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hourlymbti · 2 years

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MBTI for Self-Development and how Typology may worsen Psychological Understanding

Self-understanding is an active and lifelong series of hypotheses. The learning process is often more insightful than the validity of the initial conclusion. Sometimes being uncertain is something to be proud of — it's a form of cautiousness.

Firstly, this post is obviously meaningless if you only wish to use mbti for fun (though you could argue you could use it for fun without entirely generalizing on others. You can skip to the 10th paragraph if you want to consider if you're too invested in typology or if it has become an unhealthy framework/obsession). That is, of course, a valid use of it. At least you're probably not one of those that pretend they are using it for some greater benefit without flaw.

Personality categories merely serve as general directions. The effectiveness of the tool depends on your understanding of it and how you apply your knowledge. While it can allow you to be more understanding of a higher variety of psychic constitutions as you will try to understand their reasoning or different things people take into consideration, the categories may make you more narrow-minded rather than help you in self-awareness and understanding others. How you look at the categories matters. Some enthusiasts hinder their own development by forcing themselves (or their perception of themself) into a strict box, or use personality theory for a desire to belong (a basic desire for an in-group, which will lead to sides rather than individuals). Stereotypes from classifications are a form of cognitive bias (the brain does this to simplify processing or to conserve energy. People naturally rely on generalizations subconsciously to a certain extent). It's easier to "understand" or digest who someone is when all you need is to put them in categories. The effort and mental process is simplified if you decide you can make a conclusion with what you have, regardless of how limited it is, so you don't need to dig deeper. The human brain is wired to feel certain things based on matters like shapes, sizes, arrangements, smells, colors (these feelings become drivers for motivation, thought, and action. It allows for a sense of urgency, danger, warmth, need. It's just so subtle, ordinary, and quick that people don't recognize how stimuli are processed and results in emotions which give direction to the mind. There's a natural bias based on visuals. This applies to weather, people, food. It's crucial for the mind to react to what is seen. The issue is that it will always play a role, to a certain extent. Clothes, how nice the day looks, store design, branding, profile pictures. The point is that stimuli, not just visuals, play too big of a role or play a role in matters that it shouldn't. Information does not need to be sufficient, it just needs to enter the brain for there to be a level of reaction. Perhaps you just want to make a judgement call, but when you don;t even know the essential facts of the situation, you don’t surely know what’s right or wrong. So you pretend to know the facts to assure yourself that this is the conclusion and it is right). You follow one conclusion, not bothering to see the rest. The human mind likes to make conclusions, but don't get trapped by the conclusions you make. Always be skeptical of them. Everyone is influenced by cognitive bias, but the step to improve on this is to look more into it and pay attention to details and possibilities that go against your assumptions (being inconclusive helps. The human mind is always subject to bias as it sets directions in conclusions even with the lack of information, so in order to minimize bias, we should take it slowly and make deliberate assessments, rather than rush to a conclusion. We should not accept what seems true/sound, we should not dismiss what seems false. We are giving more power to our biases in doing so. But of course, people do this daily, even those we may consider professional. We're talking about conclusions rather than credibility of data but it may be helpful to note that: ways to judge a source can be applied as ways to judge information. “The sheer existence of evidence is not enough to verify a claim. The absence of evidence, on the other hand, is reason to be skeptical”. We have “evidence”, but we need to question how narrow and limited our scope is. People focus on the spotlight, but ignore how much is covered in darkness. Sources want you to believe they are an authority on the topic. They’re not just meant to be informative, but often to be persuasive as well. So it is sometimes best to look away and shift the spotlight elsewhere in order to be able to criticize the source. Methods can be cross-checking with what other sources have to say about both the source and the data, looking into the details of your source’s background, checking their reasoning and evidence rather than treat the claim itself as sufficient as if it is a plain fact, checking how the evidence was collected, searching for the context of the evidence. We need to make habits in doing so rather than only check information that does not match our initial understanding or personal reasoning. Fact check and criticize everything, even the ones that do not trigger your internal alarm. While no one is perfect in realizing the truth, to accept this would make one more open to consider if their own knowledge is flawed, limited, or completely wrong. These may seem obvious or common sense, but the simplest of things need often to be reminded). Easier said than done since cognitive biases naturally cause stubbornness (the point is to conserve energy, so why take extra effort?). Then again, it is self-growth on its own to be able to notice how and why you have certain biases or misuses. Try to understand your insecurities. Some things you can look at are what motivations do you have when it comes to engaging in typology, what makes it interesting to you, are certain stereotypes entertaining/annoying (why?)? Do you care too much when someone makes a claim on what your group is like? Do you use typology for identity purposes (e.g. self-affirmation, validation, belongingness)? Do you take your type too seriously (e.g. get frustrated or feel bad when given the possibility of being a certain type or when a generalization of your type does not match you)? Do you feel uncomfortable with the thought that someone you really dislike would be the same type as you, perhaps causing you to claim that there's no way someone that immature or someone that awful could be an [your type]? Try to look at any negative uses of typology, or more specifically: self-perception getting too tied up to it. See how much these may relate to you or what you think of them.

