#they are unable to heal and are stuck in self destructive habits

[lightninja38]

Not a Shen Jiu hater, not a Yue Qi hater, but a secret third thing.

[alyjojo]

New Year Reading for 2024! 🌟 - Cancer

Preshuffle: You’re moving away from a situation that’s kept you stuck, bound, or trapped for a long time, moving towards optimism, a dream, something that feels more authentic for your soul’s purpose, and consciously healing from whatever hurt/dramas are being left behind. I heard “you’ve got this!”

Meditation: Your door was watery, shifty, changing, like looking through colored glass, and when I opened it, I got hit with a massive tidal wave of water (representing emotions). You were sitting in a hot air balloon that had been submerged for who knows how long, and you smiled really big and said “finally!” before lighting up the balloon and taking off. You’re being released from something that’s had a hold on you emotionally, and it feels like freedom, or freeing, like you can do anything/something you’ve been held back from or unable to do.

🔸 Whole of Your Energy: The Sun & 9 Swords

Regarding: The Star ⭐️

Very similar to your meditation. Especially for those of you in relationships, but also generally, with Happy Accident connecting these two, you’re realizing how events in your life have changed things - outside of your own decision making or conscious mind, and things have or will turn out for the best. You’re finding new faith in yourself, your life journey, Spirit, your committed relationships, and the things you’ve had to let go of along the way (also something you’re still working on - the leaving behind). You don’t have to sit in indecision, fear, or worry anymore to know that where you are and where you’re going is where you’re supposed to be, or going. If not, Spirit will let you know, they always do. 9 Swords shows the deepest darkest recesses of your mind, the things that plague you and play in a loop, over and over again in your head. For most this can be related to mental health, either discovering & using tools that calm the mind or waking up to how your own mind works against you, and maybe has been - especially in relationships. The Sun ☀️ brings this to light, so you can let it go and move towards a more positive & optimistic future. It feels like shedding skin, this Death relates to what’s gone, but it’s more like the transformation of yourself - inside. For the risings, Jupiter moving to your 12th House with Saturn in your 9th shows spiritual experiences, learning about the unconscious, whether outwardly or inwardly, both. Some of you are on the verge of spiritual awakenings. Or learning your unconscious mind, behaviors, habits, self destructive tendencies.

🔸 Character Card: The Cartographer 🖊️

This is an energy of remembering every single little thing, where you’ve been and what you’ve done up to this point, appreciating the sights and experiences you’ve overcome, and now being at a crossroads to determine where to go next. When fear or worry plagues your mind, embrace courage instead.

“There is freedom waiting for you, On the breezes of the sky, And you ask "What if I fall?" Oh but my darling, What if you fly?” 🦅 ― Erin Hanson

General & Relationship Oracle:

61 - Happy Accident

Fortunate accidents can act as guides to edit and be open to where you should go next.

🔸 Relationship: 10 Cups & Page of Swords

Regarding: Wheel of Fortune

Beautiful energy for those of you in relationships, Happy Accident is connected to this as well and you could find yourself feeling very grateful for things that have happened you never could’ve seen coming. Wheel of Fortune is very lucky for you, 7 Pentacles & 6 Cups follow showing that seeds you’ve planted in the past are going to bear fruit this year and leave you feeling very happy and fulfilled - 10 Cups. The Sun, 10 Cups & Wheel of Fortune are all tens - endings - the best kinds. Some of you could have new family members, babies, whether yours or other people’s, and it’s a feeling of “the more, the merrier!”

Just as you’re learning more about yourself, your mental space, and the things that make you feel good (or make you feel ick), you’re also waking up to what 10 Cups is for you - the “happily ever after” card. It may have changed from what it used to be, or rather what’s happened outside of your control or expectations - has changed how you view happiness, true love, and what it is that makes you feel deeply fulfilled, when it comes to love & happiness. You may have have grown up wanting a farm and now are actually grown and realize no…you just want a cute little house somewhere warm, and a few cats 🐈 And that’s exactly what you have, you just never knew that’s what you wanted. Or switch it however, maybe you wanted a boat and developed a fear of water, no longer wanting a boat. Could be anything.

🔸 Singles: The Magician & The High Priestess

Regarding: 3 Wands rev

Don’t shoot the messenger, but I don’t see you guys even wanting a full-blown relationship this year. You’re too happy doing things on your own. I do see something you’ve tried to manifest quietly, maybe some sneaky fling or a quiet kind of affair, not working out or not showing up at all if that’s what you’ve been involved in. 10 Pentacles with 4 Cups at the bottom, either you’re interested in someone that’s involved already (that’s not working out), or you’re not interested in having this for yourself. It’s possible you date someone that has a whole family, kids, ex baby mama/daddy and you would rather opt out. Why dedicate yourself to a joint situation when you can just *not* and feel perfectly fulfilled in your own self? It’s all too much, and if it’s too much, it’s probably not for you. Not this year anyway.

9 Pentacles shows you feeling financially secure, independent, happy doing what you want, when you want, you don’t “need” anyone, which nods towards what needs to be left behind and any past abandonment issues and this feeling of “needing” someone. You’ve realized you don’t 💯 You’re good. Or you will. Page of Wands could show some flirty invitations, dates even, connections that don’t go too far but you’re not sitting around like a dud either. Wheel of Fortune comes out showing that of the people coming in and going out, one or more of these could be karmic in nature or even divinely guided to you. Wheel of Fortune also shows up with those in relationships, and “happy accidents”, so just because you’re not getting a full-blown 10 Pentacles this year, doesn’t mean that you won’t meet someone worthwhile. Someone that changes what you thought you wanted even. They likely won’t fit what you thought you wanted, they’re re-writing it altogether. They’re different than your usual type, that’s all I get from them, deep down you’ll know it’s *something* more than meets the eye - The High Priestess. Feels like a very spiritual connection, whether either of you are deeply spiritual or not, could be that too. You won’t move too fast with anyone though, and I get them changing your mind. The right one is single, not in a relationship.

Describe “the right one” for Singles:

They got The Sun & 9 Swords, the same two cards in your general energy, and The Enchanter.

Not the greatest energy tbh, they’re a deceiver, or at least they have been before. This person could have a shadowy past, formerly a player, you can’t tell if they’re genuine or if it’s all “smoke and mirrors”, they’re very charming and could be an entertainer or get a lot of attention with whatever they do. Whether or not this is “the one”, they will bring all of your fears, worries, and anxieties out into the light for you to face, consciously recognize, and heal. Either way it’s a karmic lesson for your highest good. Some of you are waking up to this on your own, the right one is yourself 💯, and others will be doing this because of another person showing it to you, or the experience with them will. It’s possible you’re the one doing this for them too, karmic relationships are a two-way street. For those of you waiting around on someone that’s in a relationship, you could be all of this energy, and the reality of your situation has simply shown it to you, because they’re 4 Cups…not choosing you, apathetic, bored, not committing, not genuinely in this. Choosing this. They don’t.

Singles Oracle:

26 - Accomplishment

Remember past accomplishments as a way to overcome present self-doubt.

🔸 Career: The Fool & 4 Cups

Regarding: Death

Career is the least stable of all of these areas, because I don’t see you giving a damn about any jobs you’ve ever had, nor the one you currently have, probably not the one you go after next. You’re bored, apathetic, you don’t even care, it’s just a paycheck. Necessary, but you don’t see it going anywhere, and because there’s no real growth potential, it could cause some of this 9 Swords mental strife that’s coming to light in your energy. You may have jumped from job to job to job and hate them all, so you quit that one and still need one, hop to another, hate that shit, quit, crap I need money, etc. 4 Swords clarifying shows you need a break, meditation time, a vacation from whatever you’re doing to calm your mind this year - career futures are a part of this, because of The Star. What do you really want? Obviously being a millionaire. What would you enjoy doing every day? What do you feel is your soul’s purpose? And what would it take to get somewhere more aligned with what that is? I don’t see results this year, at least not for everyone in this general reading. But this reading could even be “the seed” of your Oracle, or something else, planting this in your brain to consider…who do you want to be?

I see it possible you’re taking care of someone with health issues, maybe even impulsively quitting a job to be available for that - likely a parent or spouse. Or staying at a job you hate for the same reasons. You could be needing to leave behind a job due to health reasons, even mental health, could be temporary, rehab is possible for someone. There’s a Death here, and needing to heal or recover, in a way that’s positive & has the potential to grow. Some of you could decide to work in health industries, focusing on getting better, physical therapy, pharmaceuticals, or even a health food store type of thing, protein powders and fish oil, etc., that’s for someone. There will be a time period of endings, a break period - not just jumping into something else you hate, meditation & healing helping you move towards a more authentic path - The Star. What that entails may not be easy though.

Career Oracles:

32 - Details

Examine your situation and take care of every detail, one step at a time.

15 - Seed

Having the intention to grow like a seed and bloom is at the heart of creativity.

🔸 What needs to be left behind in 2023: King of Swords & 5 Pentacles

Regarding: 8 Cups rev

For many this is saying you need to be fair & see things from a logical mindset, in regards to popping in and out of other’s lives - and how they will treat you because of this. An apology could be helpful, where you’re the culprit. For some, this King of Swords could be a particular person that does this to you, you do, or this is you. They leave and come back, and leave and come back. For some, there could be an apology coming to you, and for others you need to be the one that walks away from this dynamic. Or just set the bar, King of Swords, “you can’t just walk in and leave again, I’m not going to keep allowing this”. This King doesn’t have to be mean, but he’s emotionally detached, he gives no fks & his words don’t have any added sugar either, he is detached and says what needs to be said, drawing a line in the sand with his sword. Facts are facts. Air energy. He’s quick to cut off what no longer serves him, and in some cases you might have to, but Cooperation is more of a positive card to go with this, and 3 Pentacles clarifies that - meaning the same thing. For some, this may be an ex you share a child with and they’re ducking out on their kid, not showing up, not doing their job. King of Swords can be a judge or some kind of lawful official too, Page of Pentacles can be contracts. Take them to court 💯 Then it would be “cooperation” itself being left behind, or someone could be doing this to you, or has. For most it’s the in & out situation that needs to stop - in favor of being with people that are like-minded and support you, that you can count on. They actually show up. For others, there could’ve already been a legal or custody issue, and you’re leaving it behind *in favor* of teamwork and cooperation, especially if you have a child.

Release Oracle:

25 - Cooperation

Your goal can benefit from you surrounding yourself with like-minded people.

🔸 Astrological Shifts in 2023 (for Risings):

Jan 01 - Mercury direct in Sag

Jan 21 - Pluto enters Aqu (again) - 8th House ☠️

Feb 14 - Mars conj. Pluto Aquarius - 8th House ☠️ - likely intense, sexual, powerful, & transformative, marriage/divorce for some

Mar 09 - Mars Aqua squares Uranus Tau at 5:55 P.M. - likely a day of conflict

Mar 21 - Venus conj Saturn Pis - love & boundaries go hand in hand

Mar 25 - Lunar Eclipse in Lib - 4th 🏡

Apr 01 - Mercury retrogrades Ari - 10th 🔨

Apr 08 - Solar Eclipse in Ari - continued lessons from the nodes throughout this year, issues between masculine/feminine likely, father/mother, action/reception, others/self

Apr 24 - Mercury direct

May 18 - Venus conj Uranus & Sun conj Jupiter, all in Taurus - 11th 🤝, could be very lucky with money/investments, networking & friends at this time, growth & expansion

May 25 - Jupiter enters Gem - 12th 😵‍💫, one of the more positive 12th placements - spiritual protection & possible awakening

May 29 - Mars conj Chiron Ari @ 22’ - 10th 🔨 addressing pain related to father, work, reputation, authority

June 29 - Lilith enters Lib - 4th 🏡 Only felt with close aspects, may be a source of contention in the home/with the mother, or related to these things

July 06 - Venus Can square Chiron Ari - 1st 🫵 vs. 10th 🔨- issues with a father/boss/job may come to light, old wounds or new ones, could feel attacked or old wounds are triggered

Aug 04 - Mercury retrogrades Vir-Leo - 3rd 🗣️ & 2nd 💰

Aug 19 - Venus Vir opposes Saturn Pis & Jupiter Gem squares both - T square of 3rd 🗣️, 9th 😇, and 12th 😵‍💫 - could have a major spiritual experience, a crisis in belief, an awakening, learning about unconscious habits, behaviors, possible counseling, expansion of the mind, beliefs and understanding - being a student of life energy, good or bad

Aug 27 - Mercury direct Leo

Sept 01 - Pluto enters Cap (last time) - 7th ❤️

Sept 16 - Venus Lib opposes Chiron Ari @ 22’ - 4th 🏡 & 10th 🔨- not a fan of the degree being 22’, involves or address pain with father, work, masculine, a reoccurring theme this year

Sept 17 - Partial Lunar Eclipse Pis - 9th 😇, preparing for the nodes to shift next year

Oct 02 - Solar Eclipse Lib - 4th 🏡

Nov 19 - Pluto enters Aqu (for good) - 8th ☠️

Nov 25 - Mercury retrogrades Sag - 6th 🤒🐶

Dec 06 - Mars retrogrades Leo - 2nd 💰

Dec 15 - Mercury direct Sag

Dec 24 - Jupiter Gem squares Saturn Pis - 12th 😵‍💫 vs 9th 😇 - extremely spiritual indications here, pay close attention to your experiences at this time, you’re meant to learn from them, may be unconscious to you initially.

Happy New Year! 🥳

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part V)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Eren and reader meet face to face and are determined to put an end to the tension that has been building around them since Eren returned from Marley.

Word Count: 7.9k 

The light wind blew the few leaves that had fallen from the trees around me at the same time that it generated a slight comfort, as if the same wind was hugging me and holding me between its countenance. The branches moved to the beat of it sweet music and danced a slow tango around two figures ready to end the other. We were both facing each other, each positioned perfectly and vertically above the other's line of sight, only a few steps separated, perhaps two meters apart, but still the difference wasn’t an obstacle to inspect each other.

Eren standed stiffly on the muddy floor, a position that was becoming a habit lately every time he was about to confront someone, either with words or with blows. His shoes were dirty and torn, some small holes showed through the cloth. Strands of hair fell on his forehead and some were stuck to the skin due to the mud and earth that the footsteps threw into the air. His eyes...just as empty of any light and life that might exist.

His jaw was clenched as well as one of his fists, I didn't find any sign his hand was hurt or his palm was bleeding and dropping a few drops to the floor, so I assumed it wasn’t in his plans to transform here and now. But that didn’t mean that I could be calm.

As for me, surely Eren was looking at me the same way a wolf looks at a little sheep or a poor dwarf white rabbit, one of the most defenseless animals in the food chain. Apparently I was the meal and it was time for lunch. But I was very sure that Eren hadn’t limited himself to looking at me with that horrible analogy, he’d surely noticed my torn and bloody clothes, as well as dirty with mud and some other things that I wanted not to investigate or put my nose in them. He had probably also noticed the multiple scratches on the skin of my arms and on my face, wounds already dry and in the process of healing thanks to the sweat from adrenaline and the race through the forest made in a few minutes. He had probably noticed little strands sticking to the crook of my neck and cold sweat dripping down my spine.

I don't doubt he surely noticed the fire burning in my eyes, my gaze radiating determination, a determination to get out of this place as unscathed as possible and find a way to fix this whole damn situation. He would have noticed how my figure was a reflection of his, I wouldn’t move if he didn’t move, I wouldn’t stop squeezing a finger if I didn’t see he stopped squeezing his. It was like being on the other side of a mirror, copying each and every one of the other's movements.

"So ... wanna make the first move?" My breathing was ragged, however neutral my face might be. Inside I was afraid, I was always afraid, it was a normal feeling and sensation. I was already used to feeling this unconditional fear when going out into the world.

The wind blew around us again, it was like a sweet melody cradling my ears, it was like feeling a hand caressing my battered face, a caress that I hadn't felt for a long time. If the moment had been different, it would have taken me some time to close my eyes and enjoy the breeze. If I did that right now, I would end up badly beaten and dejected, perhaps dead as well.

The breeze was dancing for a few seconds and stopped short, as if the world and time itself had stopped, only the two of us were able to move and yet neither did. Everything around us was silent, not the chirping of a cricket or the footsteps of an animal could be heard. Neither did any footsteps or voices from the other Jaegeristas, completely ignoring their locations, while ignoring the whereabouts of my beloved horse. It was just me and Eren in this little airless bubble.

Seconds of silence and in an instant Eren stepped forward and instinctively I stepped back, letting my left foot hold much of my weight on this. I was leaning back with the possibility of running if necessary, but knowing Eren I would only run a couple of meters before having him on my back and holding me like we’re playing hide and seek. My hands were raised to my torso, palms facing the ground and in position to become fists or grab something, whatever was out of the trees to counter or defend myself.

It wasn’t a position that I wasn’t completely unfamiliar with, was like reliving the old days as cadets in training, each one trying to search for the opponent's strengths and weaknesses, evaluating the chances of attack and their effectiveness. It really was like self-defense practices, practices that Eren put so much effort and determination into. I used to watch him from afar when my partner ended up on the ground given the multiple blows to the stomach that I had so proudly learned from my father. I used to see his frustrated face when Annie managed to knock him down with a simple leg movement or when Reiner was too abrupt to the point of knocking him to the ground from his high height. And yet, no matter how many blows and humiliations the poor boy felt when practicing self-defense, he never stopped fighting and asking for more blows, as if violence and physical damage were his only form of training. Already in the first practices I knew he was completely crazy, that he had something bad in the head, but his determination and that sparkle in his eyes when he got angry at losing, in the same way that a small child gets angry when they don’t have what they wants, was what caught my attention the most.

I used to fight him repeatedly in these same practices, being positioned in the same places we are now, one of us with a flabby wooden knife, but capable of doing a lot of damage if we didn’t use it properly. I was already used to the agile movements that I could perform with a simple kitchen and hunting knife, living much of my lifetime in the middle of a small town lost in the woods. I was used to defending myself and attacking animals with little rational intelligence, which made them much more dangerous than a simple human. I was equally used to dodging punches, and punches, able to redirect them and hit the weakest points of my prey. But I wasn't used to the low blows this boy was capable of. I always had to cover my back because I didn't know when he was going to jump on me and throw me to the ground, like the first time I knocked him down with a blow to the chin and when I was about to change partners, he grabbed my back and neck to throw myself on the floor and make me eat dirt. I didn't know if even throwing him to the ground multiple times he would go against my leg and bend it, hitting my head not only against the floor but also against his shoulder. I didn't know when he would apply the same technique Annie had taught him weeks ago. Unarmed or with a damn wooden knife Eren was dangerous because he was willing to keep fighting, even if he was going to fight dirty, without rules or codes.

I have faced him multiple times throughout the three years of training and in each confrontation there was something new that surprised us both, be it his various angry movements or my simple stances and punches capable of stopping the fight in any way. And that same uncertainty was also reflected in the times we went out to fight with what, at that time, we thought were simple and common titans, unable to deduce the actions of the other, evading death many more times than we could count.

And all that uncertainty and determination on the battlefield started with simple training with the wooden knife. A wooden knife.

A knife.

I withdrew my hand from in front of me and with great care I directed it towards the back pocket of my pants, without stopping looking at Eren who had taken advantage while I wandered in my imagination to approach and settle half the distance that separated us. When my hand reached the pocket, I stuck my thumb and forefinger inside it, grasping a small doctor's knife which I apparently had unconsciously put away in the morning when I finished treating my last patient. I secured it tightly and kept my hand behind my back until Eren again took a big step towards me and, in a protective movement, I positioned the knife in attack mode, eye level, as if was a real fight knife.

