much cooking but don’t always feel like cleaning. I got through approximately half of the stuff, and I was gonna keep going by my back was hurting me and I was tired, so I decided to stop there and instead did the online forms for the child defender fellowship regarding meeting up with the children’s advocacy center. Then I printed my legal drafting assignments and made sure they were properly submitted online before heading over to school. I stopped at the library on the way up to use their stapler, because I don’t have my own damn stapler, then went up to class and turned it in. Class was short, it was about interviewing children which is of course something I already knew about because I’d already gone through the interview children and have in fact interviewed many children in these situations. So I took notes and paid attention, but it wasn’t really anything I didn’t already know. We got out at around 6:40 (class is supposed to go to 7:20), so I headed home and got back in time to watch Arrow. I think it was probably one of the better episodes of the season so far, though that’s not really saying much because I haven’t been terribly fond of this season. My girls though, they really stole the spotlight in this episode and their stuff was so great. I hardcore need this redemption plot for Black Siren, and I’m gonna be so ticked off if they screw it up. And Dinah, man, she is one intense lady and she’s pretty damn fierce. So I guess I enjoyed the episode for the most part. After that was over I went to watch the last episode of the first season of Game of Thrones, lots going on there. I have been informed that Ned Stark does indeed stay dead, so that’s unfortunate. I hate Joffrey so freaking much, stupid little brat that he is, and someone needs to save poor Sansa from where she’s practically being held captive in that castle. Arya, my sweet murder child, who is now so freaking traumatized from witnessing her father’s death, and then has to take up the life of a street urchin to keep herself off the radar of the crazy royal people who would very much like to capture her. I absolutely adored the moment where the two boys are ragging on her and she pulls the sword on them and is like “I’ve already killed one fat boy. I’m good at killing fat boys. I like killing fat boys” and I was just like YES ARYA BBY YOU’VE COME SO FAR and I’m just so proud of her and her little murderous soul. I’m still not entirely sure what’s going on with the other Lannisters and such, other than they seem to be plotting to take Joffrey off the throne, which I’m clearly all for. And Jon Snow is out somewhere with some sort of army doing something. Then there’s my girl Daenerys, who’s just like it’s chill guys I’m just gonna walk into this funeral pyre for my dead husband while it’s one fire and emerge unscathed with three baby dragons because she’s the MOTHER OF DRAGONS, DAMMIT and I can’t wait to see what she does with them next season (I mean, I read her character breakdown on the GoT wiki, so I know some of it, but I’m looking forward to seeing it happen on my screen). After that I watched an episode of The Royals just for the heck of it, which I suppose is a fairly entertaining show, I’m just not very invested at this point and haven’t really found a reason to be. Oh well. After that I started getting ready for bed and now I’m here. Tomorrow I have PT in the morning, then I’ll probably do some grocery shopping and try to work on my civil rights midterm essay, and then at night I have small group, and I think we’re going to a Thai restaurant, so that should be good. Pretty tired now being that it’s 1 am, so I will bid you goodnight here. Goodnight my loves. Happy Friday.

[yespoetry]

Mother Said, Nobody Becomes An Artist Unless They Have To

By Claire Rudy Foster

My mother said she’d kill me if I wrote about her. She laughed, because it was a joke, because of course she’d never actually kill me. She’d just make me wish I was dead.

As an adult, I have written about many kinds of mothers; I have become a mother, myself. But I have left the place in my heart where my real mother lives wild, unexplored, and dark.

I believe that she wants it that way.

My mother, for better or worse, finds her way into my stories. I’ll start a new story and there she is, looking at me over her glasses. She’s a great reader, my mother, perceptive and sharp. She misses Michiko Kakutani’s column in the New York Times and hasn’t bonded to the new book review editor yet. My mother is a critic, like me: she’s impossible to impress.

She doesn’t read my writing. It upsets her too much.

Yet, when I write, she is often the reader I’m envisioning. I practiced my first stories on her, after all. I keep offering her things when I know she won’t take them. I can only make one thing, sentences, and I bring them to her like dead birds, watch her step over them, watch her carefully bury them in the rubbish heap.

I revisited the unidirectional relationship between mother and child when I picked up a battered copy of White Oleander from a free library box this summer. I read the novel in 1999, right before it got selected for Oprah’s Book Club and became a #1 national bestseller. It represented everything that I wanted: everything I wanted to experience, everything I wanted to be as a writer and a person. Janet Fitch and I were alumni of the same college: she graduated in the same class as my father, when he went there. Her prose was fiery, floral, packed with images that dripped like LSD trails. Astrid, the main character in White Oleander was the same age I was when I first picked it up, and as I read it, I felt myself maturing, hardening.