When you rely on labels or categories to understand people, your perception of them pays more attention to aspects of them that fit this image, and less attention to the features beyond its scope. It’s easy to rely on type to tell you what someone can or cannot do (there is a reason that heuristics are a thing) or who they are. But rigid boxes merely encourage personal biases and doesnt enable the individual to be fully themself. Dont let personal motivations or others' beliefs create barriers for growth. Universal standards or generalizations erase the individual for what is supposed to be "the average" person. Stereotypes influence type assessments of the self and others, which means that the influence of stereotypes continues to reinforce itself in people’s beliefs. This includes vibe checks which is a form of stereotyping. If your mind associates being over-commanding, “karen-like”, and inconsiderate of others as ESTJ, then many of those you type as ESTJ will simply be people that you dislike. These personal experiences/anecdotes will verify those beliefs, causing a distorted view on what an ESTJ is. The community's view on each type is colored and it is not uncommon for people to be dictating how a type should be (e.g. ISFPs can’t be x, INFPs should be y). A vibe check can and often does quickly narrow down the perceived options. In type assessment, you type people based on your image of the type and create an echo chamber for yourself as the brain will say that these people you typed as XXXX confirm that your images are correct. This also applies to accusing people of being mistyped despite not knowing them well for reasons including flawed views on typing (their solution is wrong, but that neither confirms or denies their answer. Do not type someone or eliminate certain types as possibilities based on what you see from posts or comments).

Regardless of how scientific a certain typology is, it should be common sense that these are mere types....they are concepts that try to represent the group. To make psychology scientific means that we have to dilute subjective experiences into quantifiable variables so that we can find trends from the data (with this in mind, statistical anomalies exist. Don’t generalize). Besides this, the community’s type assessments or approaches to typing is most likely different from how the studies have been conducted to achieve the title of “scientific”. Psychology has plenty room for interpretation.

There are many things that are attributed to particular types such as hard work, focus on a goal, selfishness, emotional level, and a pleasant attitude. Many things are within the scope of functions, yes, but not so much dictative of type. Extreme stereotypes exist for all types since most are attracted to pop psychology for the simple classifications. This is partially influenced by memes with exaggerations and generalizations (or just those seeking validation or people to relate to. It is often that mbti and other pop psychology frameworks are used to validate certain beliefs or to feel less alone/receive a sense of finding alike individuals or being a part of a group by identifying with them. The ego latches on to anything about their "type", to an extent that it becomes a pillar to their identity or even self-esteem. These are not to be condemned, it's natural.. though it's worth considering the existence of these and how it may influence your views/stance). Those are typically what gets the most attention and numbers, thus is somewhat encouraged. Many times, those posts are serious, many times they are not. Regardless, people get exposed to these stereotypes enough for it to have an effect; seeing as they are accepted ideas, a part of them gradually overestimates how much truth they have (or perhaps they have an initial desire for it to be true). Then stereotypes reinforce themselves since one’s opinions and understanding of type will be influenced by what their mind associates with the categories (this is why anecdotal evidence is not very reliable). Memes create a form of groupthink in mbti communities. Sure typings dont actually exist for the most part. "Type" is pretty fluid rather than a rigid box. The brain desires simplicity (for efficient processing in exchange for cognitive bias) but the lines aren't clear-cut, things aren't black and white, it's full of nuances ("type" is more about cardinal points rather than boundaries). Type assessment will rely on the use of generalizations (habits, external manifestations, basic thought processes commonly associated with a type or function) which are used to infer on core processes (few issues are that multiple core processes can be tied to it rather than a simple one-to-one relationship, things are case-to-case, people can use any function, factors such as context and experiences are not completely known). It's a larger issue when it's about characters or celebrities since these cases most often leave no choice but to rely on stereotypes or speculation given insufficient information (though the same goes for most people you know irl, trying to unveil their type will require generalization). But regardless of information, typology enthusiasts are guided by a common desire to form a conclusion or a desire to say something with certainty, rather than an unsatisfactory "i dont know" or "we can't tell". PDB is full of questionable reasoning in type assessment because the environment encourages you to have a conclusion (To be fair, most type assessments are largely based on vibe checks so when someone has to explain their reasoning, it will not be the most sound. If every community's reasoning is equally bad, this will be most noticeable in PDB simply because PDB is the best place to find type assessments, which is its sole purpose. PDB represents how people actually type. It does also reveal certain biases against people who disagree as aside from "she's so XXXX" or "very Xx", you may find people saying "XXXX typers are just biased, they only typed that way because of this". There's an in-group vs out-group effect. Typically, most of the comments are claims, and even accusations, without arguments). This desire for conclusions can also be said about typing yourself. You may rush the process due to a feeling of missing out on something, falling behind, thinking it means not being "good" enough in theory or self-knowledge, whereas the rest of the community has their type badge