"Well that's not very fair-"

With a clean flick of the wrist the small knife rested on my thumb and forefinger and I tossed it to the side, striking perfectly even on the bark of a tree. It had been nailed cleanly and the sound it generated on impact gave certainty that it would be difficult to get it out of that place. Eren never moved from where he was, he simply followed the movements of my hand and at the moment of impact he inspected the cut on the bark before turning his gaze to me.

“I am unarmed… without weapons, without my movement gear, just my bare hands. But it still wouldn't be a fair fight, would it?"

In the four years that we were officially in the legion, at no point had we taken a day to practice our close combat as we did before. You could say that our fighting days were over on the night of our graduation. Although those days were behind us, I was completely sure he had never stopped training, he would continue to launch those unpredictable movements at any moment, let alone his unnatural power.

"You have your titan powers and each hit that hits you will heal, instead I will continue to bleed and spend days with a black eye and broken bones, if that is the case"

I saw what his fists could do to someone like Armin and what they had done to my neck and nose, if this fight went on longer than it should or turned in a bad movement, my body was going to end much worse than it already was; I was even beginning to think that maybe Eren would go as far as turning into a titan and crushing me once and for all. I had to be careful and hoped luck was on my side to make it out alive a second time.

“Come on, let's finish it once and for all” In position and waiting for the first hit, this is how they taught us and this is how I would be mentally prepared from now on, until the moment of my death, even if it were in a few minutes.

He was the first to cut the distance between us, raising his fist to my face. His knuckles slammed into my arm, propelling it toward the contour of my face by the wave and force of the impact. His other fist tried to hit the pit of my stomach, but I could catch his movement and block him with my other arm, hitting him to no effect with the bone. I raised my left leg to hit him on the ribs, but like me, Eren was faster and dodged just in time, avoiding my foot and moved it to the side. As I touched the ground again, I raised my leg again and this time I managed to hit him on the hip, propelling him forward and hitting his body again, this time with my right knee on his face.

His body didn’t move from where he had fallen to the floor, sensing that my blow hadn’t been strong enough to unbalance him, but to mislead him for a second. His face was thrown back by the impact of my knee and I hit him again in the same way, this time right in the center of the face, right on the septum and the mouth. My hand lunged for his hair, grabbing his already disheveled manbun and pushing his head back, my other hand was about to hit right in the neck area, but before I could even put my fingertips on him, his fingers closed tightly on my wrist and twisted it outward, drawing an uncomfortable groan from my throat.

His other fist managed to make a hook towards my chin causing me to loose the grip on the manbun, my legs were unbalanced and I felt blood spurt into my mouth, and one of his feet rose high enough to hit me in the chest and pull me towards him. back and hitting the head squarely against the hard dirt floor. Eren wasted no time and took a short leap towards my figure and placed his hands on my neck for the third time that day. It was like reliving the restaurant scene, me on the floor and him finding a way to position himself on me and immobilize me.

"God, what about you and your choke kink?" With my throat so battered in such a short time, I could barely speak and what I managed to get out was nothing more than hoarse and breathy moans, as if my voice was breaking little by little.

Both of my hands went straight under his armpits holding them in the shape of a sword and digging the bony ends into his weak skin. His arms loosened, giving me the chance to elbow him on the back of his neck and push him away from my body. I put my hands on the ground and got back to my feet with my arms and legs now muddy and dirty, but what was my intention to put myself on guard ended up turning into a new face fall down to the floor, having one of his legs hooked on my knee and making any escape movement impossible. I hit him hard with my free leg on the knee that was hooking me, managing to displace it and perhaps break it on the spot given the creaking sound that echoed through the bark of the trees. With my leg released, I turned around and now that same leg was on his broken knee, applying pressure to the floor, and my other leg took a moment to impact right on his face. His body was now flat on the floor and I positioned myself on top of him without wasting time, pulling his arm back and hitting his ribs with the elbow of my free arm. One, two, three blows, until I felt an impulse bring my body back to the floor as well as a blow on my left cheekbone. I hadn't seen his fist come to my face when he lunged against my body to get me off.

His knee hit me in the pit of my stomach, curling into a fetal position and his fist slammed again into my cheekbone. I tried to scratch his arm the same way I did with his face hours ago, but I failed miserably, as if the pain of the flesh peeling off his skin didn't affect him at all. So I hit his knee with mine, moving him off my stomach, driving him to the ground, and back hitting him on the ribs. Eren lifted his body for a moment to avoid taking any more impacts and gave me enough time to place my legs under his chest and stretch them towards and send him flying against the tree behind him.

Now I could easily stand up, but the pain in my stomach made it difficult for me to breathe and to be able to stand firmly on the ground. I took quick strides towards his body and when my foot was about to hit his face, Eren wiped away a considerably thick branch from the ground and struck my face with the tip, impacting the leaves and small branches on my wounds and throwing me to the ground from the burning. I was in four against a tree, behind me I heard how the dry leaves crunched under Eren's feet and how he was getting up to jump on my back; But this time, I was faster and managed to turn around to hit my leg on his neck for a good time and throw him again towards a crooked tree on our side, hitting his neck against the bark and tearing the skin with friction. From where I was lying I could see blood coming out of his neck, it seems he had torn the jugular area and was bleeding. I could also see the pain on his face and how his body was getting rid of the tension that the fight had caused.

We were both gasping for air, at the moment neither of us could take it anymore and both bodies were asking for a limit, but I knew it was a matter of time before Eren fully recovered and a new fight would take place again. If there was a moment to act, this was perfect. I tried to get up, but my back didn’t give in to my directions and I was thrown back to the floor. My eyes were fixed on the tops of the trees, which let a few rays of the sun slip into our little forest bubble. The sight was almost angelic, if it weren't for the multiple blows that were burning like a bonfire. I saw how some leaves fell slightly accompanied by the wind which had blown again when our fight ended. I felt physical and mental relief as I listened as the smoke rose from Eren's skin, quickly healing his wounds, but still suffering from the bleeding in his neck. My vision began to blur, nothing that was in front of me was seen clearly and I was afraid I was about to faint.

Ahead of me I began to see a familiar sight, quite familiar indeed; the training days, Eren and me in our younger years. I saw us in one of our first confrontations, being completely dirty from the sandy earth but still standing on our two feet, our eyes like daggers about to be thrown at our opponent. Each one prepared to deliver what seemed like the last blow and define the confrontation before ending the day and heading off to the canteen for dinner, ready to define our fifth confrontation with hatred for the other in the veins. Eren, as not, was the first to approach and to be dodged by a young me and give him a poor punch in the face. He complained about the impact, backing off for the next instant to pounce on my shoulder and hook me on the knee to finally throw me sideways to the ground for the fourth time in that three-hour workout. I groaned in pain and grabbed onto my shoulder, injured and battered from so many blows. I stretched out on the floor, in the same way that presumably I was now and I stared at the orange sky, observing how little by little the sun was setting on the horizon and fine dark blue lines welcomed the night.

"Ha, how many times have I beat you today?" his voice and breathing were ragged but still I could tell the false vanity and self-centeredness in his words. He had hunched over his knees resting his tangled hands on them and brought his face closer to mine, covering my beautiful sight and replacing it with his horrible green eyes. I fixed my gaze on his damn crooked smile, the same one he gave to any asshole he had the guts to challenge and finish. I closed my eyes to avoid looking at him and in less than a second I moved my leg over his, hitting his balance and causing him to fall headlong to the floor, hitting the side of his temple. The blow echoed across the ground, earning laughter from some of our friends and whispers around us. I didn't stop to listen to what stupid people might be saying about what had just happened, but stood up heavily, still having a semi air of victory over my body, I wiped my hands on my pants, which deserved a full-fledged clean, and I ducked down to his figure on the floor.

"Not so bad for a country one, huh?" and with that I turned and walked towards the canteen, hoping to be in time before Sasha ate my slice of bread like most nights.

Back at my self lying on the muddy, doughy ground, my breathing come back to normal before my vision returned to having the leaves of the trees in sharp focus. I felt a great heaviness on my body and at the same time I felt like a feather, as if I was experiencing an out-of-body episode ... or was simply rambling. I got up in the same way as in that wonderful memory which for some strange reason happened to appear in my consciousness, and I leaned back on a tree before compiling myself and dragging my feet on the leaves.

"That’s it, I’m done" To be honest, I couldn’t do this anymore. To be honest, I wanted to disappear from the face of the earth and reincarnate in another life, many years in the future. To be honest, my sanity couldn't keep fighting anymore, but I was too cowardly to take my own life. I was tired, not only tired of fighting, but tired of this damn world that the only thing that achieved was to put us in a circle of hatred and anger between each other.

I took a few more steps towards some side of the forest, knowing that I had no idea where I was going, if it was the same side I came from or another completely different, heading right towards the hands of the Jaegeristas. Likewise, if they caught me, they would take me to the others. Would it have been worth it to have escaped from the beginning? Surely not, but I was praying with my few walking neurons that I had managed to take a little time out of them.

"I can still going"

I heard him say a few meters behind me. I could still hear the smoke coming from his veins, this time with much more vigor, a sign that he was about to heal completely. Damn bastard, he'd perfected his healing technique over the years and it didn't take more than five minutes to heal all of his wounds.

"Well I can't!" I screamed reluctantly, as if I was trying to convince myself to give me a break, even if that break meant losing the battle against a terrorist group.

My feet kept moving over the leaves until they hit a fallen tree branch and half caught up with it, causing me to lose my balance and fall sideways onto the bark of the same tree. I instinctively placed my hand and with the fall, the hand didn’t stay sufficiently attached to the surface and drifted to the side, scratching my skin and exposing the raw flesh. I rested my healthiest shoulder on the surface and held my hand. The blood came out slowly, in time with the rapid pumping of my heart, the palm was throbbing and I felt that throbbing not only in that area but also in my ears and in my chest. I blew on the wound to remove the small traces of dirt and grime on the flesh.

"I'm tired of continue fighting, I'm tired of fighting with you and I'm tired of this world, I'm going home"

"What home?" ok, of all the things Eren could have said right now, or all the things he said to me over the past few weeks, this was the one that had hurt the most, the one that had touched my heart the most.

The image of my mother being killed in front of me by a bullet in the head at the age of ten, the image of my father or what was left of him returning to my village after years in training, the image of my family's house destroyed and split in half, while parts of the steps were burned and made charcoal. The image of a cabin in the middle of a field, far from the city, calm, empty and silent, the one that for a couple of years was my residence and now it was used by the queen herself to give birth to the heir. All those images appeared in my mind without invitation to haunt me in a matter of seconds until I gave my answer.

"To what is left of it" I broke away from the surface of the tree and devoted myself to looking ahead and following the path that at first I was taking.

“Wait” behind me the sound of the smoke had stopped and the only thing I could hear was the rustling of the leaves under Eren, who was getting up and standing on his feet.

I ignored his claim and kept walking, always looking ahead and taking good care of where I stepped, I wasn’t in the mood to rip my other hand or fall back on the one that was already badly hurt.

“I said fucking wait” was the only thing I heard before feeling his hands on mine and my shoulder.

I no longer know how many times my back was hit against a surface, I just knew that at this point it would be full of bruises or most likely my back would be a whole bruise, having all the skin covered in a nice purple or black color. My head suffered the same fate, chunks of bark digging into my scalp and some snagging on my hair. Strands got tangled over small branches halfway out of the trunk and pulled my head that way, putting me in a very uncomfortable position. The hand Eren was holding stretched forward, threatening to stretch it further and dislocate my shoulder in the process, the other hand holding my shoulder tightening more and more against my flesh while holding the bone in an impossible way with his long, slender fingers.

If my heart wasn’t already racing too much, the pulsations went crazy when I felt his hand leave mine calmy and position my arm at my side with great care to move to free a lock of hair from the bark and position it behind my ear. Then he stroked my cheek in the same way he had done so many times before. His thumb wandered over my shallow cuts, pulling out the dried blood that had accumulated, and made circular motions over my badly injured cheekbone, as if he was trying to remove the pain that he himself had caused. I leaned my head to the side trying to prevent him from keep touching me, fixing my gaze on the floor, on his feet, on mine, and I hid my face behind the few strands that were loose.

“Look at me” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, only the silence of the forest gave the opportunity to hear him clearly.

My gaze remained embedded in the grass that surrounded the tree below our feet. His thumb, now positioned on my lower lip, forcefully applied pressure downward on the open flesh, parting my two lips and sticking his finger in just enough to play with the tips of my teeth. His index finger came under my chin and forced me to turn my head in his direction.

“Fuck. Look at me! ” His eyes penetrated mine and for the first time in a long time I could see a small glow reflected in them. But that glow, I guessed, wasn’t good at all. It wasn’t the same kind Eren had when he was fifteen, knowing he had the whole world ahead of him and he could be of use to humanity, but instead was the same kind he had before annihilating with extreme anger his opponent.

We stare at each other, his face getting closer to mine. I could feel his breath on my skin and his thumb was still playing with my teeth. The hand that was holding my shoulder began to caress the skin that was visible outside the shirt, over my neck, also sore and full of scratches.

In an attempt to get him to leave my lip alone, I bit down on the tip of his thumb, not hard enough to rip off a piece of meat, but hard enough to make him fucking pull his finger out of my mouth. He waved his hand trying to ease the pain and grabbed my other cheek, stretched it out, pinched it and left a red mark on the area, burning me for a few seconds.

"I missed you back in Liberio" He grabbed a lock of my neck and twisted it between his fingers, playing for a moment and pulling the roots so that my head leaned forward.

The fingers on the skin of my neck continued it’s movements, sometimes going towards the back of my neck, scratching the beginning of the root and pulling a few strands. The caresses were soft, like the massage of a feather, it gave me chills up my spine at the same time that I was having trouble breathing with each step of his fingertips on the bone of my neck. He stopped playing with my lock and cupped one of my cheeks in the palm of his hand, his skin cold compared to mine, warm from adrenaline. It was a somewhat invasive sensation, but at the same time, comforting and uncertain. His thumb again made circular motions over the wounded skin but this time avoiding the scratch marks.

"I missed the warmth of your cheeks and the shapes of your hands" His face moved closer to my neck, his nose brushing against the bruised skin and his breath tickling the tender spots between my neck and collarbone. His breathing made me shudder from head to toe, as if lightning had struck my body.

"Eren" it was pathetic to see how with a simple touch, my body responded so submissively.

I was trembling and not from the wind that blew from time to time over us, but from the multiple caresses on my neck; my cheek being forgotten and now the waist was being the focus point, his lips playing with my mental stability as he delicately rested on me neck, but not enough to lean on and kiss it. My brain was telling me everything was wrong, that I shouldn't be doing this, but my body asked for more, asking for a break, relax and let go. My innermost desires were screaming, begging, to be released, imploring me to succumb and break the tension that was obvious to them, but less to me.

What seemed like endless minutes, were limited seconds before I felt Eren's lips on my warm skin, his hand now resting completely on my neck and my waist, drawing me closer to him, at the same time that he imprisoned me against the tree. I was in the middle of two hard walls and unconsciously I didn't feel like moving. His soft lips compared to his hands and his acting from the last year, roamed under my chin and collarbone, making a path up and down, always repeating the same line of kisses that he left behind. The more kisses he implanted, the more aggressive, open and needy they were, all the while getting wetter and leaving a trail of saliva all around. His knee shifted between my legs, separating them and lifting me to sit barely on his leg, my crotch gently placed on his covered flesh and with each movement his leg applied the necessary pressure to begin get pathetic moans out of me.

"Better keep quiet, you don't want others to find out about our whereabouts" he growled through his teeth as he continued attacking my neck. Now I was sure that, not only would I end up with scratches, but also a few hickeys if Eren wasn't careful enough. What would be more embarrassing? They founding us hot and bothered against a tree or the fact that I was getting carried away sexually with the most wanted person in Paradis?

"Fuck, Eren ..." the hand on my waist tightened and I grabbed onto him, pulling me impossibly closer, fusing both bodies, one against the other's chest.

His hand guided my body back and forth, continuing to generate pressure on my core, a sweet agony that built very slowly, too slow for my liking. My legs were starting to feel numb from the bad posture Eren had me in and were shaking as his leg touched a weak spot. His fingers intertwined with my locks, tightening them and pulling my head back, having better access to my neck and being able to run his teeth through the fine skin. Eren always had a damn habit of biting, and biting hard, not to the point of bleeding, but under the circumstances, I doubted he had enough self-control to even mind ripping the skin. When his fangs aggressively bit my collarbone I grunted in discomfort, but even that feeling, the pleasure was much better. It hurt and it felt good.

Another bite, this time reaching the shoulder. His hand left my hair in peace and stretched the shirt, revealing more clearly his work on my neck and how the curve of my shoulder became more visible under the fabric.

My breathing was shaking, my hands resting on his biceps trying to find a point of balance, my nails dug into his jacket and my leg trying to curl over his for fear of falling. When his teeth came into contact with my shoulder again, aiming for the bone, I screamed in pain, pressing my body against his to dissipate the burning of his teeth on the broken skin. He let go of my shirt and squeezed my cheeks, fixing his eyes on mine violently and commanding me to shut up.

"Stay quiet if you don't want me to fuck you raw until you bleed" Before such a comment I was speechless, my neurons could not connect and I was left blank; the only thing in command now was my animalistic desire.

"Make me"

His lips slammed against mine, needy and eager. They were dry, too dry, and every brush against mine hurt, but neither of us cared about having two pairs of chapped and possibly bleeding lips. All we cared about was melting into each other. My hands dug into the hollow of his neck and his bun, which was already disarmed and strands fell on his forehead and sides, some fell right in front of his eyes, tickling my forehead and eyelashes.

I felt his hands descend to the curve of my butt and grab a good chunk of both cheeks before fully holding them. A little pressure and I was already jumping so I could hold on comfortably. Now we could both feel the center of each other, hot, throbbing and twitching. Every move Eren made to hold us together against the tree sent chills through my entire body, his notoriously erect and hard member rose in the right places and my moans were drowned out by his savage lips.

My nails dug into the back of his neck as I felt a stronger and more violent thrust on my sweet spot. I wanted it, needed it, and desired it. I wished this lustful feeling was the only thing I felt, that I would succumb and refuse to feel any other feelings. I wanted to give myself to him and use me if it meant letting go of all the negativity that had accumulated for weeks. I wanted to remove his clothes from him, to feel his sculpted, chunky muscles on the palms of my hand, wanted to feel his chest throbbing and warm on mine, wanted him completely. I pulled the jacket off his shoulders, getting stuck in his arms. Eren dropped me on the floor with a spear and took off his jacket to leave it god knows where.

"Hey! What the fuck- ”He didn't take long to kiss me again, now with his colossal body on top of mine.

I felt small under him, much more submissive, the sensation of his hands prowling the ends of my torso, reaching under the shirt and feeling my skin burning didn’t fix anything to the situation. His fingertips tickled my stomach, making me shudder every time they made their way to my abdomen. His tongue played with mine, distracting me from his deft fingers and his wickedness as he moved towards my chest and began to work on my nipples. He was a teassing bastard. His fingers poked and twisted one of my red, erect pebble. It was torturous to feel like between the puncture and the circular movement he took the time to stretch it and make it harder. With his other hand, he held my hip next to his, keeping it in it’s place as he balanced his hips against my pelvis. My legs opened involuntarily to better feel his member and in an agile movement he positioned himself between them, reconnecting both hips and placing them on both sides and holding him at the waist. With this, neither could escape the grasp of the other and we slowly melted away with each thrust and twist.

His hand came out from under my shirt and he started unbuttoning my shirt, one damn slow button at a time. Having my chest semi-exposed, his lips wandered towards my clavicle, passing the corner of my lips, the cheek, the jaw and the already sensitive neck, causing a groan to come out unexpectedly. His lips on the crook of my neck, his hands on the skin of my abdomen and his crotch on mine, I felt like I was exploding. I didn’t know where to put my hands, they went through his tousled hair, his shoulders, his biceps until they ended up under his shirt, feeling insecurely on the fingertips as touching his marked abs.