At night, I prayed for a life worth writing about. I didn’t know what I was asking for.

Yes, I got what I wanted.

What I didn’t get was a mother like Ingrid Magnussen: the white haired Viking poet whose bond to Astrid prevails through a decade-long separation. Serving a life sentence for poisoning a lover who jilts her, Ingrid sends Astrid letters from prison. Her sections of the novel, I remember, felt flat to me, and when I first read White Oleander I admit that I skimmed those scenes, flipping through Astrid’s visits to the prison and the strange notes she received from her mother at her many addresses. I didn’t realize it at the time, but those letters were missives from my future.

She writes, “Remember, there’s only one virtue, Astrid. The Romans were right. One can bear anything. The pain we cannot bear will kill us outright.”

When I revisited this novel, I realized that Ingrid was the mother I wanted, back then. She was also the mother I had become.

My teens and twenties were the kind of miserable that breeds artists or suicides. I overdosed on heroin at 18, lost my virginity to a rapist in a Mediterranean hotel, saw a few gunfights, learned how to take a punch. I survived myself, as Astrid did, and those experiences became a patchwork of scar tissue that covered my heart. Like Astrid, my pain protected me from the way the world continued to batter me, the way the first slap will numb your whole face, overstimulate your nerves, so that the next one and the next one feel like nothing, not even when his ring catches your lip, it’s nothing, just impact, and you’re used to that, you know the feeling, you’re tired of it before it even gets going.

When I was 19 years old, I came home from college and went to a party, where someone put a roofie in my drink. Drinks. I remember standing near the bonfire on the beach, surrounded by people I used to know, and then the next thing the whumph of my body hitting the sand, rough hands hauling me up, touching under my arms, my breasts. I remember trying to find my feet as they pulled me down an alley; who did this to me? I stumbled, and then everything was grey, and then everything was black.

I came to with my friend Scott on top of me. It was dark, early morning.

“Scott, are you fucking me?” I said.

He didn’t answer. He hauled me on top of him and continued, although I pushed him back and turned my face away from his kisses. He put his mouth on my breasts. He smelled like leather that has been soaked in speed and salt, dried in the sun. I knew he was injecting---I tried to think about HIV transmission, Hep C, how the barriers of my body had been breached without my knowledge. I could be dying, right now. This could be the thing that killed me.

My voice shrank in my throat. This is my friend, Scott, I said to myself. What had I done to deserve this?

When he was finished, he said, “Be grateful I didn’t cum.”

He hadn’t used a rubber. My physical self woke up one limb at a time. There was the nightmare feeling of panic, and being trapped in a body that is not responsive and can’t run when you need to get away. I eased myself out of bed, onto the floor. It took a few minutes to stand up, and although I was ashamed and wished I could wrap myself in the sheet at least so that he could not see my nakedness, I felt a terrible, tearing heat between my legs and it was more important to get away so I did, and there was some blood on the toilet paper and on my lip where it had split, how did that happen, what did I do? What was done to me?

I put my hands on the bathroom sink for balance and tried to wash my face without looking in the mirror. I didn’t want to see myself as a sick animal. Next to my right hand were the dozen hairpins I’d used when I got dressed up for the party. They were laid out in a perfect line, each one square and symmetrical to the others. Who did that? I scooped them into my palm and held them. More than anything, I wanted my mother.

Scott walked me home, as though we’d just been on a date, and when I staggered into the house my mother saw me and asked me and I told her. It was not my first rape, or my last one, but it is the only one she helped me with. She called the police, and she rode with me in the squad car to the place where they scrape cells from the inside of your body to see if they can find any incriminating DNA. My mother, who said nothing, sat by me and held my hand while the person collecting evidence from me - me, I was a crime scene - slipped a tiny speculum into my ass to swab for semen.

“Wow, yours is so easy,” the person said. “Most people, it takes more than one try.”

I was ashamed. Because my ass opened easily, maybe I was easy, maybe I was built for all kinds of violation. My mother passed me a piece of candy and I put it in my mouth, trying not to cry. We never talked about what happened. I blamed her, of course. I thought of all the things I wished she’d said or done. When I hear other people’s stories about their supportive mothers, I quivered with jealousy. My mother was not like other people’s mothers.

I didn’t understand that, in my moment of pain, she was as vulnerable and scared as I was.