Many go to typology for some sort of “proof” for themself or their identity. They resort to identifying with a group, and anything said about that group is treated as something said about them. They get too invested and too personally attached to this. If you want to use it for practical purposes, you do not want to be someone who uses classifications to complain about others, or to feel better about yourself, to compare how “good” you are to a certain trait you care about as compared to others (e.g. when you see a ranking post, you feel some desire for your type to have a more desirable ranking even though your category is not representative of you, and neither are people’s perceptions on your category). The community has a habit of overinterpreting things—to attribute very minor details to type (this has to do with a desire to generalize or focus on superficial aspects for simplicity in application). It is easy to say that no type is inherently better or worse, but you cannot erase your mind of any stereotypes/generalizations you have associated with a type. Making assumptions is expected due to a natural desire to have a conclusion or to make absolute rules. Association of categories can make you develop an oversimplified, superficial, or black-and-white view on the human mind, but it is good to notice any of your negative uses of personality theory or attitude towards the mind and classifications. To notice any negative behaviors you have, and especially to discover how they are rooted in a personal insecurity is very beneficial for self-awareness. As with negative behavior in general, try to understand why you have certain biases/habits when it comes to personality classifications. Incrementally What personal incentives may you have in using personality classifications? What insecurities may have influenced your attitudes to personality type? What do these behaviors/insecurities of yours have to do with self-identity or your relationship with/view of the world? Dont expect self-awareness to just come quickly, expect this to take time.

The individual is unique in their mind and circumstances; this is something obvious but forgotten. If asked, most would agree. But that doesn't mean this is always applied to their though….the mind is inconsistent. Type is merely one tool/framework to understand your conscious attitude (+ the resulting unconscious compensation) and to search for areas of improvement. You can't do this effectively if the tool is misunderstood (not that understanding alone grants results). The theory can direct you to certain areas/paths of development. What Jung values is the integration of your whole. To do this, you need all of your functions to be “conscious” (perhaps there's some blur in even how you view your dominant since aspects of yourself that stand out to you will often be less normal for you. Ordinary moments and things you do all the time, things that feel natural or basic often won't be of as much interest, somewhat like breathing, blinking, or the delicate process of swallowing. They're very natural and you don't need to put much conscious thought in order to perform those actions). The dominant by default is the most conscious, while the inferior is the most unconscious and “untamed”. According to Jung, what makes a function conscious is that you are able to consistently control it with conscious intent as if it is tamed. It should additionally play a decisive role in the orientation of your conscious attitude rather than neglected or just come out to you as symptoms or afterthoughts/rumination. Self-awareness is generally important for maturity (not just in type). The more conscious you are of how your negative behaviors arise, the more you can deal with them and control yourself. For integration, viewing the other functions negatively will hinder this. You have to see their value and listen to them, but you also have to see the negatives/shortcomings of your dominant (its limits and how a predominance in that function causes a certain one-sidedness) and how the other functions can make up for this and provide some balance. You might also be able to understand how you (over)compensate for the shortcomings and insecurities of the dominant function (e.g. using the inferior but often in miniscule or ineffective ways to give you merely a sense/feeling of wholeness. You may even overestimate your ability and willingness to use it). Generally speaking, the other functions ultimately serve the goals of the dominant. It has the loudest and clearest voice. If another function contradicts the dominant’s wishes, it is very often rejected. The goal is to increase your willingness to use other functions in times when your dominant is telling you to do otherwise, but not to erase the dominant's role since it is your most natural and usually most developed (and easiest to develop) function.