Every time I had the opportunity to admire his sturdy and worked body, it never ceased to amaze me how well puberty had done to him. His body able to surround me and cover me against the floor, pressing so that we could both feel the heat emanating from the other. I hadn't been able to tell him when he was in prison, but seeing him hunched over and exposing his torso and back muscles really had a great effect on me, seeing him wet, being able to discern some drops falling from his head onto his neck, was like seeing an oasis and I was a thirsty one, eager to sink my face into its sweet waters. I had been deprived of touching them at the time, but now that I was doing it, it wasn’t enough, I needed to see them with my own eyes as my fingers ran over them, while I ran my nails and left small marks that would dissipate in seconds. 

The hand back on my chest was the boost I needed to lift his shirt up to his neck. Eren detached himself from me for a few seconds and got rid of the garment in the same way as his jacket, but he didn’t attack my neck like I so much wanted. Instead, his eyes stayed glued to my chest, seeing the work his deft fingers had done on my swollen nipples.

"Fuck" he growled as he ran his eyes over my semi-naked submissive body on the grass.

He bent down to level with his desired pebbles and caressed them with both hands, both giving them equal attention. I let my head fall back, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation, but there was a moment when his fingers weren't enough anymore. I brought my hand up to his head, running my nails over his scalp, and pulled him forward, leaving him inches from my needy nipples. Eren got the hint because he quickly ran his tongue over one of them while the other was still torturing with his thumb and index finger. His mouth closed on the nipple and he sucked like it’s the only thing able to keep him alive, too painful but that didn't matter to me. He left a trail of saliva when he separated from the bundle with a 'pop' and dedicated himself to giving the other the same attention. I groaned at the needed action, causing his dick to hit my core. I was losing his mind, it was too much and at the same time, it wasn’t enough. I needed to continue, I wanted it with every fiber of my being. My nails had nothing better to do than run down his back and my legs wedged closer to his waist. I felt his dick throb and couldn't help thinking of the veins that ran through it, ending on his pretty and red head, he pre-sum that was surely coming out and wetting his pants, I couldn't help but wish to had him inside me and feel those same veins brush my velvet walls and go crazy with each thrust.

As my thoughts wandered of what was to come, Eren's lips left my nipples and focused back on my neck, this time on the side where my scar was. He left little kisses around the shoulder and around the mark, running up and down the shape, ending a little above the chest. His action was too sweet, too tender compared to his wild and hungry movements. My eyes widened instantly, if his intention was to make me uncomfortable, he had done it. If the intention was to ruin the fervid and hectic moment by reliving the scariest moment of my life, he was damned succeeding. How could I keep my composure when he was kissing the mark I had "earned" by going on a mission to rescue him? How could I stay calm when the memories of an onslaught of titans haunted my mind again, ready to devour me while I was lying on the ground with my movement equipment displaced and my shoulder immobilized by the bleeding wound? The memory of a stone flying towards my face, dodging it at the last moment and ending up hitting my shoulder bone, dislocating it, tearing the skin and flesh and noticing how the blood spurted out, soaking my shirt and jacket. My breathing started to hit, and not in the good way, and apparently Eren wasn’t realizing or hadn't taken it the wrong way.

It was like a bucket of cold water in pure winter. My mind suddenly cleared and every trace of heat my body ever had dissipated, leaving only a cold, stiff container.

"Wait, wait...no, no, this is bad" I put my hands on his shoulders and jerked him off.

"Why?" His eyes didn’t deign to inspect mine. Any normal person in their right mind, just by looking at my pale face could deduct that something was wrong.

"Why? I- You are the number one enemy in the world and of the military police, I would have to give you up and not making up with you right now"

I was babbling as well as shaking. I got up and settled onto my legs, sitting stiffly on the ground. Eren had come to the side before my body crashed against his when I got up and he was looking at me without any expression, as if nothing had happened, as if the only one who had been feeling something, even if it was a minimal sensation of pleasure, it was me, and that made me feel sick.

"I would have to be angry, make you shit on the floor and take you to pieces towards the wall Sina" at any moment I was going to throw up, I knew it. I knew my body perfectly to know that in every moment of tension and panic, my stomach would start to annoy me, to go into spasms and hit me internally. "I shouldn't be doing this with you"

"Is that so bad? Listen to your desires, follow your instincts? " His hands came to rest on my waist and without any permission from me, he placed me on his lap, both of us being face to face, chest to chest.

His words entered my ears and stayed reverberating in my mind. What to do? I was doing everything wrong, but at the same time they felt so good. I wanted to continue thoroughly, but I knew that morally it was wrong, more than wrong, it was horrible what I was doing, anyone could tell me that. I felt bad about myself, but ... deep inside me, there was a small feeling that was getting bigger and bigger and wanted, screamed, to be released. I was so indecisive and overwhelmed that all I could do was cry.

Pathetic. I was really pathetic.

I lowered my head on his shoulder, keeping the tears from being visible to this callous shit. His hands on my waist didn't feel at all comforting as he began to move his thumb in a circular motion. My hands formed into fists and I hit his shoulders repeatedly, each hit receiving a kiss on the head. My energies were exhausted at the very begining and I rested my fists on my waist, my head now barely suspended in front of him, not looking at him.

"I hate you" he kissed my shoulder.

"I know" another kiss, this time on the other shoulder, on my scar.

"I fucking hate you" my knuckles turned white from how hard I was clenching my fists.

"I know" he kissed a tear that had escaped my lashes and was running freely down my cheek.

"You're a piece of shit"

I opened my eyes to find a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes, bright and full of life. Eren placed his hand on my cheek, running his thumb every time a tear fell down it. He leaned down and captured my lips with his sweetly, the tears falling and falling, faster and faster and more forming in my closed eyes. The kiss had a salty taste, my heart was about to leave my chest and when Eren broke away I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to take it anymore.

"…I know"

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[aks3raao1]