Probably, she wanted her mother.

Nobody came with me to give my statement to the police. I brought a stuffed toy my mother had given me, a pudgy wad with string bean arms and legs and a Muppet nose. There was an advocate sent by some nonprofit, who sat next to me making faces of disgust when I described what I’d experienced.

“Did you say ‘no’?” the detective asked. She was young and pretty, with a high curly ponytail. She looked like she was going to coach a cheerleading practice after this. She made notes on her clipboard.

“I couldn’t speak,” I said.

She put the pen down. “In the state of California, it’s not ‘no’ unless you say ‘no.’”

“It was rape,” I said. “I’ve been raped before, I know what it feels like.”

The detective shook her head and closed the book of mugshots. Scott’s was in there: I’d pointed to him, identified him, and repeated my story into the detective’s tape recorder. I said things I couldn’t say in my mother’s presence, about my drug use and the other people who were there. Exactly the positions. Exactly the feelings. Yet, I resented her for not leaving work to be with me. The detective stood up.

“Are we done?” I asked. “That’s it? You’ll arrest him?” “You didn’t say ‘no,’” she repeated, and left the room. I was numb. I sat outside the police building for a long time, crying and holding this silly, stuffed animal. The advocate stayed for a few minutes. I tried to put my head on her shoulder and she scooted away, until she was sitting a good three feet away from me on the concrete bench. Then, she also got up and left me alone. I was 19. A child. I needed my mother; where was she?

Ingrid said, “Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment.”

I cried until the bus came, and then I went home and lay down in my bed. When the winter break ended, I went back to college. I have never talked about this, or any of my sexual assaults, with my family. I believed that their silence meant that they did not care what happened to me. I treated myself accordingly. It was not the last time I woke up with someone raping me, or the last time institutional justice failed me. Like Astrid, I was hardening, losing faith. Every time I was hurt, my armor got thicker. I drank more. I was never not ready to die.

But now, when I revisit that memory, all I can think about is how my mother silently watched me bear the pain and humiliation of that exam. It never occurred to me that she was suffering too. I didn’t think about this until I had a child of my own. Loving him introduced me to real vulnerability. I couldn’t be weak anymore: I had someone to protect. For the first time, I understood how my mother felt about me, when I was new. It was an animal feeling. I loved him so much, I could have committed terrible crimes.

The first words I said to him, into his new, perfect ears, were, “If anyone ever hurts you, I will fucking bury them.”

My son has a ferocious mother. Before he existed, I was a victim: at best, someone who would survive. Six rapes, heroin addiction, overdoses. It was the kind of life that pounds you into the ground like a wooden stake. Then, I got pregnant, and my entire outlook on life changed. I had someone to stand up for, so I had to learn to defend myself.

Imagine my discomfort at opening White Oleander again, and seeing Astrid not as a reflection of myself, but as her ferocious, unforgiving mother. I saw her monstrousness and her total disdain for human weakness, but this time, I wondered what she’d experienced that made her so hard. I was learning how to be a single mother, an easy target for unscrupulous men. I knew what it meant to walk around in a woman’s body - the price the world exacted from us from being beautiful. I wondered where Ingrid’s mother was.

Part of being a good mother is letting your child learn to bear their own trouble. I couldn’t be with my son every moment: I couldn’t stand between him and the bully at school. I had to let go of him in small ways, at the right times, and it burned me like coals. I felt like my one hand reached for him and the other restrained it.

At the same time, I went through my own processes. My son saw me messy, tired, crying, out of money, scared. He saw me asleep and awake, laughing and mourning. He witnesses my vulnerability. I think that is the fear of all mothers: that we will raise a child who sees our weaknesses and shares them with the world. We trust them to keep our shortcomings to themselves. Yet, always, they see us and they hear us and our failings make indelible marks on them.

By the time Astrid reaches adulthood, she’s covered in scars, inside and out. She’s been chewed up by the foster system. She’s had many mothers. As I finished White Oleander this time around, I wanted to hug her. Pass her a piece of candy.

“You poor thing,” I’d say. As though she hadn’t just given birth to herself. As though she hadn’t studied, her entire life, how to be a survivor.

Claire Rudy Foster's essays on addiction, queer issues, and writing are featured in The Huffington Post, The Rumpus, and Racked, among others. Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, her fiction can be found in McSweeney's, Thrice Fiction, and many other rad journals. She is a book reviewer and very gentle rabble-rouser. Claire lives in Portland, Oregon.