How exactly you use type for growth is up to you. Advice meant for your type category does not necessarily fit you. There are general guidelines (e.g. “first develop the dominant, then aux”, or “observe unhealthy behaviors, especially in the inferior and how it relates to dominant one-sidedness) but that's just the skeleton of the blueprint. The rest must be decided by you, because your category is what is perceived to be the average person of your type. Advice for a category does not account for particular circumstances, personal needs & capabilities (priority of areas to develop at the current state), unique qualities (deviations). Though of course, your understanding of yourself isn’t perfect, especially on your shortcomings (and therefore areas of improvement). When it comes to help from others, they would need to know you well (under the surface). This can be beneficial for some sort of support or to provide details you may have overlooked or certain perspectives that may balance out a somewhat unrealistic or one-sided view of yourself. On the other hand, people dont necessarily know you well so it may at most be informative about how you act/behave (but you may be able to interpret data on your appearance to notice something about yourself, mainly on how your thoughts influence your behavior). Additionally, if anyone says something about you that you dislike, it may be informative about your insecurities (regardless of how true it is; your reaction matters).

(if it is of little practical use to you) Perhaps what's more important is: should you actually give a shit about typology? Do you get much enjoyment from it? Do you take it too seriously? Has it or the community brought you stress? Is it worth it? Does it matter?

Why should you engage in another heated argument about a character's type? Should we even be typing characters? Should we avoid placing labels on others so that we can focus on the individual rather than their supposed group? Should we act like there should be a strong conclusion as if we can claim the type absolutely? Must you always point out that a description, a meme, a tierlist or whatever, doesn't fit -you- (a fairly neutral description that claims generally rather than absolutely, as opposed to insulting a type), despite the fact that we're using categories and it will therefore be accurate to some but not others (This is different from saying that it's not much of a type thing or saying it doesn't make sense. The issue is when you desire everything about a type to represent YOU in particular)? Why must you be asking or arguing about which perceiver is the most fun, kind, quirky, or basic? It is a personal issue if you feel judged by a category or feel the need to judge others and use type as an excuse to do so. If someone is insulting or complimenting your type, they're not complimenting you, they're complimenting a concept. Unfortunately that means, your worth is tied to a separate entity (which is normal since self worth will always look at external objects as a reference, but just be aware of it). If someone compliments your friend for being mature, it is not you that should be flattered just because you perceive yourself to be mature as well and that you have a very similar character/type to your friend. Don't get too invested with typology. Whether that is caring a lot about what people think of each type, using type to pigeon-hole people you like and dislike, or using type to describe too many aspects in your life that your worldview becomes centered around a shakey and limited theory. Do not use it as a source of validation or self-satisfaction when these are mere categories that have nothing to do with you: an individual with your own life, actions, and character. Type doesn't matter, type isn't you. It is who YOU are, and what YOU choose to do that matters. Don't let these categories take that away from you.

My wording throughout the text is intentionally depicting a negative stance towards typology for you to try to consider how you may use it negatively. I don't see a point to this post if you're purely using it positively, but humans have biases so I doubt that’s mentally true. I believe there's a decent amount who do use it positively (though having net positive uses does not necessarily mean there are no negatives. There will always be some negatives. Well, it may be wrong to use the term net positive since that is usually about a single variable while in this case, there are multiple aspects for positive and negative uses, but it's fine since we aren't referring to something that we can effectively capture with quantitative measurements). Regardless, you should always consider if something is wrong, no matter how minor, with how you approach these personality categories. Everyone with have at least a bit of flaws. Don't be ashamed, be proud to be capable of acknowledging what others would find shameful. Insecurities are a crucial aspect of maturity. Being too insecure to acknowledge your insecurities and flaws is the main challenge of self-understanding and -growth.