Me, to Luja: So tell me about yourself

Luja: No

Me: ...ma'am I need to write the story—

Luja: Good luck <3

[now that I do think of it, ALTERNATIVE's main duo that's established right at the beginning is literally a chiller but edgier Katsuki and way worse sUrViVe Nagito genderbends]

~~~~~~

Luja Sen, she/her

Anyways, Luja and Romila are friends from middle school (the story starts with the beginning of their high school at AoS (Academy of the Specialised) which was essentially founded by Nyx). Luja gains her Specialisation (Ferrokinesis: The Ability to bend metal) at the age of twelve, so she has it for a lesser time period than Romila.

Luja primarily wants to become a scientist. Her family is happy with that, because it's praised and everything, especially in our society.

She has a gifted child superiority complex. Being a gifted child + Specialised means that she hardly had many friends in school. Her family had tried to get her to socialize....which didn't go down too well.

She believes that most people are annoying because they waste too much time on useless things like gossiping and what not, which she never showed much interest in and doesn't like to be dragged into those nonsense.

She is friends with Romila since they do share the same taste in stuff and were the only Specialised ones in their class. And they kinda stuck together for most of middle school and went into high school.

She has a problem when it comes to seeing Romila since she tends to see her bad parts and is like, "It's a phase" considering that it's not necessarily affecting her. Romila doesn't get too cranky with her since she fascinates her, with her passion™ for science. Also because she isn't all self sacrifice UwU.

Luja cares for her own self above others (but tends to put Romila pretty close to that hierarchy, which is why she's one of the only two Romila trusts during the Mansion of Death (the other person is Kratanos)) however she also does want to keep what friends she has and is generally caring towards them.

She has a genuine love for science and loves to discover how things work and why, and her favourite facet is Physics. She does want to invent things and honestly just make stuff easier for the Specialised who face a LOT of issues, especially when it comes to amenities since the government is an ass about accomodations and they gained the Fundamental Rights like ten years or so ago in the ALTERNATIVE timeline. And they gain an additional right ("The body won't be harmed for science") when they graduate from school, after signing a contract that they dedicate themselves to helping the government when called upon. (The whole contract is stupid and basically oppresses them more especially the punishment for not abiding by it).

With her goal of becoming a scientist, she wants to use her talents to make accomodations specifically for them so that she could have done something.

The things she fears the most is failure. Failing as in being unable to accomplish her goals. She is afraid of it because it's an unknown variable that's constantly haunted her and she's working hard for it to never reach her.

I suppose there's a way for her to confront that fear during the Mid terms at AoS where she essentially "loses" in the practicals due to her......teamwork issues.

Everyone thinks of her as stuck up and isn't interested to listen to her much and since she views the others as annoying people with annoying habits, she tends to fail to regulate them, causing Romila to win instead (yes, it's THAT unfortunate of a situation) in their match, which causes her to review a LOT of things and she tries to see what caused her to lose after having a severe breakdown.

She develops an inferiority complex in respect to Romila and then spends a long time wondering where she went wrong.

Rena (who somehow clung to her) tries to cheer her up but gets turned back halfway, but she still stays on and Luja is like, "Wtf" until she sees Romila going entirely off the deep end (she presents an interesting contrast to how Koldin sees Romila as well, she sees Romila's behavior and considers it as a justification for her own self....she uses Romila to justify herself a lot (since if you asked Romila, Luja was more or less fine according to her since she wasn't being a doormat and stood up for herself) while Koldin sees Romila as the reason he should cling onto his own stuff) and realises that she could be on the path to destruction herself and accepts Rena's help and tries to be more open to others which leads to the Mid terms parallels in the Archenemy of Society arc where she "succeeds" instead and manages to get the class together enough to escape the situation.

However it doesn't mean that her fear of failure has entirely vanished into the blue, she just reviews the ways she can fail better now and works around it to avoid it and has more confidence in her own self. But she is still scared of failing and would love to avoid that more than anything. However she's chiller after that.

Her intelligence is more or less on par with both Romila and Kratanos, making them the three main strategists in the final battle against the bigots (which is basically a rerun of the Mansion of Death situation but way way worse and fucked up and has different leads to it).

....

The thing is that, no matter what I do, she winds up feeling like one dimensional/repetitive, which is something I am trying to amend about all the characters (I mean, I had to revamp a lot of characters so it will probably take me a long long time to actually get to writing.........sigh besides she stands up like a cardboard amongst people (I mean, you have Romila and Kratanos with extremely complicated storylines and then you have her. Just there))

So the main question is how to make her more interesting as a character and on par with the rest while still keeping her character flaws and personality?

I think the easiest way to go abt this is to view her as a sassy Bakugo. They have the main points in common. They're salty, don't like to socialise, feel inferior to a certain someone while still having some semblance of confidence and a terrible fear of failure

Now as much as I hate to compare your character to another one, it makes it a lot easier to have them become - as my English teacher would say - more. So I am sorry if this comes off as offensive-

For Bakugo, he became interesting by playing a big part in the mc's main story and we do get a few scenes where his vulnerability is shown. I assume it's the same with your character but...what rlly ties the knot for me when it comes to Katsuki is the fact that his problems...are more than just an inferiority/superiority complex. His whole thing stems from background especially (*cough* abusive mom *cough*) and the fact that he's not the main character (or rather that the story isn't being told in his perspective).

These facts make us over think and want more of him. The mystery draws us in which is why I think Luja's character is so perfect for someone in the background. She doesn't like to reveal things abt herself and is pretty dismissive to most things on top of that (plainly just salty). Her character rlly draws you in and the best way to portray those kinds of characters is through another character. Ofc, you'd have to get to their POV eventually but it's important to note that most of the details should come from someone else's POV (an observer, if you will) instead of info dumping and starting straight with hers. A character that's mysterious with a very simple yet relatable story attracts a LOT more attention and interest when seen from someone else's perspective than when you kickstart it from theirs.

Ofc, if u are planning (or already have) started the story from her POV, that would be a bit problematic in terms of interest. But not a train wreck. This is where my other point comes in. The point of making a character have more than one problem

Different ppl as well as characters have a main problem but also different ones, no matter what way you look at it. It seems that even you are confused with all ur character's ins and outs (dw, we've all been there... I am still there tbh) and a solution to that is backtracking a bit and looking at their life from the very beginning in HEAVY detail (like more than u already did). Think abt what other trauma could have been caused, what doubts and fears could have slowly crept it's way to her heart and head (I am a sucker for long-lasting doubts that develop over time) and anything you can even so much as GRASP on. If you look at it and see it as a possibility, try to fit that into her character and add it subtly in different places (as subtext or a creative pattern, wordplay, doesn't rlly matter as long as it's not openly stated bc, remember, the key thing to these types of characters is mystery).

For example, a fear of failure can stem into anxiety before the character has even lost smth later in their life. They probably get rlly anxious when evaluating smth but don't show it much or at all so no one notices. This adds even MORE to the character bc you can build it up after other events. Like once they have failed, they could probably get even more anxious and then develop a bad relationship with the person who beat them (double the points if it was a friend). You could build all that up and turn it super toxic instead of jumping right to the healing. It makes it more interesting, doesn't it? Plus, reevaluating almost everything including world views after 1 loss is...kind of hard to believe even with anxiety (no offense)

Adding a lot of little problems and thinking abt how Luja's behaviour can impact other characters helps a terrible lot if ur doing most of the story from her POV. Especially since she's probably the most relatable character (from what I've heard anyway). I have a certain saying... it goes like, "It's better to have a relatable and connecting character than one with a problem that is too big for normal people to fathom."

I like characters with heart-wrenching problems that I would never be able to relate to (take maybe Shigaraki as an example ig?) But my favourite are the ones that make me feel as tho I made a real connection

Also, I would like to say...if ur looking to progress her character even further, I would debate on whether it's the complete end to the novel or if there'll be a second part. If it's a second part, keep some of Luja's issues. Make her get better but not completely "YAY, I AM DONE BEING TORMENTED". If it's the end of the novel/series/etc., make it so that she's resolved most of most of her issues. They don't have to be completely gone but they have to be a lot better compared to how they started. And how i would work that out is a mind map but knowing ur a scatterbrain...lets talk it out where everything is all over the place

Luja's main thing is to gain confidence in herself and be finally ok with losing, right? If you ask me, that's a tough one but not impossible. I think to get her from point A to point B is to put up a bunch of events like:

Get her super anxious when doing smth

Lose to *insert person*

Have a breakdown and over think on what she could have done better (on the project or whatever she lost at)

Get even more anxious and totally mess up the next thing

Lose once again (double points if it's the same person as last time)

Overthinking abt how she's not good enough

F i g h t i n g f r i e n d s c o z d r a m a

"YoU'rE nEvEr GoNnA gEt BeTtEr If YoU kEeP tHiNkInG aBoUt YoUrSeLf"

Over think abt no. 8 bc out of options and ideas and ✨a n x i e t y✨

Try listening to others more and become b e t t e r

Win smth (bc creator forbid 3 losses in a row to start depression)

Lose again (there is gonna be a bit of back and forth but is necessary for development)

"I tHoUgHt I wAs FiNaLlY dOiNg SoMeThInG rIgHt AnD nOw LoOk"

"Losing is not th3 3nd of th3 fucking world, you lunatic"

"WELL, IT IS TO ME, BITCH"

*insert psychology somehow idk*

Another loss

"I'm angry...but I'm ok"

Note that idk where bullying would come in and these are only how I would think it to go-

A character like this isn't rlly my strong suit when it comes to them resolving their problems but they are fun to write and think abt-

................................did I just give you advice on how to traumatize? I-

[highandclassy28]

You said you’re done with me. Never care to see me again. Don’t love me. I’m scum. Oh & you’ve been with the ones you broke our monog... but see I know you well enough to know why you’re doing this. Self sabotage and feeling guilt. Because we started therapy to work towards what we want[ed?] a future together where you’ll accept the love I give & not try to break me because you don’t feel enough. You said you’d try to hurt me and yes you have prevailed. But while she’s laying in our bed in my spot I have no doubt.. our pup gets confused because her mom is not around. I have been unable to progress past a kiss upon the mouth of a man who’s been patient, kind, & stuck around. Because I’m so heart broken & in love with YOU the man who’s thrown me out (again & again when will it end?) I don’t want to lose you, I never f*cking did.... you’re the one that bolts leaves me sick upon the floor. I swear I’m always the one hurting, trying to do more. I gave so many opportunities, maybe more than I should. You broke our agreement in monog, poly, & monog again. So what’s a girl to do...? I tried still giving you a chance, but once therapy pulls up the trauma of your past.. once again you block me, shut me out, & self destruct “back on my old shit!” With a bottle in your palms & a low caliber woman who validates to you that you’re nothing more than a “fuck boy” & “dick to ride” instead of building forward with me whom you called your “wife”.... you gave a promise, a dog, a necklace, your life ..... said you’d marry me, even one day wanted my babies... but now you come for my throat at any price. You use all the weapons I didn’t know I’d supplied. “I’ll call the cops” “you can’t see the dog” “I’ll tow your car” “you’re trash” “f*cking bitch” “everyone was always right about you” But what really sucks is that through all of this pain....... I still make excuses for you within my brain. Because I know why you’re hurting & what game you play. You want to make me not love you, so I can heal my pain. It’s not that you don’t still love me, you just don’t feel like you can give me what you need. & since I wouldn’t leave you or give up on the dream you felt forced to hurt me & for you to cut the string. But honestly you can NOT stop my love for you. I said forever & I meant it. It’s true. So no matter what you say... no matter what you do... I’ll always want you healed, happy, & renewed.. the part that really hurts is that it might not be for you... might not be with me & instead you’ll do for someone new. That I was never enough... never what you wanted. Just the easiest bitch that would stay through all the trauma. I want you healed & happy I swear to you it’s true but my heart would break in pieces if you gave that to someone new. I want to be your wife, the mother to our dog & (maybe) kids, I want to build a life & travel as we live. I thought even after you broke it so many times... that I could trust you to still want me in your life. Now I’m stressed, worried, & physically ill because I can’t know how every day makes you feel. & soon you’ll be gone to start a big career... & part of me is scared... you’ll keep those old habits that initially broke our trust.. you know which I mean.. when you’re in the power & consumed by women, drugs, & greed. & if I haven’t acted... not for myself, HER, or who could be... am I responsible too for not protecting them indeed? It was an “accident” “mistake” “misunderstanding” or so I thought for me... but could it have been for her too? Will there be more to follow? If so idk what to do... it wouldn’t be my actions but i think it’d be my fault. Could I love you too much that I protected you from fault? I don’t wanna hurt you, your livelihood, your heart... I know where your heads been & the loss of your life would tear me right apart. I couldn’t deal with it... you said yourself you thought I’d follow.... I don’t want to lose you even more than what’s followed... The point is that I love you. That’s something you cannot change. Even though I’m aching&filled with so much pain.

[turningwheeltarot]

Healing anxiety has been an ongoing journey for me. I have learned a lot and come a long way over the years. I want to share some of the most important spiritual lessons that I have learned so far in hopes that it may help others who struggle with anxiety. I am not a medical professional and this is not meant to be a substitute for psychiatric advice or treatment. This is simply meant to be a sharing of what I have found to be effective for me. I approach this topic from a spiritual perspective as this is where my experience has been.

The Importance of a Daily Spiritual Practice

In order to heal anxiety, I believe a daily, committed spiritual practice of some kind is necessary. “Spiritual” can be substituted with other terms, such as “meditation” or “mindfulness” practice, if they resonate more with you. Committing to beginning each day with meditation and prayer has helped me to develop a strong inner foundation to root myself in. Before I made this commitment, I was like a house without a foundation at the mercy of whatever was going on around me.

A Course in Miracles is what I would consider to be my spiritual “home base.” The Course focuses primarily on thought. It is all about learning to undo a thought system based on fear -- which dominates this world -- and accept a thought system based on love instead. Anxiety is just one of the many ways the fear-based thinking of the world shows up. The Course states that its goal is the attainment of inner peace, and that this comes about only through changing our thinking: learning to choose the thoughts of love instead of the thoughts of fear. This is freedom from anxiety. 

According to the Course, the root cause of suffering lies in the mind; we change the world we see by changing our minds about the world we see. This inward shift is made by surrendering fear-based thoughts to the Holy Spirit (or your Higher Self, the Universe, Source, etc.) and simply being willing to perceive differently. The Course assures that our willingness is all that’s required for healing to take place.

If you don’t already have a spiritual practice, I strongly encourage you to find one that resonates with you. A Course in Miracles is just one of endless options. Set the intention to find the right one for you and explore, and the right one will present itself. Some may already have a spiritual practice, but need to commit to making it a daily priority. Our egos try to convince us that we “don’t have the time,” but I promise that even just a few minutes a day will make a remarkable difference in your life.

Surrendering, Allowing, and Trusting

My journey with healing anxiety has revolved around learning how to surrender, allow, and trust in Spirit. When worry arises, I do my best to consciously surrender the anxious thought to Spirit as soon as possible. I find it helpful to visualize literally handing the worry up and into the hands of Spirit. I often envision the beautiful and serene Ace of Cups tarot card when I do this. Prayer is also a big part of my process. A simple but powerful prayer (inspired by A Course in Miracles) that I often say is: “Holy Spirit, I place this fear about (fill-in-the-blank) in your hands. Please take this from me. I am willing to see this differently.” 

After surrendering, I focus on allowing the feelings that arise and breathing through them. With every exhale, I imagine myself continuously releasing whatever my fear is to Spirit. When I allow myself to feel my feelings, they are able to move through me. When I push them away, they become stuck within me. I am learning the art of not fighting difficult feelings like anxiousness, while also not dwelling on negative thoughts. I am learning how to be with discomfort and allow it to pass through me. And perhaps most importantly, I am learning how to trust. 

My ongoing focus is on building and maintaining trust in Spirit. Trust is something that needs to be practiced. It’s not uncommon that I need to continually re-surrender, re-allow, and re-trust about the same issue. And that’s ok. Through committed practice, I am reprogramming my mind so that my first instinct is to trust rather than to fear. And the more I practice, the easier and more automatic it becomes.

The more intense and overwhelming the fear, the more intense the focus needs to be on surrendering, allowing, and trusting. When experiencing intense anxiety, try to get into surrender mode as fast as you can. Surrender the fear to Spirit and ask that it be taken from you. Get as quiet as possible and allow the fear to be there. Be with it to the best of your ability. Focus on breathing through it. Trust that it will pass and that clarity is coming. If you feel unable to practice this in times of intense anxiety, that’s ok. The more you make a habit of practicing this process with smaller issues, the easier it will become to practice when big ones come up.

I have realized that much of what causes anxiety within me is a deep inner resistance to what is: resistance to the present moment, resistance to my current circumstance, resistance to how I’m feeling, resistance to the anxiety itself (me telling myself I “shouldn’t” be feeling this way), and the belief that I need to be in control of everything -- which is resistance to life itself. I believe this is true of many people who suffer with anxiety.

I am amazed by the learning and healing that’s occurred as a result of my simple willingness to be made aware of resistance and let go of it. Ever since I set this specific intention, it’s been like peeling an onion. Deeper layers of resistance that I wasn’t previously aware of continue revealing themselves to me to be released.

“Forgive yourself for not being at peace. The moment you completely accept your non-peace, your non-peace is transmuted into peace. Anything you accept fully will get you there, will take you into peace. This is the miracle of surrender.” -- Eckhart Tolle

Disidentifying from and Disciplining the Mind 

The root of anxiety is in the mind. One anxious thought is where it all begins. But the mind is not where the solution can be found. When I rely on my mind to “figure it all out,” it only leads to more anxiety. When I rely on the higher power that is within me, I find myself guided out of anxiety. I believe this is the deeper meaning of the Proverbs 3:5 Bible verse: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.” 

The mind is a useful tool that is meant to be used in service to Higher Consciousness. It is not meant to run the show. Mistaking myself for my thoughts and letting my thinking mind take the wheel is a sure way to get lost in an anxiety spiral. Mind-identification is anxiety. Learning to discipline my mind and let go of my identification with my thoughts has been a major part of my healing journey. 

In order to be freed from anxiety and live a more conscious and peaceful life, it is necessary to practice observing thoughts and letting them go. In order to do this, identification with thought needs to be released too. You are not your thoughts. When you practice observing your thoughts instead of getting lost in them, you get in touch with who you really are at the deepest level -- the awareness behind your thoughts. The Observer. Then you are able to create space between your true Self and your thoughts, rather than becoming totally identified with them. So when anxious thoughts arise, it won’t be as easy for them to possess you.

Anxiety usually stems from fixating on the future or past. The present moment is all that’s real and is the only place where peace can be found. Zen Buddhist monk Shunryu Suzuki said, “Let thoughts come and go. Just don't serve them tea.” Letting thoughts come and go while continuously bringing my awareness back to the present moment allows me to slow down enough to recognize fearful thoughts when they arise -- which is half the battle. And it’s worth reiterating: daily meditation has been absolutely essential for me to develop and maintain the inner groundwork required to practice this.

Conscious breathing and redirecting my awareness from my mind to my body are some methods that help me let my thoughts go and return to the present. These methods also help me to process my feelings, including anxiety. Next time you feel anxious, explore where the feeling of anxiousness lives within your body. Feel into it. Breathe into it. Be with it. You may find the feeling dissolves surprisingly fast. You may also find that what the feeling dissolves into is peace. 

Watching my words is another important mind-discipline practice. Words -- which stem from thoughts -- are powerful. They create our reality. I have realized that if I want to create a reality where I am free from anxiety, I need to stop identifying with anxiety as a part of who I am, allowing it to have power over me. That means I need to stop referring to myself as an “anxious person.” I need to stop saying things like “my anxiety.” I need to believe that I can be free from anxiety. And I need to replace negative, destructive self-talk with positive, healing self-talk. Mantras and positive affirmations can be extremely helpful and effective.

Self-Care

This is an ongoing healing process and it is so important to be kind, gentle, and patient with yourself along the way. Learning how to practice self-care, self-acceptance, and self-love is also a process. I am still learning what it means to love and accept myself. 

How am I feeling right now? What do I need right now? How can I take care of myself right now? I try to check in by asking myself questions like this regularly. I am learning to honor feelings of overwhelm and worry as signals to stop, turn within, and practice self-care.

I spent much of my life terrified of my own fear. I believe this is true of many who struggle with anxiety. We fear that our fear is too big for us to handle. But the truth is that we are bigger than our fear. Much bigger. We are infinite souls having human experiences. I have come to realize that the fear within me is not the big, scary monster I used to believe it was. Rather, it is a scared little child simply in need of love. 

❤️ ❤️ ❤️

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[mbti-notes]

Hi. A young INFJ in need of advice here. Recently, I had to spend most of my time taking care of a sick family member (colon cancer, stage 3, unable to get chemotherapy due to physical weakness. For context, this person used to abuse me emotionally in the past and continued to degrade me as I am taking care of him, as well as refusing to cooperate, so spending a lot of time with them gives a lot of bad vibes. There are a lot of conflicting emotions involved too because 1.) It is a duty (1/?)

[con’t: They weren't always a horrible person, so to just let go of them to preserve my own well-being is extremely unfair. The whole situation itself is also something new. I am forced by it to be more physically assertive, present and attentive to everything around me than usual, and I am constantly interrupt whenever I got free time. Although I am able to handle the task, I find myself extremely exhausted at the end of the day. I lose enthusiasm to continue the project I planned before everything happened, and opted to pass the little free time I have left on food/video games instead (then feel guilty afterwards for not being productive enough). I tried to help myself by reaching out to people close to me for emotional support, but after I see that others have a problem of their own I really don't want to burden them with mine. Also, some of the attempts to reach out was dismissed or with the conversation turned around so they (my conversation partners) can vent about their problems to me instead. All this causes me to feel a growing resentment to everything. I caught myself alternating between feelings of emptiness, like being stuck in a loop (not MBTI loop, although that might well be the case too), and creeping dark thoughts more often. I don't want it to become unhealthy and destructive, as I have a history of depression and IED. I know that my immaturity is part of the problem, but my mind gets so foggy that everytime I thought I found a way out, I ended up being more lost. What should I do? I would truly appreciate an unbiased advice from you. Please.]