Side note: Perhaps I have sounded harsh myself but you are not doing good by condemning people for being mistyped (it would also be a bit ironic if you’re the type to accuse others of being mistyped despite not knowing them well). Condemnation is not productive unless your goal is to make people less willing to admit their issues to themselves and others. In most cases, people are merely throwing a tantrum in such an act, not communicating something of any use. In this, they feel frustration, anger, or a similar emotion, and primarily wish to release these emotions. Lashing out is often thinly veiled as “helping” as it's a better image for them to be practically pursuing a result rather than being immature. Emotions are neither good nor bad. Emotions are the mind’s reaction to stimuli. Whether or not you agree with them, you have the responsibility to decide what you do with that reaction. Do not blindly follow emotions, but use them as leads by asking why those emotions came up. The ones you least understand can be the most dangerous. The reactions have a source, trace that source and figure out why and if it is justified, figure out what to do with this information. You can be mad at people’s fuck-ups, but what will your madness do to solve problems? There’s a fire raging inside you, wanting you to hand over the reins and let it unleash, but as valid as it may be, do not allow it to take over.

#mbti in application #mbti

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viewspear6 · 2 years

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Inhibition of lncRNA-NEAT1 sensitizes 5-Fu resistant cervical cancer cells through de-repressing the microRNA-34a/LDNA axis

05). Once the human population had been stratified simply by sexual category, exactly the MBP 5'-side TGGA d allele consistency ended up being drastically different, and also the consistency involving allele M from the DEACMP team had been drastically greater than that of the acute Denver colorado harming group of males (chihuahua(2) Is equal to Four.089, G Equates to 0.043, odds percentage Equates to 2.103, 95% confidence interval Equates to A single.014-4.363). The outcome established that there were connection in between MBP 5'-side TGGA n gene polymorphism and DEACMP, which allele T may improve the likelihood of incident within guy patients using DEACMP. DEACMP could be the response to interaction associated with environment and also genes.Neuroscience study over the past many years provides attained a powerful general opinion how the amygdala takes on an integral role inside sentiment control. Even so, many inquiries remain unanswered, especially concerning feeling perception. Depending on mnemonic hypotheses involving olfactory notion and in lighting from the remarkably associative mother nature associated with olfactory cortical processing, i propose a nerve organs cortical style of olfactory danger notion (my spouse and i.elizabeth., sensory-cortex-based menace belief): the actual olfactory cortex merchants threat requirements while obtained associative representations (AARs) shaped by means of aversive life experiences, thus permitting encoding of danger hints throughout physical processing. Rodent as well as human study throughout olfactory aversive fitness ended up being analyzed, suggesting learning-induced plasticity in the amygdala and the olfactory piriform cortex. Moreover, as aversive mastering becomes merged from the amygdala, your associative olfactory (piriform) cortex may possibly undergo (long-term) plastic material modifications, resulting in changed neurological result patterns that will underpin danger AARs. This kind of offer thus brings forward a sensory cortical walkway to be able to menace control (along with amygdala-based procedures), probably #Link# making up a different procedure fundamental the actual pathophysiology of anxiety as well as depressive disorders.A brand new Tubariomyces species via Croatia, Capital t. similis, will be described and highlighted. It is phenotypically not far from Big t. hygrophoroides but, based on a put together ITS-LSU rDNA analysis, phylogenetically unique.Included Bug elimination (IPM) can be a selection procedure accustomed to control pests that relies upon a lot of methods, which include cultural and also organic handle #Link# , that are methods that will save beneficial bugs as well as dust mites, then when essential, the usage of traditional insecticides. Nonetheless, systemic, soil-applied neonicotinoid insecticides are generally translocated to plant pollen and nectar associated with flowers, often with regard to several weeks, and could reduce success regarding flower-feeding beneficial pests. Imidacloprid seed-treated crops (3.05 mg Artificial intelligence (ingredient)/canola seedling along with 1.Only two mg AI/corn seed) translocate under Ten ppb for you to pollen and also nectar. Nonetheless, higher charges regarding soil-applied imidacloprid are utilized inside plant centers and concrete panoramas, like 3 hundred milligram AI/10 L #Link# (Three or more quart) weed as well as 69 gary Artificial intelligence placed on the soil within 61 (All day and in) centimetres diam. tree.