First, you say that you have a “duty” to care for this person. However, remember that many people walk away from their duties, sometimes without remorse. You have the option to walk away, so the fact that you’ve accepted your duty, to care for someone you would rather not have to care for, is already a big moral achievement.

Second, the fact is that caring for a person with a serious chronic illness is extremely stressful, especially if you aren’t properly trained for it. The problem isn’t your “immaturity”, as you put it. A lot of people can't handle this kind of job, so they hire a professional nurse, and keep themselves distanced from the emotional pain. It’s important to be honest with yourself - nobody should ever be blamed or shamed for admitting that they can’t handle a situation and need an alternative solution. Feeling very stressed is a normal reaction to a very stressful situation. When you are stressed, you have to practice good stress management skills to maintain your psychological well-being. It seems that you are having difficulty with this. 

When you work hard, you deserve a break, don’t you? When you feel bad, you deserve to be heard and comforted, don’t you? When you need time to yourself, you should take it, otherwise, you will run yourself into the ground and be incapable of anything. Do you believe that YOU are worthy of love and care? It seems that you have a tendency to downplay or devalue your own needs - this is a bad habit that will render you unable to have healthy and equal relationships. The more that you deny yourself, your needs, and your own well-being, the more unhealthy Fe gets, the more likely you are to fall into Ti loop dark thoughts and then Se grip out-of-control behavior. It is in everyone's best interests, especially yours, to exercise better self-care in the face of intense stress. If you can’t love yourself, your way of loving others will become self-destructive. Loving yourself means creating space to heal whenever needed.

Third, having to be around someone that treats you badly is a big source of stress all on its own. You have actually behaved remarkably MATURELY in trying to set aside the past to perform your duty. To be honest, I don’t think I could do it. There isn't something wrong with you when you are negatively affected by abuse - it is normal and healthy to want to reject abuse. Rather, there is something wrong with the person who is being mean and abusive. Do not blame yourself for someone else's immoral behavior - this is a bad habit that makes you into a doormat and too accepting of abuse. Learn to draw stricter emotional boundaries, which means understanding what is and isn't your responsibility to bear. You can choose to care for this person’s physical health, but it isn't your job to also be the parent, the nanny, the therapist, the punching bag, the saint, and the martyr. Maintain emotional distance and protect yourself from anyone that would only use your kindness as a way to attack and harm you. Do what is physically required of you and nothing more. Make sure that you have a life of your own, a good social support system, and a place to go for receiving care, kindness, and validation.

[callanthea]

MDZS Character Tarot Analysis - Part 2

Given my love for the Tarot archetypes, I noticed that the main cast of Mo Dao Zu Shi actually fits these major arcana readings extremely well! I therefore decided to compile all my interpretations of who fits what, including my reasonings.

Part 1 (Arcana 0 to XI) can be found here: https://callanthea.tumblr.com/post/177844446959/

I promised a follow-up post, so this has the remaining Arcana XII to XXI. Again, these are of course my entirely subjective opinions!! I mostly focused on the upright meanings of each arcana, but I gave special preference to character arcs that included both reverse and upright characteristics. There may be some slight spoilers here and there. 

————

XII.                Hanged Man: Wen Qing

Suspension, restriction, letting go, sacrifice, surrender, meditation on breaking old patterns/habits, buying time, feeling stuck, vulnerabilities, reversal of perspective, new priorities, selflessness, giving up personal needs for greater good, devotion to bigger cause

(Reversed: martyrdom, indecision, delay, getting nothing in return for sacrifice, unwilling to sacrifice)

Reasoning: In what appeared to be their darkest hour, Wen Qing willingly surrendered everything to save Wei Wuxian and the rest of the innocents of her clan. Unfortunately, the Jin clan continued pursuing Wei Wuxian’s group of Wen clan survivors—her sacrifice seemed to be meaningless, her former pride and beauty and ability all reduced to ash for nothing. Still, even now, the best part of the Wen clan survives. As the martyred Hanged Man, Wen Qing’s words and legacy live on: “I’m sorry. And… thank you.”

Runner-ups: as I’m sure you are all aware, our boy Wei Wuxian gave up so much to do the right thing ;__;

XIII.             Death: Mo Xuanyu/Wei Wuxian

Endings, beginnings, change, transformation, transition, purification, rebirth, closing one door to open another, putting past behind you, embracing new opportunities, letting go of past, breaking old bad habits.

(Reversed: resistance to change, carrying harmful aspects from past, unable to move on)

Reasoning: Oh boy oh boy. If we had to pick a single major arcana to sum up the entire MDZS novel, it would of course be the arcana of Death. Death isn’t scary—it’s an ending, sure, but it’s also a new beginning. Of course it is a painful process, and it’s all too easy to get trapped in those past memories. But Death is ultimately a chance to put the past behind you, to break old habits, to let go of old and bitter burdens. Closing one door to open another, starting a story anew, just like how Mo Xuanyu’s death enabled Wei Wuxian’s rebirth.

XIV.           Temperance: Lan Xichen

Balance, moderation, patience, purpose, meaning, calm, tranquil, taking time, peace, making right choices, adaption, coordination, harmony with others, cooperation, synergy, timing and precision, self-evaluation and new directions

(Reversed: imbalance, stress/tension, excess, conflict/competition, lack of long-term vision)

Reasoning: Ahh, the most chill guy in MDZS~ Lan Xichen very much exemplifies the Temperance Arcana’s focus on patience, calm, peace, and mediation. He brings out the best aspects of those he works with. I specifically chose him for his role in the Three Sworn Brothers dynamic, where Lan Xichen is 100% the balancing and moderating power between Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao. At the same time, Lan Xichen wasn’t perfectly successful. Like in Reversed Temperance, Lan Xichen quelled the short-term disputes but could not prevent long-term conflict from finally erupting.

 XV.           Devil: Jin Guangshan or Wen Chao

Desire, bondage/chains/restriction, addiction, fear, sexuality, materialism, negative lower tendencies, harmful impulses, deception and illusion, feeling despair because of lack of control, obsession, greed, trapped

(Reversed: detachment, breaking free, power reclaimed, detachment)

Reasoning: The two straight-up scumbag characters in MDZS lol. Both Jin Guangshan and Wen Chao act according to their own harmful whims and impulses. And their ultimate fates are also perfectly ironic for the Devil Arcana: Jin Guangshan died from being trapped in the lust he had always indulged in, and Wei Wuxian mutilated Wen Chao into the base animal he always was.

Runner-ups: Jin Guangyao matches the “illusion of lacking control” and the deception aspects. Xue Yang very much works off the low instinct of “revenge”, and he is chained by his own obsessions.

 XVI.              Tower: Xue Yang

Disaster, upheaval, sudden change, revelation, momentary glimpse of truth, destruction of ignorance and false reasoning, turmoil, misfortune, upsetting all old beliefs, shattering illusions and false foundations, insecurity, shaking your very core, awakening, release from bondage, breaking down your personal defenses, pain and anguish, death of ego

(Reversed: avoiding/delaying the inevitable disaster, clinging to the lie, fear of change, intuition of upcoming calamity)

Reasoning: I’ve literally never met a character who fits the Tower Arcana better than Xue Yang. Come on, even his sword is literally named “Falling Disaster.” The moment he revealed the truth to Xiao Xingchen, I could almost literally see the classic Tower Arcana imagery of “Lightning Destroying the Tower”. That brutal revelation completely shattered the false foundations and illusions of that Yi City daily life. And with that anguished awakening, the fates of every Yi City character were sealed. At the same time, Xue Yang wasn’t solely a harbinger of destruction. Like the Reversed Tower, he too feared the destruction of that ignorance and attempted to conceal Song Lan’s arrival. Even after knowing the peaceful lie was gone, he still clung to its broken pieces.

Runner-up: A-Qing’s intuition enabled her to see the disaster coming, yet she too could not escape the tragedy.

 XVII.           Star: Lan Sizhui

Hope, spirituality, renewal, inspiration, serenity, intuition, faith and truth in the universe, fulfillment, enduring challenges and now healing, letting go of damaging memories, stable, forgive and forget, new opportunities, personal transformation, believing in yourself, generosity, giving back blessings

(Reversal: lack of faith, despair, discouragement, loss of enthusiasm, test of faith)

Reasoning: Lan Sizhui is very much Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji/Wen Ning’s ray of hope, healing, and redemption. He went through such hell as a child, but has now been able to let go of that horrible past and make his own brighter future. He is an inspiring and serenely calming force to the rest of the young disciples. His entire existence is basically destiny proving that doing good is ultimately repaid. As the Star, he is the universe’s reward for the selflessness and love of those around him <3

 XVIII.         Moon: Jiang Cheng

Illusion, fear, anxiety, insecurity, subconscious, intuition, dreams, dim and uncertain, mystery, shadow self, repression, secrets, invisible things being revealed, deception, requirement for vigilance and clear perception, misjudgment

(Reversed: release of fear, weight being lifted, unrealistic, feeling stuck, unhappiness, confusion)

Reasoning: I finally decided on Jiang Cheng because of how much his character arc is rooted in hidden insecurity and misjudgment. Both as a child and as an adult, Jiang Cheng struggles to repress his complicated feelings. He feels stuck in the nostalgic past and trapped in the bitterness of Wei Wuxian’s betrayal. His subconscious fear and anxiety manifests as him literally lashing out. And all these years, he had to sit on a certain unspoken secret. Even by the end of the novel, that weight has not yet been entirely lifted. We can only hope that sometime in the future, Jiang Cheng will finally throw off the remaining shackles of the Moon Arcana for good.

 XIX.      Sun: “Mianmian” Luo Qingyang

Fun, warmth, success, positivity, vitality, optimism, fulfillment, source of life, happiness, action, radiation of love, confidence, enthusiasm, energy, freedom, enlightenment

(Reversed: temporary depression, lack of success, difficulty finding optimism/enthusiasm, overoptimistic)

Reasoning: This one is probably more of a stretch, but the character arc of Mianmian (AKA Luo Qingyang) is a bright spot in the cultivation world of MDZS. She started out beaten down and taken advantage of by the horrible Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao, but she grows to take action on her own. She frees herself from the burdens of her original clan to repay Wei Wuxian’s generosity. And she shows up one last time at the end of the novel--now a confident cultivator in her own right and married with an adorable daughter, as proof that happy endings are possible. Her trajectory towards happiness is a great example of the Sun Arcana’s radiating love and infectious fulfillment.

Runner-up: the optimistic baby disciples including Lan Jingyi, who shine the hope for a brighter future in the cultivation world

XX.           Judgment: Lan Wangji

Judgment, rebirth, inner calling, absolution, inevitable, new beginning, reflection, epiphany, learning from past experiences, awakening, putting the past behind you, cleaning/purging of sins and wrongdoings, control of own destiny

(Reversed: self-doubt, missing new opportunities, overly self-critical, refusal to examine self, fear of making the important decision)

Reasoning: If our major arcana began with Wei Wuxian, it’s only fitting that it ends with Lan Wangji. In their “first life” together, Lan Wangji struggled to pin down how he felt towards Wei Wuxian, constantly doubting his own actions. He finally reached an epiphany: what he was feeling was love. This was his inner calling, his purpose for existence. Yet he was ultimately incapable of expressing his emotions until it was far too late. Only after Wei Wuxian’s rebirth could Lan Wangji take the lessons he had learned from those mistakes, and finally put his reflections into action. Now Lan Wangji can stand straight and proud, declaring even against the weight of the whole world: This is who I am, this is what I want. As Judgment, he is now the one in control of destiny, able to avoid the tragic fate of their first lives and create a new beginning.

XXI.              World: Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian

Completion, integration, accomplishment, travel, looking infinitely outward, evolution, balance, victory, success, enlightenment, closure, achievement, everything coming together, celebration, fulfillment, unity/wholeness, giving back, new experiences and beginnings

(Reversed: lack of completion, taking the easy path instead of the necessary one, lack of closure, delay)

Reasoning: Come on, do I even have to say it? Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji complete each other. They are each other’s missing parts. The moment these two lovestruck idiots finally get together is the Mo Dao Zu Shi novel’s peak of achievement, the cheers of success, the point of victory. And of course, you know, the satisfying climax where every single plot thread came together to solve the overarching conspiracy. After obtaining closure on (almost) all the mysteries and starting the celebrations, the two of them can finally elope together, riding off into the sunset to start a new journey across the World <3

And that’s all the major arcana! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think about these interpretations too!

[sulkybbarnes]

So I saw your ask about Ronan not really having a complete story and how it’s hard to really know what he would want. And I think that’s true for everyone but Adam - who always had a clear image for what he wanted his future to be. It seems like Ronan has some of the least self-reflection out of all 4 of them. But even Blue is focused on her mom or Gansey or her curse. Gansey is focused on Glendower and feeling sorry for himself. They just feel so incomplete.

Hmm let me start by saying that I both agree and disagree with you on this, anon. For a start, yes I do agree that the only one who had defined ambitions and an arc that felt clear was Adam. We know what Adam wants and what he’s working towards because he’s the most introspective and analytical of all the characters. Adam thinks through his actions and his words and gives the reader a clear cut understanding of his thought process, and therefore Adam has the best arc and development from all the characters. Adam doesn’t allow his circumstances to define him even though he worries constantly about that very thing (or maybe because he worries about being defined by them) whereas the other characters seem to have their actions and outcomes defined by their backstories. Blue with her curse and family, Ronan by his dreaming and his father’s legacy, Gansey by his fears and his quest for Glendower. So, yes, by the end they have all somewhat reached an end to their respective stories within the series, but none of them has had a concept of beyond because none of them was given an outcome or a purpose beyond their immediate plotline. 

However, I disagree that Ronan has some of the least self-reflection out of all 4 of them. I’d argue that that particular honour goes to Gansey. We see Ronan start off hostile and with a lot of self destructive behaviour that is the result of his trauma in trb, and that carries well into tdt. Throughout tdt we see Ronan fighting his demons (both metaphorical and physical manifestations of them) and struggling with self loathing and his inability to understand who he is. The scene with Opal (Orphan Girl) in the forest shows that Ronan had been silently working towards the epitome of self-reflection which is reaching acceptance of who you are. Opal asks “Why do you hate yourself?” and Ronan says “I don’t.”. 

We then get Ronan working throughout bllb to wake his father’s dreams which is him finding purpose, and trusting Adam with his secrets and his gifts and ultimately showing his heart which is the result of his development in tdt. By trk Ronan has revealed more of his heart and his magic, he shows more trust and his edges are softened, we see him quitting destructive habits he had (the racing and the drinking), and embracing light (somewhat literally). He even has a civilised conversation with Declan, and continues to put Matthew’s happiness first. All of this is the result of self reflection and development because we all know that trb Ronan wasn’t healed enough yet to have done most of these things. After Adam, I think Ronan has had the most development and the biggest shift in his dynamic with the others, whereas Blue and Gansey felt stuck in place to me, both unable (and seemingly unwilling) to self reflect and change. This isn’t hate towards either of them or whatever; I’m not giving my opinion on their characters, just on how they were written and how their actions played out. Trk Gansey was pretty much trb Gansey but with a love interest and a new piece of information on how he survived dying the first time, which is why I’d say he’s the least developed of the characters. Gansey showed when he had the “Don’t hurt him” talk with Adam that he hasn’t really changed how he viewed Adam (or how he treated him which is really yikes) nor how he viewed Ronan and treated him (also yikes). Blue is only marginally better in terms of development because she seems to have found some semblance of peace with how she relates to her family and who she is. However Blue is so underdeveloped as a female character that I didn’t take that as much of a win overall.

Ronan can definitely benefit from more development and from being allowed to heal and move on from the Barns, and god knows I want him to have a purpose and ambitions beyond his father’s shady dealing but. I won’t be holding my breath for any of that any time soon. I think we all know that cd*h only promises more trauma and struggles for Ronan, so unfortunately it’ll be a long time before we get a Ronan with ambitions beyond dealing with the consequences of Niall’s actions.

Anyway, thank you for the ask buddy, I really liked hearing what you think about this!

[recklessheroism-archive-blog]

( reposted from my about page in a reblogabble form w/ formatting changes. if you find the formatted version visually difficult or irritating to read, the unformatted version is on the about page! this & the about page will be updated as i learn more things about my muse. )

for the most part, my portrayal will follow the canon of star trek: alternate original series. however, here are some things i’ve added to my version of jim.

trigger warnings: abuse, starvation, murder, death, ptsd, traumatic mutism, bipolar disorder, & eating disorder.

triggers are bolded at the beginning of each section so that you can skip over anything that may be triggering for you. if you’d like a summary of any part that you skipped over, feel free to ask me! i can change things around, to a certain extent, so that we can write together.

1. tw: abuse. jim & his stepfather, frank, were not on the best of terms. ever since frank had come into his life, jim had despised him. there was just something about the way he treated winona that jim didn’t like. he’d only given the guy a chance at his mother’s request, something which he sorely regretted after she married him. when winona went back to starfleet, sam ran away from home & jim was left with frank & his abusive tendencies. it started just bad moods & snide remarks, but the remarks got worse with time. words became stronger, louder. they were picked more carefully, picked to tear the young boy apart. & as if that wasn’t enough, frank shoved him, hit him, even made him bleed. the effects of this abuse still haunt jim, but he’s been healing with time & distance.

2. tw: starvation, murder, death. after jim had stolen & wrecked frank’s car, frank unilaterally enrolled jim in the earth colony on tarsus iv. winona had no knowledge of this decision, as she was off-world with starfleet. the distance was freeing, at first. he was glad to be out from under frank’s thumb at last. on tarsus iv, he was able to live the kind of childhood he’d wanted. for a time, he was happy. he did well in school, he played sports, he had friends — he thrived. but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

famine fell over the colony as an exotic fungus destroyed their food supply. suddenly, paradise had become hell. as colonists panicked & worried, riots began to break out. jim ran from the facility he’d been living at with the few children he knew that were now or previously orphaned, & they stuck together for as long as they could. naturally, he took charge of the small group, organizing them in a way that would benefit the group the most. he & the older children would scavenge for food while those younger would stay together & hide.

it worked for a short while, but like the rest of those who had survived the first wave of death, their group began to succumb as well. jim tried his best to care for them all. he made sure they had first pick of the food, & he only ate as much as he needed to survive another day. he did everything he could to make sure they survived. there are things he did there that he’ll never speak of.

but the worst of it all was how he killed to save them. the first time, he didn’t sleep for days. he felt so ill he could barely move, but he had to. he had to take care of the others. it got a little easier with time, but it was always a last resort. in the end, though, he lost most of them to starvation or illness or both. by the end, it was only him & kevin riley left.

they were eventually forced to rejoin a larger group out of necessity when kevin fell ill. jim refused to let the young boy die too. with help from the larger group, they were able to nurse him back to relative health. but that’s when it happened.

governor kodos, under the pretense of aid, divided the remaining colonists into two groups. unbeknownst to them, the division would cost 4,000 colonists their lives. kodos had separated the survivors based on strength & likelihood of survival. those who were stronger & more likely to survive were allowed to live. those who were weaker & less likely were executed. jim was one of nine eyewitnesses to the execution.

supply ships arrived too late to save the 4,000 sentenced to death, but when they arrived, jim & the remaining orphaned children were sent home to earth. to this day, jim still has ptsd & nightmares about life on tarsus iv & the execution of 4,000 innocent survivors.

3. tw: ptsd, traumatic mutism. following the traumatic events on tarsus iv, jim & kevin returned to earth & were placed into the care of jim’s mother, who had returned as soon as she had learned of the famine & that frank had sent jim there. at that point, she was in the process of divorcing frank, & she filed for a restraining order on her & jim’s behalf.

jim regularly saw a child psychologist to help him through his ptsd. directly following the events of the tarsus iv massacre, jim went without speaking for about a month. his psychologist assured his mother that he would speak when he was ready, & that it was his mind’s way of coping with what happened.

additionally, for years after his return from tarsus iv, jim would hide scraps of food around the house. this was both to convince his mother that he was finishing his meals & out of fear that another famine could occur at any moment.

with time & support, his symptoms have nearly disappeared, but he will occasionally have periods of ptsd related distress, specifically in the form of nightmares & anxiety, even in adulthood.

4a. tw: bipolar disorder. while at starfleet academy, jim began to act out of the ordinary. some days, he found it difficult to get out of bed. or when he did, he felt incredibly numb & unable to enjoy all the things he loved to do. some days, he couldn’t sleep at all & stayed out all night, & he could become incredibly irritible at the drop of a hat. there was no obvious reason as to why he behaved these ways, so jim hadn’t seen them as a problem at the time. but as these behaviors & others began to exhibit themselves, jim’s friends became increasingly worried about him. leonard mccoy was especially concerned.

being jim’s roommate & best friend, leonard had a hard time standing by & allowing jim to push himself into riskier & riskier situations. shortly after leonard had expressed this concerns, jim began to see that he was right. he had been denying any problems he’d been facing for far too long, & he needed to confront them instead. so, with a lot of coaxing from leonard, jim made an appointment to see one of starfleet academy’s mental health professionals.

the process of diagnosis didn’t happen overnight. in fact, it took many weeks before they reached any sort of conclusion. but when they did, it was then that jim learned he had bipolar disorder.  ( this form is likely bipolar II disorder. source: here. )  at the time, he was unsure of what this meant, but he was assured by the counseling team that with some help & support, he would be able to manage his moods better.

for the rest of his time at the academy, he continued attending weekly therapy sessions & tried out different medications until he & his therapist were satisfied he’d found the right one. while friends came & went, leonard was there every step of the way.

by the time he was given command of the enterprise, he was mentally in a much healthier state. but that doesn’t mean he never struggled. currently, he does what he can to manage his symptoms, but he’s human, & he can’t always handle them as well as he would like to. but with the help & support of his close friends, his therapist, & a strict self-imposed therapy plan, he generally manages well.  ( for more information on bipolar disorder, go here. many of the items in the chart of signs & symptoms apply to jim during the corresponding episodes. )

4b. tw: abuse, eating disorder, bipolar disorder. as a result of growing up with a physically, verbally, & emotionally abusive step-father, jim occasionally has trouble when it comes to taking care of himself. specifically, he has a mild form of anorexia & struggles with eating enough food. this tendency seems to stem from the traumatic events of tarsus iv & childhood self-esteem issues brought on by his step-father, who often made negative comments about his weight when he was young.

this disordered eating has gotten better with time & effort, but he is more likely to relapse during depressive & manic episodes of his bipolar disorder. during depressive episodes, his self-esteem is lowered & he begins to worry about his weight. this causes him to eat very little. during manic episodes, he can be moving so quickly & erratically that he forgets to eat. 

even when he is not experiencing symptoms of an episode, he can have trouble with food. as a result of his time spent in crisis on tarsus iv, he rarely eats a full meal. he feels that there must be other people who need food more than he does, so he can go without for them. it’s a habit, a destructive thought he’s been trying to break, but it’s been years & he still has trouble. with a lot of coaxing & assurance, he can finish a meal, but he never feels truly great about it. he has, however, broken his habit of hiding large quantities of food. 

5. on a lighter note, jim has a cat! her name is rosie & he adores her. he found her during one of the enterprise’s pit stops when she stowed away on the ship. he loves her so much that no one has had the heart to remind him that it’s not exactly allowed.

she is very affectionate & serves as an emotional support animal for jim as well as an unofficial therapy cat for most of the bridge crew, as those are the crewmembers closest to jim.

rosie is a special cat as well. she has the ability to walk on walls & ceilings, & she is often found hiding on one of those surfaces when she wants some alone time. additionally, her eyes & fur appear to sparkle a bit, like she was bathed in stars.

6. jim is very respectful of women.  ( fuck you, j.j. abrams. )  therefore, that scene where he hid under gaila’s bed and saw nyota undressing? jim may have seen nyota, but he immediately looked away. same goes for that scene with carol marcus changing. james. tiberius. kirk. respects. women.

7. follow these links for romance & sex headcanons. 

[itspatsy]

you're out on the bottomless sea

Summary: All Jessica wanted was some pizza rolls, but first she had to peel a drug-addled teen idol off the floor. (or: everything good Trish ever learned, she learned from Jessica.)

Read at AO3. 

Jessica trudged through the door, boots dragging and bookbag crashing against the marble floor of the foyer. Dorothy would've scolded her about making scuff marks, but sadly, what she didn't see wouldn't hurt her. It was Friday and time to toss off the week's bullshit, so she made a beeline for the kitchen with a hankering for some inexplicably delicious cardboard flavored junk food. At least that was the plan. But of course, bullshit was inescapable in the Walker home, and as she passed by the sitting room, she saw something that forced to stop in her tracks.

She sighed dramatically. Maybe next time, Totino’s. As much as pizza rolls of questionable nutritional value called to her, she figured she should probably do something about the busted up, glassy eyed child star slumped by the couch.

Again.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence lately, and it pissed Jessica off each and every time. Not so much at Trish. They had reached something of a truce, a friendship even. They weren't some twee secret sharing bosom buddies kind of shit or whatever, but what they had was still… nice. It was good to have a friend. Jessica had always hung out with a small group of other social outcasts, but they were never tight, and they got all weird when she came back to school after the accident. She and Trish hadn’t known each other before that and had only gone to the same school in the barest sense of the word. Trish was usually away filming or doing publicity, and they ran in entirely different social circles when she was actually there. Jessica had assumed she was some stuck up, empty-headed, spoiled rich kid with an oversized ego and probably a cocaine habit to match.

But as it turned out, it wasn't as easy for her to hate on a spoiled rich kid when the kid was doing all the work and when she was living in the kid’s house benefiting from the money. And mercifully, Trish herself turned out to be different than Jessica expected. She wasn’t entirely wrong with her first impression: Trish was more than capable of being a snarky, sneering brat, and while she didn’t really mess around with illegal drugs, she was never far from a pill bottle, but she was also cool and whip smart and funny and good-hearted. And her taste in music was actually pretty decent, all explosive angry girl rock, not the mind-numbing bubblegum pop Jessica had anticipated. Really, nothing about Trish was as bad as she anticipated. And honestly, who was she to pass judgement on an occasional streak of bitchery? She wasn’t that lacking in self-awareness. She'd have to hate herself too. Or, you know... hate herself even more than she already did. Whatever the case, she liked Trish, and it was hard to be angry at her.

Her mother was another matter altogether. Dorothy Walker was a dangerous whack job and a nightmare to live with. Jessica was able to get by mostly unscathed because Dorothy just... didn't give a shit about her, and she was honestly glad for it, even though she knew it definitely wasn't how adoptions were supposed to go. Trish, meanwhile, was always directly in her path of destruction. Getting slammed into a wall by a superpowered teenage freak might have spooked Dorothy, but apparently nothing could stop her from being a calculating, child abusing assclown. Jessica could threaten and intimidate, but she couldn’t be there every time Dorothy was near Trish, and the woman had her own leverage now that she knew of Jessica’s powers. The fact of the matter was, Jessica was an orphan kid with nothing to her name, and Dorothy was rich, powerful, and well-lawyered. She only had so many options available to her while living under the Walker roof.

And two of those options right now were A.) eating some goddamn pizza rolls or B.) peeling Trish off the floor. As always, option B won out. But she didn't have to be nice about it, so she stomped into the room, bent down, and roughly shook Trish’s leg. “Hey! You alive?”

It took a moment, but Trish turned her head in Jessica’s general direction and grinned. The bloody nose and busted lip colored her teeth red, and her sunken, glazed eyes stood out even more against her ashen complexion. It was kind of creepy. Like Night of the Living Dead creepy. Jessica pulled back her hand, ready to throw a punch in case Trish had suddenly developed a more carnivorous diet.

Her brains appeared safe, as Trish finally slurred out, “Oh, hey, it’s Jessie. Real nice to see you, Jessie. Where’ve yoooou been all day?”

Jessica inwardly cringed at the nickname. That was a Dorothy thing. Trish didn’t use it unless she was being a condescending ass and trying to pick a fight. “At school.”

“Oh, yeah, school. Like the normal kids do.” Trish looked contemplative for a moment. “But then why were you there? Shouldn’t you be in the ‘gifted’ program?”

Trish giggled at her own stupid joke, and Jessica rolled her eyes. She grabbed Trish’s arm and hoisted her off the floor, maybe a little more harshly than strictly necessary. She lurched forward into Jessica, unable to keep her feet about her, and Jessica shoved her onto the sofa. She crashed back into the cushion, still giggling.

Jessica sneered. “You look like shit. Maybe I should take pictures, send ‘em to the tabloids. How much do you think they’d pay to get proof that perfect Patsy Walker is just another drug-addled fuck up of a child star?”

Trish’s eyes turned hard, or as hard as her strung out state would allow, which was pretty unimpressive, frankly. A fly could knock her ass over right now, and she was a scrawny thing even on a good day. “Fuck off, Jessica,” she growled, but her baby bird voice just further undermined any intimidation factor. It was honestly just sad.

And ugh, okay, fiiiiine. Maybe what she said was kind of low. She thought all the anger was for Dorothy, but maybe she was kind of angry at Trish too. Not for the bleeding on the carpet, obviously, but more the part where she was blitzed out of her fucking mind, and Jessica was the one left dealing with it again. Though she knew the drug habit wasn’t exactly Trish’s fault either, and that just made her feel more guilty for being a dick to her when she was in her "most vulnerable state" or whatever psychological mumbo jumbo a shrink would've called it.

As they'd gotten closer, Jessica had gotten the low-down on the pills, and in an utterly unsurprising turn of events, Dorothy's negligent parenting featured heavily. Basically, Trish once had a panic attack on set when she was 13, so Dorothy took her to the doctor, and she was prescribed an anti-anxiety medication. Pretty standard and what you might expect from a decent parent, right? Of course, when it happened a few more times, Dorothy took her back and made the doctor up the dosage to eleven. By that point, Trish was practically a zombie on set, and that just wasn’t acceptable either. So then came Adderall in an attempt to offset the effect of the benzo, which was insane but also classic Dorothy, and hey, as it turned out you could get more work out of a girl that was hyped on speed, and it just snowballed from there.

Trish told Jessica she resisted at first, said she hated the way the meds made her feel. But as it almost always did, Dorothy's browbeating and bullying prevailed. Now Trish took them willingly, gratefully even. And too damn often, in Jessica's opinion. It wasn't as bad when Dorothy was off schmoozing with producers and ignoring them for days on end, but if the mom-ster spent any time hovering on set or at home, Trish would start popping pills, which led to fucks ups, which led to more abuse from Dorothy, which led to more pill popping until Trish could barely string a sentence together or was bouncing off the walls. It was a fucked up cycle, and it was getting worse. She'd come home one too many times to find Trish slumped at the kitchen table or, like, flying around the room talking a mile a minute and waving a bleeding hand because she hadn't realized how hard she was holding a glass.

It was becoming a problem. Like, the kind of capital P problem that would result in a Very Special Episode in some 80s sitcom, and it was not something Jessica was equipped to deal with. She could absolutely see the appeal of being barely conscious when Dorothy Walker was breathing down your neck, but she dreaded the possibility of finding the least annoying person she knew dead on the floor from an overdose. And maybe she took her fear out on Trish sometimes, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but maybe it also wasn't fair that she had to worry about her friend dying like that.

Whatever it was, being mean to Trish always made her feel like a creep, so she sighed, resigned to her fate. “Stay here. I’m gonna get something to clean you up with.” She went to the bathroom and grabbed a few wash clothes, wetting them in the sink. Then she grabbed the first aid kit. She looked longingly at the kitchen as she passed it on her way back.

Trish hadn’t moved at all.

Jessica sat beside her and brought the washcloth up to her chin slowly. She jerked away, apparently surprised even though Jessica had telegraphed her intention. She brushed her fingers through Trish's hair a little to ease her, then held the back of her head and brought her face to the cloth, gently wiping at the dried blood. It didn’t look as bad with the blood gone, but it wasn’t great either. No broken nose, but her left eye was already beginning to bruise, and the lip would take a few days to heal.

“Isn't there some rule about hitting you in the face or something? Or is your mom trying to change the theme song? 'I wanna be your abuse poster child’ doesn’t have quite the same ring to it."

There was a long silence, and Jessica worried she might have pushed too far. Trish had a dark sense of humor that could rival her own, but it had to be the right moment. And maybe the right moment wasn’t just after getting her face smashed by her shitty mom. Or maybe it was, because Trish smirked and let out a chuckle.

"Haven’t you heard? Bruised is the new black. She’s just making sure I stay up to date with the latest fads.” The smirk dropped, and she ran a tentative tongue across the cut on her swollen lip. “Anyway, we wrapped for the season, and I don't have any public engagements coming up for now. So." She gestured to her face.

“What about school?”

Trish shrugged. “She’ll just keep me out for a few days if it’s not healed enough by Monday. The school doesn’t really know the filming schedule, and it’s not like they’ll ask the set tutor. Besides, makeup does wonders.”

That was true enough. Trish had an assortment of methods to hide the bruises, though they weren’t usually so obviously placed as her face. A little concealer here and there, bracelets, sleeves, scarves. Jesus, scarves ga-freaking-lore. People probably thought it was some trendy statement piece, and "gosh, that Patsy Walker is just so fashionable, isn't she?" but really Dorothy just liked a go for the neck.

She wasn't as subtle as she liked to pretend either. People knew. They had to. Sometimes they added to it, like the crapass producers that nodded along to Dorothy's sniping comments about the rail thin starlet standing to lose a few more pounds. Everyone else just let it happen. The doctors that prescribed enough medication to down a grizzly bear, let alone a tiny teenage girl. The directors that waved off Dorothy's cloying "please excuse us" smiles and pretended not to hear the yelling through the office door. The actors that saw their co-star flinch every time her mother walked on set. The make up artists and costumers that covered the bruises. The set tutors that didn’t even argue when Dorothy cut lessons shorter and shorter. Hell, even the craft table workers that watched her smack a cupcake out of Trish's hand and shove a handful of celery at her. Not a word from any of them.

Then there were the agents and publicists, working double time to cover it up and keep it quiet, making sure the Patsy brand and origins stayed shiny and wholesome, the American Dream at work. Such humble beginnings, just a little girl and her mom, poor but hardworking, rising to fame and fortune with a little luck. A great American success story, and a girl who could be you.

Trish didn't want their help, didn't want anyone saving her, but Jessica didn't know how they all stood by and pretended to ignore it. She guessed that was how the entertainment industry had always worked, its golden legacy, abuse or at least a blind eye to it for the sake of one more dollar. Most of them likely didn't care at all. And the ones who did were probably too scared to speak out for fear they would conjure the all-powerful, fire-breathing industry lawyers that would force them out of their jobs, destroy their reputation, and leave them with nothing. Money grubbing or apathy or self-preservation, whatever the reason, they all relied on the It's Patsy cash cow and didn't dare disturb the unspoken balance.

How did you fight a system so full of structured indifference and greed and self-protection? Jessica figured you didn't fight it. You just tried to escape it with whatever scraps of yourself you could carry with you. She knew Trish had the strength to make it out, but she worried more and more each day what would be left of her when she did.

“Where did Mommy Dearest get to anyway?” she asked.

Trish inspected her nails, appearing completely disinterested. “Passed out drunk by the pool? Tormenting some producer’s beleaguered assistant? Giving blowjobs to the entirety of the Teen Choice Awards voting panel? I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

Jessica almost smiled. “Can’t we dig up some evidence against her or something? Tax evasion? Embezzlement? I mean, she’s done worse, but sometimes you gotta catch them with the smaller stuff. Like Capone, ya know?”

Trish made a mock scandalized face. "C'mon, Jess, don’t talk about her that way. When Mom's not smacking me around, piling me with pills, shoving my own fingers down my throat, pimping me out, hoarding my money, or adopting kids for publicity and then ignoring their existence, she's…” Jessica raised a questioning eyebrow and Trish smirked, continuing, “...still a total hellspawn incapable of human empathy or feeling."

Jessica laughed. “Truer words.”

If her coherence and vocabulary were anything to go by, Trish was sobering up, which was good as far as Jessica was concerned. Apparently not so much as far as Trish was concerned, since she was stretching an arm to the end table where her pill bottles were scattered.

"Hey." Jessica reached out and stopped her, knowing it was probably going to provoke a fight but not giving a shit. "Don’t."

“Don’t what?” Trish snapped.

“I think you’ve had enough already. What do you even need them for? She’s not here.” But I'm here, she wanted to say. Stay here with me.

Trish scoffed, shaking her head. "God, what do you even care, Jess? What difference does it make to you?" 

Of course, she just had to be right about it starting a fight, and now bitter, belligerent Trish was in full action. Always a pleasure, that one. Hadn't they just been cracking jokes and laughing? Things always turned on a dime in this house. But shit, Jessica could be snotty too. “Because then I have to clean up the mess.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Oh, come off it. You don’t have to do anything. You could just skulk around your room, stick on some headphones, ignore it all. But you don’t. You've never been able to keep your nose out of it." Jessica was still holding Trish's arm, could feel the tension, see her fist clinched tightly. Her nails weren't long, but it was enough to leave little red moon crescents on her palm. She did it often, and Jessica knew it had to sting. Which was probably the point. 

"What's all this about? What do you really want?” Trish asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Goddamn, now she was acting paranoid. This was quickly escalating into uncharted territory. Jessica shrugged a shoulder, trying to remain casual, but she was becoming increasingly agitated herself. "I don’t know. Aren't we supposed to be family now or whatever? Isn’t that what family does for each other?"

"Family?" Trish sneered. "What do you even know about family?"

Okay. Okay, then. It was just a day of low blows, wasn't it? Trish was usually careful not to mention Jessica’s family unless Jessica brought it up first. Which was basically never. For a damn good reason. Seriously. Shit. Just... shit. It wasn't... what the fuck? It felt like her head was collapsing in on itself and her skin was was trying to peel itself off, and okay, yeah, casual was out the window now, it flew the nest and got swiped out of the sky by a feral cat.

Trish made to push her off but she held tight. Held hard. Harder than she intended or realized. She wasn't there, and she didn't know. Trish gasped in pain, and Jessica quickly let go, coming back to reality. But now she had a different reason to want to throw herself in a hole and collapse the dirt around her. Red marks were already forming on Trish's wrist, as if she needed more bruises. Except this time it was Jessica that caused them. What was wrong with her? Why did she always fuck everything up? Why did she always cause the most harm to the people she loved?  

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't--"

Trish laughed sharply, like acid burning through concrete, and it made Jessica feel even sicker. If they were already filled up with this ugly bitterness and self-loathing, how would there ever be room left in them for anything else?

"Why apologize?" Trish asked. "I'll probably just think it's from Mom in the morning anyway. Well, assuming you don’t flush my pills or something, since you’re suddenly so concerned about it."

Jessica felt a surge of anger, but it wasn't at herself this time. Fuck guilt. This wasn't her fault. This wasn't even about her. She was just trying to do the decent thing, and she was getting crucified for it, getting her dead family thrown in her face. It was so goddamn typical. She tried to keep her voice even and measured, and she just barely managed to grit out, “I’m just trying to help you.”

“Well, I never asked for your help," Trish snapped. "Just leave me alone already!”

“God, would you shut up!” Jessica shouted, jumping to her feet and just done, done with all the bullshit, the self-pitying destruction. It was selfish. So fucking selfish.

Trish flinched and hunched in on herself, obviously anticipating some withering verbal assault or a raised hand. Usually Jessica would've felt terrible for causing a reaction like that, for making Trish feel unsafe, but this time it just spurred her anger further. She prowled the floor. “Has that stupid wig cut off circulation to your brain? What don't you get about this? Is it really so crazy that I’m tired of finding you passed out? That I’m worried one day you won’t wake up? That I hate that nothing I do seems to help? Well, excuse me if that's too goddamned pushy for you! I don't give a shit. I'm not going sit around with my thumb up my ass while you kill yourself.”

Trish looked at her, wide-eyed, taken aback by the outburst. And a little guilty. Good. Maybe she was finally getting through that thick fucking skull. She came to a stop in front of Trish, calmer. “You know what? I think I get some of it now. This snotty tantrum of yours. I bet you don’t even know how to deal with this, do you?”

Trish took a troubled breathe. "With what?" she asked, voice barely audible.

“Someone caring about you. You asked what I know about family? Well, I know a whole lot more than you, asshole. My parents loved me unconditionally even when I was being a whiny shit. And my brother was an obnoxious little dweeb, but I would've done anything for him. Just because they’re dead doesn’t mean I don’t remember what it’s like to have a family and be loved, okay?"

Trish looked absolutely fucking miserable now. She opened her mouth to make excuses, to apologize, to something, but Jessica didn't care. She wasn't finished. "You're the one who doesn't know anything about family, all right? You don't know anything about being loved or loving someone. You don't know shit. You’re used to people wanting something from you."

Trish couldn't even look at her now. She was doing everything possible to sink further into the couch, make herself small and weightless, just dissolve herself right out of existence. But Jessica wasn't going to let her, not now and not ever.

“Look at me, please." Trish didn't move, so she grabbed her shoulders and shook them a little. Finally, Trish turned her head up to meet Jessica's eyes, and shit, she was crying, she'd never seen her cry before. But there was no walking this back now, so she pressed on. "Listen. I like you for you, and I don’t want anything from you except to be your friend, okay?"

Trish just looked at her, tears rolling down her cheeks, jaw clenched tight, and body trembling lightly. But there was hope in her eyes, like she couldn't believe what Jessica was offering but so badly wanted it. Jessica brought her hand up to wipe away a tear with her thumb. "Okay?" she repeated, gently. She didn't really know where this well of tenderness was coming from, when she'd become capable of it, but it seemed to work. After a long moment, Trish nodded. She raised her hands, one pulling Jessica's away to grasp it and the other wiping at her face.

Touching Trish like this, holding her hand, Jessica realized it was the most physical contact she'd had in awhile. Dorothy almost never touched her, except for photo ops, and that had decreased as public interest in the adoption waned… and after Jessica slammed her into the wall. She was fine with it, preferred it even. She didn't need to be touched. Did she miss the feeling of her mother running fingers through her hair or rubbing her back? Her dad kissing her forehead or playfully tugging at her ear? Or even her brother's arms around her neck, choking the life out of her during a begged for piggyback ride? Of course, she missed it, but that wasn't her life anymore. It wasn't fair, but she just had to accept it. Maternal affection from Dorothy Walker left a lot to be desired anyway. She touched Trish all the time. Shoving and prodding and squeezing and pulling. Dorothy hugged her sometimes, if there were cameras around or to use as a subtle warning gesture in public, arm across a shoulder and nails digging in hard enough to leave marks under her shirt.

She thought maybe Trish could use a real hug. She thought maybe she could too.

Before she could have second thoughts about it, Jessica sighed and sat back on the couch alongside Trish. "This is going to be awkward, but I'm going to hug you now, okay?"

Trish blinked at her, eyes still red. “Ummm... how about you don’t do that?”

Jessica went for it anyway.

She was right. It was awkward. She didn't really remember how to hug. Last her parents were alive, she'd been the epitome of disinterested, disgruntled teenager, giving half-hearted pats on the back or dodging hugs entirely because they were lame. She regretted it now, wishing more than anything she could take her parents and her brother in her arms again. But hindsight didn't mean much, except to help her appreciate what was in front of her, so she put all of that feeling into holding the person in her arms now. She felt hesitant hands on her back, and then finally arms coming round her sides, squeezing hard, desperately.

They stayed like that for a long minute, until she felt Trish wince. She pulled back, worried she hurt her again.

"It's okay." Trish waved a hand dismissively, but her other hand went to her side. Knowing she wasn't going to be able to brush it past Jessica so easily, she added, "It wasn't you."

Jessica knocked the hand out of the way and went for the hem of Trish's shirt.  Ignoring her protests, she lifted it up and found a bruise across her ribs. Unlike a few yellowish marks littering her back, this one was red, fresh. It was going to look brutal in a few days and would definitely hurt like hell. Jessica once again found herself caught between violent anger and weary resignation, the most popular emotional exports of the Walker household. But Trish didn't need her rage and righteous indignation, especially not right now, so she settled for a scoff instead. 

"Christ, man, did she hit you with a chair?" Trish grinned wryly, a little blood left on her teeth. "What is this, the WWE? Nah, it's more like..." she paused and poshed-up her accent into a snooty English cadence, "Ms. Walker with a Nickelodeon blimp in the library."

"How is Clue better than the WWE?" asked Jessica, skeptically.

Trish turned up her nose. "It's more classy."

Jessica chuckled, relieved they were back to joking. All this talking about feelings shit, having to actually verbalize what she felt in her blood and her bones, it was way past her comfort zone, and it was freaking exhausting. But snark she could do. "Maybe one day we’ll get lucky and find Dorothy hanging from the studio rafters with the Patsy wig around her neck."

Trish smacked at Jessica's leg in excitement. “Oh! Or come home to find her tragically crushed beneath a Teen Choice Awards surfboard.”

They broke out into laughter and started coming up with the wildest, most outlandish, and comical death scenarios they could imagine. Maybe it was messed up to joke about Dorothy dying, and maybe they were sick fucks for even thinking it. Or maybe it was just the best way to deal with all the shit. Gallows humor, right? Catharsis. It felt good to laugh, and it made everything feel a little less hopeless, like things didn't always have to be this way.

Eventually, their laughter turned to wheezing giggles and finally contented sighs. In their hysterics, they'd ended up pressed close, shoulder to shoulder, legs twisted together. Trish grabbed her hand again with both of her own, holding it so carefully and gently, as if she was some rare, precious thing, and maybe that was exactly what she was to Trish.

"Hey, Jess? Earlier... you said you feel like nothing you do helps. But that's not true. Just you being here and like... actually caring about what happens to me? It makes a difference. I know there's finally somebody on my side. Is that what family's supposed to feel like?"

Yeah, that was it. Jessica squeezed her hands back, knowing that would be answer enough. Then she cleared her throat and asked, “Want me to get the Saran Wrap?”