#Encorafenib #Gemcitabine #DNA

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radical-desiderium · 3 years

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You know, most of the time, I'm perfectly happy to call people by whatever names and pronouns they ask me to call them. I don't buy into the bullshit and I think gender identities are absurd because they're so external and dependent on presentation, despite anyone's claims to the contrary, but I can phone it in.

That being said, when people start twisting science to fit their narrative, that's when I will no longer play along with your game. I love science. I fucking love science with all my heart. And I want it to be respected. Transwomen do not have female bodies. Lions and clownfish cannot be trans. Mushrooms are not non-binary. These are facts, biology is a fascinating subject. Animals do not have a sense of gender identity because gender is a human social construct, applying the concept of gender widely to the animal kingdom or to all forms of life is anthropomorphization. When you use your surface-level knowledge of science to try to justify your sense of identity, you are shitting on the centuries of scientific effort that it took to get where we are. Science is not a bludgeoning tool to be used against those you disagree with. It is supposed to be about discovery and advancing knowledge. If it doesn't support your point, you shouldn't claim it does, simple as that.

And science isn't about proving your point. In fact, the majority of the time there is no such thing as "proving" points in science, only finding support for your hypotheses. Science shouldn't be about how much you like the results, it should be about how much you can trust the results.

How reliable was the study? How big was the sample size? How did they statistically analyze their data? Does the data actually support the conclusions made by the researchers? Can the study be replicated with similar results?

If you look through a study and they had a significant sample size, well-founded data and analysis, with other people successfully replicating their work, then you should put some credence into their conclusions (whether you like those conclusions or not). Science should not be a popularity contest nor should it be looked at like it's a fandom where you can pick and choose the parts of it you like while disregarding the rest.

I bet some of you reading this are wondering, "Hey, so if you're so pro-science, what would you do if they found scientific support for [insert trans issue here]?" Well, if I read through a study and found no fault in their data/analysis and I saw that study being peer-reviewed with other studies continuing the same line of questioning, then I would have no reason to believe that the study is wrong. I would accept their conclusions because science is not and should never be about my feelings.

#look i just want science conversations to stay scientifically accurate #science shouldn't pander or cater to anyone #science is inevitably influenced by culture & social trends but the point is to be aware of that & try to keep it as unbiased as possible

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michaelmilligan · 2 years

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📓 wait wait I wanna hear more about the midam musical idea :(

Aahsksldmdhs okay so!! This once again takes place in S15 (and once again after 15x08). Tfw 2.0 goes on a hunt surrounding a high school and they run into Michael and Adam. Those two live in that town and noticed the supernatural occurences at the school and so Michael promised he would solve this because Adam gets upset every time he hears about kids being hurt. So, very begrudgingly and sitting a little cramped in the Impala, Michael and Adam agree to team up with the others (Michael mostly doesn't want to and while Adam isn't thrilled either, he knows that while Michael is very strong, he also has zero experience with hunting and his brothers are, sadly, the only experts here). So to go undercover, Dean and Cas want to try out as teachers while Sam pretends to be someone official (Idk anything about schools in the US, but they must sometimes get inspections or get visits from semi- important people, right?) Meanwhile, Jack will play a teenager.

They all wonder what Michael and Adam will do when Michael suddenly makes Adam look eighteen again with the snap of his fingers. It's an illusion, but not even Cas can see through it, so it'll work.

Once they walk into the school though, something happens. Adam gasps and falls over while a crash sounds from a nearby classroom. Sam and Dean go to investigate and find some high schooler lying on turned over tables, looking like he fell from the ceiling. The guy gets up, asks what's going on, then runs into the corridor, saying Adam's name with urgency.

It's Michael. The dude is Michael, and he doesn't know how he got that vessel, only that he was forcibly ripped from Adam and deposited in that body, which is empty in the sense that there's neither a human soul nor any memories in it. They all know that the only one who could have done that would be Chuck, but Michael doesn't want to think about it.