Trish smiled, her head dropping to the side and resting on Jessica’s shoulder. “In a little while.”

[sprwblvm]

Transcendence

Hello there!

It has been a while… and naturally, a lot has happened since I last posted. I just want to write freely about what has been going on for the past couple months.. Have you ever experienced something like this?

As I began to gain more confidence about where my path was taking me next, I had also allowed a lot of anxiety, fear, and confusion to somehow sneak in and linger in the back of my mind. As much as I felt ready for honest expression on the surface, there was still many deep patterns and painful habits quietly festering in my subconscious. This resulted in periods of extreme highs and lows. I either felt confident, happy, aware, and able to accomplish a lot — or depressed, anxious, destructive, and entirely defeated. I was struggling to find true love for myself. Everything rooted back to this notion. It amazes me how we can truly believe, feel, and even convince ourselves that we’ve overcame these obstacles completely, but suddenly we arrive back to a previous place of illusion and darkness. Something keeping us stuck.

Healing takes time and deep, unconditional love. Without the ability to love myself, how could I truly heal? This is what I haven’t been able to realize until now. After being stuck in a simulation of sorts - of illusion and addiction to pain and suffering, and after years of convincing myself that I’m not worthy of love or happiness because of a culmination of experiences and reasons.. how could I possibly expect to have found this true, divine love within myself? This love that is shared within all of us… I was still caught up in the self created story that if I simply try for a bit, and hope hard enough that I would discover it..?

Nuh uh, honey.

Cultivating and becoming truly aware of the deep love that is within us, is a practice and commitment that has no end. This sounds basic, but it was something that I was truly unable to realize until now. I’ve been searching for this love without realizing that there is love in every moment and that it can only truly come from within me. I had always been searching outside of myself. I am so grateful to be here right now, and to be committing to truth and love, living consciously and compassionately, and truly embracing this incomprehensibly divine life.

Thank you for being. :)

-Alana

Cultivating and becoming truly aware of the deep love that is within us, is a practice and commitment that has no end.

[spacesaved]

( reposted from my about page in a reblogabble form w/ formatting changes. if you find the formatted version visually difficult or irritating to read, the unformatted version is on the about page! this & the about page will be updated as i learn more things about my muse. )

for the most part, my portrayal will follow the canon of star trek: alternate original series. however, here are some things i’ve added to my version of jim.

trigger warnings: abuse, starvation, murder, death, ptsd, traumatic mutism, bipolar disorder, & eating disorder.

triggers are bolded at the beginning of each section so that you can skip over anything that may be triggering for you. if you’d like a summary of any part that you skipped over, feel free to ask me! i can change things around, to a certain extent, so that we can write together.

1. tw: abuse. jim & his stepfather, frank, were not on the best of terms. ever since frank had come into his life, jim had despised him. there was just something about the way he treated winona that jim didn’t like. he’d only given the guy a chance at his mother’s request, something which he sorely regretted after she married him. when winona went back to starfleet, sam ran away from home & jim was left with frank & his abusive tendencies. it started just bad moods & snide remarks, but the remarks got worse with time. words became stronger, louder. they were picked more carefully, picked to tear the young boy apart. & as if that wasn’t enough, frank shoved him, hit him, even made him bleed. the effects of this abuse still haunt jim, but he’s been healing with time & distance.

2. tw: starvation, murder, death. after jim had stolen & wrecked frank’s car, frank unilaterally enrolled jim in the earth colony on tarsus iv. winona had no knowledge of this decision, as she was off-world with starfleet. the distance was freeing, at first. he was glad to be out from under frank’s thumb at last. on tarsus iv, he was able to live the kind of childhood he’d wanted. for a time, he was happy. he did well in school, he played sports, he had friends — he thrived. but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

famine fell over the colony as an exotic fungus destroyed their food supply. suddenly, paradise had become hell. as colonists panicked & worried, riots began to break out. jim ran from the facility he’d been living at with the few children he knew that were now or previously orphaned, & they stuck together for as long as they could. naturally, he took charge of the small group, organizing them in a way that would benefit the group the most. he & the older children would scavenge for food while those younger would stay together & hide.

it worked for a short while, but like the rest of those who had survived the first wave of death, their group began to succumb as well. jim tried his best to care for them all. he made sure they had first pick of the food, & he only ate as much as he needed to survive another day. he did everything he could to make sure they survived. there are things he did there that he’ll never speak of.

but the worst of it all was how he killed to save them. the first time, he didn’t sleep for days. he felt so ill he could barely move, but he had to. he had to take care of the others. it got a little easier with time, but it was always a last resort. in the end, though, he lost most of them to starvation or illness or both. by the end, it was only him & kevin riley left.

they were eventually forced to rejoin a larger group out of necessity when kevin fell ill. jim refused to let the young boy die too. with help from the larger group, they were able to nurse him back to relative health. but that’s when it happened.

governor kodos, under the pretense of aid, divided the remaining colonists into two groups. unbeknownst to them, the division would cost 4,000 colonists their lives. kodos had separated the survivors based on strength & likelihood of survival. those who were stronger & more likely to survive were allowed to live. those who were weaker & less likely were executed. jim was one of nine eyewitnesses to the execution.

supply ships arrived too late to save the 4,000 sentenced to death, but when they arrived, jim & the remaining orphaned children were sent home to earth. to this day, jim still has ptsd & nightmares about life on tarsus iv & the execution of 4,000 innocent survivors.

3. tw: ptsd, traumatic mutism. following the traumatic events on tarsus iv, jim & kevin returned to earth & were placed into the care of jim’s mother, who had returned as soon as she had learned of the famine & that frank had sent jim there. at that point, she was in the process of divorcing frank, & she filed for a restraining order on her & jim’s behalf.

jim regularly saw a child psychologist to help him through his ptsd. directly following the events of the tarsus iv massacre, jim went without speaking for about a month. his psychologist assured his mother that he would speak when he was ready, & that it was his mind’s way of coping with what happened.

additionally, for years after his return from tarsus iv, jim would hide scraps of food around the house. this was both to convince his mother that he was finishing his meals & out of fear that another famine could occur at any moment.

with time & support, his symptoms have nearly disappeared, but he will occasionally have periods of ptsd related distress, specifically in the form of nightmares & anxiety, even in adulthood.

4a. tw: bipolar disorder. while at starfleet academy, jim began to act out of the ordinary. some days, he found it difficult to get out of bed. or when he did, he felt incredibly numb & unable to enjoy all the things he loved to do. some days, he couldn’t sleep at all & stayed out all night, & he could become incredibly irritible at the drop of a hat. there was no obvious reason as to why he behaved these ways, so jim hadn’t seen them as a problem at the time. but as these behaviors & others began to exhibit themselves, jim’s friends became increasingly worried about him. leonard mccoy was especially concerned.

being jim’s roommate & best friend, leonard had a hard time standing by & allowing jim to push himself into riskier & riskier situations. shortly after leonard had expressed this concerns, jim began to see that he was right. he had been denying any problems he’d been facing for far too long, & he needed to confront them instead. so, with a lot of coaxing from leonard, jim made an appointment to see one of starfleet academy’s mental health professionals.

the process of diagnosis didn’t happen overnight. in fact, it took many weeks before they reached any sort of conclusion. but when they did, it was then that jim learned he had bipolar disorder.  ( this form is likely bipolar II disorder. source: here. )  at the time, he was unsure of what this meant, but he was assured by the counseling team that with some help & support, he would be able to manage his moods better.

for the rest of his time at the academy, he continued attending weekly therapy sessions & tried out different medications until he & his therapist were satisfied he’d found the right one. while friends came & went, leonard was there every step of the way.

by the time he was given command of the enterprise, he was mentally in a much healthier state. but that doesn’t mean he never struggled. currently, he does what he can to manage his symptoms, but he’s human, & he can’t always handle them as well as he would like to. but with the help & support of his close friends, his therapist, & a strict self-imposed therapy plan, he generally manages well.  ( for more information on bipolar disorder, go here. many of the items in the chart of signs & symptoms apply to jim during the corresponding episodes. )

4b. tw: abuse, eating disorder, bipolar disorder. as a result of growing up with a physically, verbally, & emotionally abusive step-father, jim occasionally has trouble when it comes to taking care of himself. specifically, he has a mild form of anorexia & struggles with eating enough food. this tendency seems to stem from the traumatic events of tarsus iv & childhood self-esteem issues brought on by his step-father, who often made negative comments about his weight when he was young.

this disordered eating has gotten better with time & effort, but he is more likely to relapse during depressive & manic episodes of his bipolar disorder. during depressive episodes, his self-esteem is lowered & he begins to worry about his weight. this causes him to eat very little. during manic episodes, he can be moving so quickly & erratically that he forgets to eat. 

even when he is not experiencing symptoms of an episode, he can have trouble with food. as a result of his time spent in crisis on tarsus iv, he rarely eats a full meal. he feels that there must be other people who need food more than he does, so he can go without for them. it’s a habit, a destructive thought he’s been trying to break, but it’s been years & he still has trouble. with a lot of coaxing & assurance, he can finish a meal, but he never feels truly great about it. he has, however, broken his habit of hiding large quantities of food. 

5. on a lighter note, jim has a cat! her name is rosie & he adores her. he found her during one of the enterprise’s pit stops when she stowed away on the ship. he loves her so much that no one has had the heart to remind him that it’s not exactly allowed.

she is very affectionate & serves as an emotional support animal for jim as well as an unofficial therapy cat for most of the bridge crew, as those are the crewmembers closest to jim.

rosie is a special cat as well. she has the ability to walk on walls & ceilings, & she is often found hiding on one of those surfaces when she wants some alone time. additionally, her eyes & fur appear to sparkle a bit, like she was bathed in stars. for more information, check out my concept for rexelian domestic cats.

6. jim is very respectful of women.  ( fuck you, j.j. abrams. )  therefore, that scene where he hid under gaila’s bed and saw nyota undressing? jim may have seen nyota, but he immediately looked away. same goes for that scene with carol marcus changing. james. tiberius. kirk. respects. women.

7. follow these links for romance & sex headcanons. 

[oselatra]

Bitter pill

Arkansas is second in the nation when it comes to opioid prescription rates. Those numbers are edging down, but some say the worst of the epidemic may be yet to come.

Though Lane Huie was 27 years old when he died in a car crash on July 4, 2013, his mother, Darla Huie, never knew her son as a fully functional adult. She could see his potential, of course, as every parent can see the potential in their child. But from the time he was 17 years old, the man he might have been otherwise was always distorted by a crippling, seemingly unbreakable addiction to opioids.

When he was 17, Lane hurt his hand playing football, a fracture that would take, at most, a month or two to heal for a boy his age. He left the doctor's office with a prescription for the opioid pain reliever hydrocodone. Within a week, his mother said, she saw a change in him, from a happy-go-lucky boy to a person she almost didn't recognize. Within a month, she said, he was hopelessly addicted.

"We didn't have the skill set to deal with it," Huie said. "We didn't know what we were looking at, and didn't understand the physiology of the drug. Because we'd never been exposed to it, we didn't know. Lane was a happy kid who traveled and had a good time, a very friendly person, excited and exuberant about every day. He went from that to angry and screaming. We had no clue what happened."

He would remain an addict for the rest of his life, in and out of rehab and in trouble with the law as he tried to keep pace with his habit. Eventually, he turned to heroin.

Once, after he finished yet another rehab, Huie said she came into his room to find him loading a shotgun to kill himself. She wrestled the gun away. "He was like, 'Mom, I can't,' " Huie recalled. " 'I can't fight this. I don't know who I am. I've fucked up my life. Nobody in our family has ever been to jail. What am I doing? I don't know how to handle this. My brain, I fight it all day. I'll get up and I'll say, I'm not doing this. I'm not going to do it ... . I tell myself, I'm going to have a good day, a great day. I'm going to make them proud. By 3 o'clock, you know how you get a song stuck in your head? It starts playing, Just do it. You did good. Just do it. Do it again. Put yourself out of your misery and go to sleep. ' "

Lane was making one last, desperate attempt to wean himself off opioids cold turkey, Huie said, when he died. She believes he may have had a seizure behind the wheel, brought on by withdrawal. She uses a metaphor about the last 15 years of her life that would be heartbreakingly beautiful if it wasn't so tragic: that it was as if she spent a decade crawling along in the dust behind her son, begging him to get well, and has spent the five years since she lost him trying to stand.

"You can't sleep," she said. "You don't have healthy relationships. I would literally have friends wanting me to do things, and the whole time I was thinking, 'What about Lane? Is Lane OK? What's wrong with him? Asking for help. Trying to help him. Going to counseling. Sending him to rehab.' "

R.J. Looney also knows what it is to fear for an addicted loved one. His son, Zachary, now 29, has been in prison since 2016 on theft charges, which Looney said Zachary committed to support an opioid addiction. After becoming addicted to opioids purchased on the street when he was about 14, the younger Looney progressed from snorting crushed pills to injecting heroin when he was a junior in high school.

"It just led to the destruction of his teenage years," his father said. "Everything he lived for was just for getting high. ... He stole firearms, chainsaws, window air-conditioning units, debit cards, anything that wasn't nailed down." At one point, Looney said, his son blew through a $2,500 college fund in a single week. Finally, in 2015, after losing his job and unable to find money to feed his habit, he committed a robbery in the parking lot of Little Rock's White Water Tavern. Arrested, convicted and sentenced to five years of probation, he landed in prison last year after violating the terms of his probation.

With his son scheduled to be released at the end of April, Looney knows the feeling of being trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea: He wants Zach to be free, but knows that once he's released, he may return to his addiction. A wave of recent overdoses and deaths by heroin users in Little Rock is constantly on Looney's mind.

"Really early, before I go to work, is when the black dog wakes me up and I start thinking about things," he said. "It's always in the back of my mind: the recidivism rates that I've read about. ... I've always said, 'If you love an addict, you'll get to a point where it's about self-preservation, so they don't take you down with them.' They will. You can give up on trust. There's no way I'd ever trust him again, unless it's after years of being clean. But the two emotions you can't give up on are love and hope. That's about all you've got left for them. You always love them. You always hope they'll get better."

Stories like these are the tip of a looming iceberg the state and nation are only starting to comprehend. America consumes over 80 percent of the global output of prescription opioids, and 99 percent of the world's hydrocodone. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Arkansas has the second highest legal opioid prescription rate in the nation: 114.6 prescriptions for every 100 people in the state. Only doctors in Alabama prescribe more opioids. Greene County in Northeast Arkansas has the highest prescription rate in the state, with 122 prescriptions per 100 people. In counties on the other end of the spectrum, the rates are half that. Troublingly, nobody — not addiction specialists at the University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences, nor the state Department of Health, nor the state drug director — can definitively say why there is a difference in prescription rates from county to county.

What is known, according to the health department's Prescription Drug Monitoring Program, is that doctors and pharmacists in Arkansas legally prescribed and distributed a staggering 235.9 million opioid pills in 2016 alone. Forty-six percent of Arkansans over the age of 18 filled at least one prescription for an opioid drug that year.

With all those pills floating around, opioid theft for illicit use — what police and policymakers call "diversion" — is rampant. The CDC ranks Arkansas first in the nation when it comes to children aged 12 to 17 who have misused opioids. While opioid-related deaths seem to be edging downward since the introduction of prescription monitoring, opioid overdoses in Arkansas have tripled since 2000.

Meanwhile, a study released last March of 1.2 million UAMS patient records collected between 2006 and 2015 found that the likelihood of becoming dependent on opioids long term increases by leaps and bounds with every day beyond three that a patient takes the drugs for pain. The study found that patients who were prescribed an 11-day supply of opioid drugs had a 1 in 4 chance of still being on opioids a year later.

In short, it's clear we have a problem that isn't going to be resolved with thoughts and prayers. Just how to go about solving it, how it got so bad in the first place, and how to pay for a fix is still being debated, but things are moving quickly now. Recent months have seen the Arkansas State Medical Board working on new guidelines to try to rein in prescription rates and problem prescribers, the Attorney General's office announcing it intends to investigate drug manufacturers and bring charges if warranted, and the Association of Arkansas Counties filing a federal lawsuit — and planning to soon file a series of further suits in state courts — against some of the nation's most prominent drug companies and distributors.

Meanwhile, many chronic pain patients with debilitating injuries are terrified that a crackdown will take away the painkillers they say allow them to lead something approaching a normal life. While efforts such as the state's Prescription Drug Monitoring Program have led to an overall decrease in the amount of "doctor shopping" — hopping from one doctor to another while trying to get opioid prescriptions — and a historic drop in the number of opioid overdoses in the state, state Drug Director Kirk Lane and others the Times spoke with say they believe the worst days of the epidemic are still ahead, as regulatory efforts and stricter prescription guidelines make pharmaceutical drugs like hydrocodone and oxycodone harder to get from doctors and more expensive when diverted to the streets and as prescription opioid abusers turn to much cheaper heroin — some of it laced with the brutally potent synthetic opioid fentanyl.

Whether those efforts succeed in moving the ball on opioids in a positive direction or not long term, it's clear that the issue is much more complicated than old-fashioned pill mills.

A plague in a bottle

Though doctors have known the addictive and often deadly consequences of using opioid drugs since the days when snake oil containing opium and heroin was readily available on drugstore shelves, the last two decades of the 20th century saw a wholesale rethinking of opioids and their addictive properties in the medical community, including the idea that the powerful drugs could be safely prescribed for temporary "acute" pain and chronic pain without fear of addiction. As seen in a number of lawsuits filed across the country over the last 10 years, including the one filed in late 2017 by the counties association, a case can and has been made that much of that rethinking by physicians, and the attendant explosion in opioid prescription rates, corresponds with a decades-long, multimillion-dollar marketing push by pharmaceutical companies beginning in the 1990s, the goal of which appears to have been to convince physicians that no patient need ever be in pain, that opioid painkillers are neither as dangerous or addictive as previous generations believed, and that those drugs could therefore be safely prescribed for pain other than that experienced by late-stage cancer or hospice patients.

The counties association filed suit last December in federal court against several of the biggest makers and distributors of opioid painkillers, including Purdue Pharma, Janssen Pharmaceuticals, McKesson Corp. and others. The lawsuit calls the effort to sell physicians on the idea that opioid medications were safe and nonaddictive a "marketing scheme designed to persuade doctors and patients that opioids can and should be used for chronic pain." It reads like the bleak color commentary on a slow-motion train wreck, laying out the history of how opioids came to be so widely prescribed in Arkansas and America, including claims that drug companies spent millions to downplay the risks of opioid addiction and dependency by using paid "opinion leaders," employing "front groups" masquerading as impartial patient advocates, spending tens of millions of dollars to advertise in medical journals and using drug reps to make the case for shaky concepts such as "pseudoaddiction," the idea that if patients taking opioids were found to be engaging in behaviors indicating addiction, that meant their pain was not well managed and their dosage should be increased. Citing what she called "staggering" statistics, Arkansas Attorney General Leslie Rutledge announced Jan. 24 that her office would bring in extra legal help to investigate several yet-to-be-named opioid manufacturers and will potentially bring lawsuits or charges against those firms if warranted.

The counties association lawsuit points out several of what seem to be damning facts: The named defendants spent over $14 million to advertise their products in medical journals in 2011, triple what they'd spent in 2001, and spent $168 million in 2014 alone to market opioid drugs to doctors through "detailers" — friendly drug company sales reps who visit physicians in their offices — double what they'd spent on opioid detailing in 2000.

"Manufacturer defendants also identified doctors to serve, for payment, on their speakers' bureaus," the lawsuit goes on to say, "and to attend programs with speakers and meals paid for by Manufacturer defendants." Among other damages, the lawsuit calls for funds specifically to pay for opioid addiction treatment costs in Arkansas in coming years.

Colin Jorgensen is litigation counsel for the Association of Arkansas Counties Risk Management Services. He said there are obvious parallels between the lawsuits filed against opioid manufacturers and those filed in the past against Big Tobacco, but also significant differences.

"The parallels are mostly in the legal theory and the misrepresentation in the marketing by the companies," Jorgensen said. "That's what's similar between tobacco and the opioids — the deliberate deceit about the addictive nature of these products, knowing full well the truth. The damages are not exactly the same. We've got a lot more local-level impact this time with the opioid epidemic than with tobacco. ... We need education, prevention and treatment, and all three of those things are extremely expensive, and they're best deployed at the local level." The price tag for that intervention could easily run into the billions of dollars nationwide, Jorgensen said.

Jorgensen said he believes physicians have been duped about opioids just like patients, but are quickly working to turn things around. "The awareness in the medical profession is shifting dramatically," he said. "I think you're probably going to see a pretty substantial drop-off in the prescription rates and things moving forward. The doctors are in a tough position because they don't necessarily have effective alternative treatment, but they're learning now that [opioid] treatment is ineffective, too."

Association of Arkansas Counties Executive Director Chris Villines said the financial and social impact on counties and cities in the state is shaping up to be much more costly than that posed by tobacco addiction in the past. "We didn't fill our jails with people using tobacco," he said. "We didn't have to go out and police the street for tobacco users. [Tobacco] really had more of a direct impact on health care than anything. This plague has had an impact all over: the court system, the county hospital, the county jail, policing, law enforcement, coroners, everybody."

Villines noted that while there is a clear need to curb the prescription opioid rate in the state, slowing the supply does nothing to stop the demand from those addicted to opioids. Like several the Times talked to, Villines fears that attempting to restrict the number of legal prescriptions without a corresponding increase in funding for drug treatment — money that is going to be very hard to find in a cash-strapped state like Arkansas — may well result in a new scourge.

"Between 2005 and 2009, Mexican heroin [production] increased from 8 metric tons to 50 metric tons," he said. "Almost all of that increase is going straight to those who are getting off of opioids. So if we talk about the solution being, 'Let's cut back the flow of opioids,' we're not helping. We're actually driving addicts more quickly into illegal heroin than we would be if we had a good plan in place to help get them off of opioids."

Jorgensen said the association plans to file lawsuits somewhat similar to its federal action in state courts this spring. He said the fact that the vast majority of the counties in Arkansas — 70 out of 75 as of this writing — quickly signed on to the forthcoming state lawsuits shows the extent of the problem in both cities and rural areas, and officials' frustration with the issue. The association will also be partnering with the Arkansas Municipal League on the state lawsuits; the municipal league has signed up over 100 cities across the state, including the largest cities, Jorgensen said.

He and Villines said that in talking to groups around the state, they're seeing that police and leaders understand that it's impossible to arrest their way out of the opioid crisis, and are willing to view opioid addicts as victims of a scheme rather than criminals.

Though Jorgensen said it's his belief, based on the available evidence, that drug companies set out to get people hooked on dangerous opioid painkillers, he said the lawsuit need only prove the companies knew their drugs were dangerous and addictive and deceptively marketed to prevail. The lawsuit is not about trying to tell doctors how to practice medicine, he said.

"Ending the deceptive marketing scheme and hopefully enjoining and compelling the companies that produce these pills and the companies that distribute these pills to market them truthfully, that may change the culture among doctors," he said.

The candyman

Retired for the past three years, Benton physician Dr. Sam Taggart has long been something of a Paul Revere on the subject of opioids. Both a medical historian (he'll soon publish his second book on the history of the profession in Arkansas) and an early proponent of the idea of "wellness" — the idea that if you eat right, get exercise, stay near an ideal weight, don't smoke and follow other healthy guidelines, the body doesn't need much medicine — he said that the idea of "a pill for everything" has been pushed by the pharmaceutical industry since the turn of the 20th century, starting with vitamins. The result, he said, is that America is a drug culture that has been training its population to look for health in pill form for over 100 years. The problem with that, according to Taggart, is that the pharmaceutical industry is in the market to create customers, not to produce cures.

Since the opioid boom, Taggart believes, the result of that century-long training of American consumers has come home to roost in nearly every Arkansas city and town. "A lot of towns have a candyman," he said. "They have a guy that everybody in town knows: If you need something, you go to this guy. I honestly didn't want to be that person under any circumstances. So I began very early thinking about those kinds of issues and saying, 'How do you keep that from happening?' "

While it was starting to change by the time he left his practice, thanks in part to the state's Prescription Drug Monitoring Program and other efforts, Taggart said the local "candyman" would often persist for years because those physicians flirt with the edges of the law and Medical Board regulations. "I don't want you to misunderstand me, and please don't misrepresent this: I'm not being judgmental of my fellow physicians, except to say that, in every community, and I believe this is still true ... if you go into the drug-seeking community, there is a network and they know who prescribes drugs," Taggart said. "They know who will do it, they know where they can get it, they know how much they can get."

Part of being the change he hoped to see in the world was insisting on something that has grown much more common among doctors in recent years: that chronic pain patients in his care be evaluated by a chronic pain management specialist. "If it looked like they had a problem," Taggart said, "something like a severe back problem and there was nothing that could be done, or a severe hip or leg problem and nothing could be done about it, what I would do is start warning them after about three weeks, 'This is not long term. We're not going to do this long term.' I wouldn't write big, long-term prescriptions. I'd say, 'If we decide that this is what you're going to need, I'm going to send you to a chronic pain management specialist,' but with a caveat: 'OK, we'll let them evaluate you. If they think you need this medicine, I'll continue writing the prescription.' "

During his years in practice, Taggart refused to hear the pharmaceutical companies' sales pitch on opioids. As early as 1983, Taggart said, he stopped seeing "detailers" who asked to come to his office to market drugs. Once, Taggart said, most drug company sales reps were former pharmacists who were informed about medicine and patient care. But during the early 1980s, that changed. "They'd send out pretty young girls, pretty young guys, and they'll send them out with a study that might have six people in it, which is no study at all," Taggart said. "They have direct access. They come right into the doctor's office. They bring food for the whole office staff. They're salesmen. It's sales, is all it is." The sales pitch often worked, Taggart said, because doctors are just suceptable to a friendly face offering direct marketing as anyone else.

"For a long time, they provided all kinds of freebies," Taggart said. "They would hire physicians to be speakers at meetings: 'We want you to be part of our staff.' That part was ultimately outlawed, I think. I was never part of that. I was never interested in it. I had way too much to do and I wasn't interested in what they had to say. I'd rather get my information from a reasonably objective source."

Denise Robertson has served as administrator of the health department's Prescription Drug Monitoring Program since it started in 2012. The job has given her a daily view of the flowering of the opioid crisis in Arkansas. Established by Act 304 of 2011, the program collects daily reports from pharmacies, allowing doctors and pharmacists to see with just a few keystrokes whether a patient is engaging in "doctor-shopping" behavior to get more pills from multiple physicians.

Act 820, passed in the last legislative session, made it mandatory for doctors to consult the drug-monitoring program before writing opioid prescriptions, and for pharmacists to update the registry whenever they fill a prescription. The change from voluntary to mandatory has been controversial, Robertson said, but it is helping to slow the spiraling opioid prescription rate in Arkansas. She noted that since the program was instituted, there has been a 20 percent decrease in prescription opioid overdose deaths in the state. That's the fourth largest decrease nationwide, according to the CDC.

Robertson said one issue that drives opioid abuse in Arkansas is the fact that Missouri is the only state in the nation without some form of prescription drug monitoring system. The Missouri legislature has made attempts to establishing a system for tracking opioids in their last three sessions, but has failed each time (lacking guidance from the state, St. Louis County and bordering counties finally started their own system, which has helped). Looking at Arkansas county-by-county maps of overdose rates, Robertson said, you can actually see the deadly results of addicts hopping the border into Missouri to doctor shop. "You'll see a lot of that concentrated up there on the border of Missouri," she said. "We have no idea, really, what's going on across that border."

Drug Director Lane agrees that Missouri's lack of a drug-monitoring program is contributing to the problem in Arkansas. He said the impact of prescription monitoring can be seen in the two states' opioid overdose death rates. "Before we started our program, we ranged about 12 deaths for every 100,000 people," he said. "Missouri tracked right along with us. We were side by side, Missouri and Arkansas. We kicked into our PDMP, and our death rate remains the same today. Based on the current figures, we have around 12.5 people per 100,000. Missouri is at 20 [deaths per 100,000] now. So they have grown. We've maintained."

Formerly the chief of police in Benton, Lane has seen firsthand the impact of the opioid crisis in the state. He said that prescription opioids go for about a dollar per milligram on the street. "If you have a 10- to 15-pill-a-day habit, you can add up the money there," he said. "It comes from taking from medicine cabinets, stealing or other criminal activity to raise the money and feed the substance abuse disorder. Eventually, you move to heroin because it's cheaper. The supply of heroin is coming into the state very rapidly now."

Because smugglers have upped supply to meet demand, an amount of injectable heroin to satisfy an opioid habit that would cost thousands of dollars a day goes for about $10 in Arkansas, Lane said.

Much of the heroin seized in Arkansas in recent years, he said, tests positive for fentanyl, a synthetic opioid that's 50 to 100 times more potent than morphine and that — unlike heroin — can be absorbed through the skin. The drug, normally only used in patch form by late-stage cancer patients, is now being synthesized in cartel labs in Mexico and smuggled into the U.S. in tonnage quantities, sold either alone or mixed into heroin. Because of fentanyl's potency, the fact that it looks identical to heroin and has the ability to pass through the skin, Lane said, the drug has been linked to overdoses across the nation in not only opioid users, but cops, drug dogs and family members who stumbled upon a loved ones' stash.

"Where heroin will be fatal slowly by slowly depressing the respiratory system," Lane said, "fentanyl acts very quickly. And carfentanil, which we haven't seen in the state yet to my knowledge, is 100 times more potent than fentanyl." Carfentanil, which has popped up in some opioid hotspots around the country, is normally used by veterinarians as a surgical anesthetic for very large animals, including elephants.

The risk of addicts turning to heroin, the danger of fentanyl and the attendant overdose deaths and needle-related diseases that will result, are why Lane believes the worst days of the crisis in Arkansas are still ahead. It's part of the reason he helped lead the state's effort to make the lifesaving drug Narcan, which can temporarily reverse an opioid overdose and give first responders time to rush a patient to the hospital, available over the counter in the state. First responders have used Narcan to save over 30 overdose victims in Little Rock alone so far this year, including a 17-year-old who overdosed in a bathroom at Little Rock Central High School. Lane said the state has received $3.5 million in grants to provide Narcan to first responders in the state over the next five years. The state's drug takeback program — online at artakeback.org — has 194 secure boxes in the state where patients can dispose of their unused narcotic drugs 24 hours a day. Lane said that between the boxes and statewide takeback events — the next one is Saturday, April 28 — the state has collected and destroyed 131 tons of prescription drugs — enough to fully load over three tractor trailer rigs. About a third of the surrendered drugs, Lane said, have been opioids.

Lane couldn't give a definitive answer as to why the prescribing rates are so high in certain counties. The issue of prescription rates, he said, is multifaceted and the reasons may vary from county to county. "Some Arkansas counties have a lot of retired folks who move here from other states," he said. "Older people have more medical problems than younger people and because of that, they have more medications than younger people. So that may be part of the issue on the prescribing rates. Some of it could be the physicians themselves. ... Some of the problem [may be due to] the older prescribers, who are set in their ways and were trained that opioids were OK in the past. Basically, trying to retrain them and reprogram them to the latest techniques to deal with the opioid epidemic is a big push, not only in Arkansas, but in the U.S."

One issue as the state moves forward, Lane said, is that Arkansas is in the bottom 10 percent in the nation when it comes to the availability of drug treatment, a problem especially acute in rural areas.

"Good medically assisted treatment isn't just giving somebody Suboxone or methadone [drugs that mimic opioids but don't cause a high] and letting him walk out the door with a prescription," he said. "Good medical-assisted treatment is the constant monitoring of somebody, urinalysis, and also a piece with peer recovery — not only getting that person clean but maintaining that sobriety and giving them tools." There is also, Lane said, the issue of breaking the stigma of addiction so people can come for help without shame. For a lot of opioid addicts, he said, using is not about getting high; it's just about feeling normal and not getting sick. While that drive can cause addicts to engage in criminal behavior, Lane said that people who have been punished need to have a way back to the community and a sense of worth.

"We as a society have to understand that and give these people a second chance," Lane said. "It's kind of hard for a longtime cop to say that, but it's a realization of the problem we have and what pushes people into these behaviors. It really takes all of us working together to understand the problem. We created the problem. We can fix it. ... You can't turn addiction off like a light switch. You just can't do it. It takes hard work and support, and it takes a community to solve the problem."

Dr. Rick Smith chairs the UAMS Department of Psychiatry and serves as director of the hospital's Psychiatric Research Center. He works with patients to break the cycle of opioid addiction every day. "You've got a situation where there are a lot of pills out there. A huge number. Too many pills are out there that are not taken," he said. "There's this diversion phenomena, so the adolescents and young adults get hold of them, and then they end up graduating from pharmaceutical grade opioids to heroin. There used to not be a market in Arkansas for heroin. Heroin would pass through Arkansas on the way to Chicago and other cities up north, but there wasn't enough market to stop here. Now there's plenty of market to stop here because [addicts] can't afford the prescription-grade opioids."

While it's impossible to determine who will become addicted to opioids and who won't, Smith said there is clearly a genetic susceptibility to opioids in some people linked to their body's activation of opioid receptors in the brain — the golf-tee-like sockets that opioid molecules plug into.

Educating or reeducating doctors about the danger of the drugs is key, Smith said. In the past, doctors were often misinformed about opioids during their initial training. "The pharmaceutical reps were saying: These drugs aren't dangerous and folks aren't going to get addicted to it if they're having post-surgery or post trauma [pain], which is just not true," Smith said. "I was taught that in my fellowship. I did my fellowship in 1981, and we were taught that if somebody was given a pain medicine after surgery or after trauma, they would almost never get addicted to it."

Smith said there is a common euphemism for the four categories of doctors who prescribe too many painkillers: those who are dated in their knowledge, those who are duped by their patients into overprescribing, those who are disabled by an addiction to medication themselves, and, the last category, which Smith said is much more rare — doctors who are dishonest and overprescribing for personal gain. "The Prescription Drug Monitoring Program helps sort those out, especially the last group," Smith said, "which is really the responsibility of the DEA and the Medical Board. Reports are sent from the PDMP to the board."

Helping patients get off long-term opioids must be done slowly and carefully, Smith said. The approach that works best right now is what's called medication-assisted treatment. "The one that we're hoping works and gets widespread use in Arkansas is treatment with Suboxone," he said. "That can be done in a primary care physician's office. They have to have counseling as well as this drug in tapering doses, tapered over a number of weeks. If they're on really high doses of opioids, you have to lower the doses of opioids first, and then get them on Suboxone."

Asked whether prescribing medical cannabis instead of opioids for pain might help in solving the opioid crisis in the state, Smith said he doesn't believe so. "We know from research that it's a gateway drug," he said. "Adolescents especially will start with marijuana because our society believes that marijuana is harmless or even helpful. So they start using marijuana and they oftentimes graduate to other drugs. It's not always, but it's statistically significant."

Smith believes the state is moving in the right direction to combat the opioid crisis, taking very aggressive action and instituting programs, like the PDMP, which help stem the tide. "The health department has taken a strong lead, the Arkansas State Medical Board is, the Medical Society is," he said. "Everybody is concerned about the problem, and I don't see anybody really holding back. It's just a very complex problem. We shouldn't and can't blame this on the patients. The patients are suffering. We have to put the patients' best interest first. We can't just ban the drugs. When I had a leg injury, I needed the medicine for a day or two ... There's a battle about: Is this a moral flaw? That's the stigma. No it's not. This is physiological. This is brain physiology — brain and body physiology."

The fall

The state Medical Board met Feb. 1 to hear comments on a proposed regulation that would give the board the power to revoke or suspend the medical license of any doctor found to have prescribed "excessive amounts of controlled substances to a patient, including the writing of an excessive number of prescriptions for an addicting or potentially harmful drug." As defined in the proposed rule, "excessive" wouldn't include medications given to patients in hospice, being treated for active cancer, emergency inpatient care or end-of-life care. For the treatment of acute, temporary pain from surgery or an injury, the regulation would define "excessive" as any pain medication prescription written for more than seven days "without detailed, documented medical justification." The board will hold another public comment session on the proposed regulation in April.

As the audience for the meeting filed into the chamber in the Victory Building in downtown Little Rock, it was easy to see which people were there to speak against the proposal — the half-dozen or so, many of them older, who hobbled in on walkers or canes. One man was girdled with an extensive black back brace. One woman in a surgical mask groaned as she lowered herself gingerly into a chair.

Along with Drug Director Lane — who, citing the UAMS study of addiction rates, advocated for the board to go further and limit opioid prescriptions for acute pain to five days — and Smith and other experts, several patients spoke before the board, saying that opioids had curbed their pain enough that they were able to live fuller lives following a crippling injury. Nearly every patient who spoke said their doctors, fearing repercussions from the Medical Board, had cut back on the amount of opioid medication they would prescribe. Some said they had been cut back to a point where they could no longer function. One patient, on opioids for a back injury for over 20 years, related that without the drugs, he feared he would have to go on permanent disability, close his small business and put his employees out of work. Board members, saying they wouldn't revoke the license of a doctor prescribing long-term opioids for legitimate chronic pain cases, repeatedly encouraged patients who spoke of skittish physicians to have their doctors call the board for reassurance and education about the regulations concerning opioid prescriptions for chronic pain.

Kelly Jones sat and listened as long as she could bear it, then left the room in tears, saying that the board would do nothing for a person like her. In the hallway, she leaned on a walker and cried as she related her story of living two decades in constant pain. In 1998, while hiding her children's Christmas presents, Jones said, she fell 10 feet from an attic to a concrete carport, rupturing nine disks in her back and neck and crushing an ankle so badly it had to be pieced back together with screws. Since then, bounced from surgeon to specialist, she has been in constant pain that turns to agony without high doses of opioid medication. Bent and wan, an oxygen hose threaded around her head to her nose, Jones said she spends most of her life in bed, the windows of her room heavily curtained because squinting in sunlight gives her headaches, thanks to the neck injury. Like several who spoke, Jones said her doctor has recently cut back her opioid medications, fearing his medical license might be in jeopardy if he continued to prescribe high doses. Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Jones said she and other chronic pain patients are being punished for the crimes of others.

"It's like I'm paying for the sins of what other people have done with their medicines," she said. "I can't be there to control what other people do with their medicines. But because they can't control themselves, I'm paying for it. I can't sit in there any longer. I kept asking them, 'Can I please talk? I have to go home and go to bed.' They keep bringing up people from the governor's office to talk. They won't let people talk."

She knows through being in pain management, she said, that she will never be pain free, but opioids allow her to at least control her pain. She prays for cancer, Jones said, so that at least she can get her medicine and be pain-free again for a little while before she dies. She said the members of the Medical Board will never understand pain like that.

"I pray to die," she said. "I pray every night to die. My husband actually took the guns out of the house because he was tired of listening to me threaten to do it. ... I'm on scraps of medicine. I can't live my life like this. They don't understand, because unless you have chronic pain, you will not understand what people with chronic pain are talking about. I can't talk anymore. I have to go."

At that, Jones turned and hobbled away, shuffling, pushing her walker along the carpeted hallway until she rounded the corner and disappeared from view, back to her darkened bedroom somewhere in Arkansas.

Bitter pill

[straighttalkbn1-blog]

Why I'm Vegan: A Reason I'd Never Considered Before

By Milly Hailstone

As I sit here at my desk eating breadsticks I feel compelled to tell you my vegan story. It's not going to be your usual plant-based tale, because as usual, I’ll be taking a look at the surface, and what lurks below. Aside from being vegan for animals, our world, and my health, there’s another reason. But I'll begin with the basics.

 The Moral Side of My Food Choices

 Whenever there was a piece of an animal on my plate I felt guilty. I pulled this bag of guilt around me every day, propping it up at the dinner table next to me. I was raised to eat meat and consume dairy like most people. So, what changed?

After I discovered what really happens at slaughterhouses, and when I started to look past animals packaged up as 'food', I discovered an unsettling reality - mass killings of innocent, sentient beings.

 Then, I discovered that animal agriculture is destroying the world by accelerating global warming. And then, I discovered meat and dairy are ridiculously unhealthy and causes many diseases.

 So, I really had no choice. The taste of bacon is not better than death, destruction, or illness. (This is the perfect response to when some idiot says “bacon tho”.)

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It’s hilarious that veganism is called an extreme diet, when actually what’s extreme is mass killing, rainforest destruction, and poverty. Did you know there are enough grain and soy to feed the whole world? But, it gets fed to farm animals instead, which can only feed the few.

 The Psychological Side of My Food Choices

 When I dug a little deeper I discovered another reason.

 I’ve been a control freak all of my life, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned this on this blog. When I lose control, my mind becomes a frenzy, I have no self-control and stuff gets blurry. So, I make lists and plans and commit to living my life in a way that’s good for me. But, ya know, it’s not always been like this. You’ve read my How to Get Your Sh*t Together articles, right?

 I love to eat. I always have, and I grew up with my mum telling me, "Your eyes are bigger than your stomach!” Lucky, I also had a fast metabolism and love of sport which counteracted my love of grub.

 But, when I was a teenager something changed. I noticed the habits of my mum, she’s obsessed with being healthy and only eats just enough - she says that is all she needs because she is small.

 Then, there was the pressure from magazines - What is a bikini body? Did I have one? By this time, I’d been convinced by the media that I must look a certain way, and I felt destroyed when I looked in the mirror and saw different. Inside those glossy pages lurked something dark and destructive.

 What I saw wasn’t what other people saw. I saw flaws and stretch marks looking back at me - and yet to others, I was perfectly skinny. I think this was around the time of the Size 0 obsession. The heroin chic of the 90s, if you will.

I started calorie counting, I got addicted to the myfitnesspal app and limited my calorie intake to just 1,000 per day. Instead of hunger acting as an indicator that I needed to eat, I turned this feeling into a reward. If I felt hungry I knew I was doing it right.

 I had a friend who was on the apple diet. It wasn’t just me who this affected, it was my whole generation- the girls and the guys. Everyone was judging everyone, and we were brand new to social media - a place where others would (and still do) tear you down to make themselves feel better about their own insecurities.

 When I think back to these dieting days, I realize that I am vegan to stay in control. It’s a direct reflection of the way I used to limit myself around food. Am I trying to gain back control in this fast-paced world? Or does the limiting side of veganism mirror an unhealthy eating pattern I picked up in my teen years?

 In the gap between my fitness pal and veganism, I had little self-control. At 19, I went to uni unable to cook. I’m pretty sure half of my student loan was spent on Pizza Hut and McDonald's. Somewhere during this junk food diet, I found veganism for the first time. I didn't last though, as I just wasn't ready. I think I ate bread and potatoes for 2 weeks, then swiftly gave up.

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After Uni, I worked in restaurants where I had easy access to unhealthy food. With 12-hour shifts you often don’t have enough time to eat and while working at Wagamama I would only eat one meal per day - usually a plate of fried noodles or katsu curry. When you work long days on your feet, one meal isn’t enough.

 I needed order, and again veganism gave that to me - this time it stuck. I'd watched all the life-changing documentaries, and had enough emotion tied to this cause to make my life align with my new beliefs.

 While I maintain that it's one of the best decisions I've ever made, it's interesting that my reasoning behind it might be more than what's on the surface. Is veganism a way to validate to not eating certain kinds of food? Or, is it a healing process?

 It's safe to say I'm no longer counting calories or tracking every bite with a toxic app.  In fact, I'm feeling the healthiest I ever have - physically and mentally. Whether or not veganism has strange links to my unhealthy past, it's certainly a lifestyle filled with positivity.

 Fellow vegans, I'd love to know your story. If you'd like to write a guest post on the topic of veganism, please email me at milly@straighttalkbn1.com