Anyway, Adam is feeling extremely weak, barely being able to stand and Michael 'solves' this by picking him up bridal style and carrying him to the infirmary. (Michael can't get back into Adam's body and also can't heal him. Cas also can't find what's wrong with him. Michael hopes he just needs some rest, so he's getting him to a bed.)

In the infirmary, they meet a nurse who is threatening to burst out of her uniform, looking like she's plucked straight from a porn mag. Michael stares at her and goes 'Gabriel???' and the nurse goes 'Mikey???' and changes into regular Gabe. Turns out, Gabriel woke up in the school (after being, you know, dead) couldn't leave and decided to try and blend in. Since he knows exactly nothing about children, he decided to become a hot nurse. ('Who doesn't want to be a hot nurse, Mikey??')

Introductions are made, and Gabriel checks Adam. All he finds is very low energy for no discernible reason. They hypothesize that Adam's body, after over a thousand years, is not used to running on anything but archangel juice anymore and doesn't really remember how to make its own energy anymore. Gabriel makes some food for him, hoping that'll prompt the body to burn some calories and stuff.

Meanwhile, it turns out that Jack, Adam and Michael were actually enrolled in classes without anyone applying for that (Chuck's meddling, probably). (They were just kinda supposed to blend in and talk with the kids, which is stupid but hey, it's a Winchester plan and they seem to mostly rely on their main character mojo half the time.)

Anyway, they're actually all trying to get info on the case (Adam is slowly getting better which is good bc Michael will NOT leave his side and they are earning a reputation around school as 'that cute gay couple - you know, the geek and the jock?'). That's when the first Musical number happens. It doesn't even involve any of the team, just some random kids Jack befriended, but they're singing and dancing and then after they stop they go on as if nothing happened. And that's... odd, especially when no one even mentions it and asking about it just gets them weird looks. But then it happens again and again to different members of tfw 2.0, sometimes solos, sometimes duets, and they don't WANT to sing or dance but they can't help it, not even Cas.

Adam, who was both a STEM major AND a theater gay, is getting more and more frustrated that HE doesn't get any songs.

This goes on while they slowly uncover clues about the 'supernatural occurences' being bogus, all signs hinting at Chuck having lured them there for his amusement. Like Gabriel, none of them can leave the premises, and everyone is getting more and more annoyed.

Finally, Adam and Michael sing a very sweet duet together (I'm thinking either Breaking Free or another Troy/Gabriella song from High School Musical) and while dancing to the music, they manage to get off the school grounds and actually end up breaking the spell that made them all 'play along'. (It turns out that the Midam duet was not orchestrated by Chuck but was meticulously planned by Michael, Adam and the other theater gays they befriended. They had an inkling that they could trick the spell into letting them out and yeah, they chose that song, 'Why are you guys looking at us so weird? It's a classic, Dean!')

So Michael and Adam saved the day (from Musicals) but Chuck is still at large. (Which is why I call it an episode and not an AU. It could theoretically have happened! Gabriel vanishes, btw, and it's up to you to decide if he bolted or Chuck got him.)

Michael and Adam go back to sharing a body, but they do keep the other body for, uh, reasons. Tfw 2.0 fucks off. Michael and Adam are glad they get to go back to their life now, though they are gonna miss the kid. Jack really grew on them. Next time, Adam says, they need to get the kid some ice cream. And maybe sing some more.

#Sorry another long and rambling one #The 'reasons' are that Adam really likes Michael's hugs in that vessel #And maybe they can experiment with it a bit #So yeah this is my musical ep idea #This probably won't work as a fic bc music needs to be heard not read #But man does this live rent-free in my head #Midam

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niqhtlord01 · 3 years

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Niqhtlord’s wondrous world of aliens presents “An introduction to Alien Species”

(Original art by Miguel R. Duque : https://www.artstation.com/artwork/o9VZO Altered photo photoshoped by me)

Species: Flinchestet Current status: Members of the Confederation of Basalva

Homeworld:

Known as Trievil, the Flinchestet homeworld orbits a blue sun and is only slightly smaller than Mars. Gravity levels are roughly a third of what you experience on a world such as Earth with the average day night cycle lasting 23 hours.

The planet is divided between several hundred islands full of dense jungles and deep oceans, both full of a variety of planet and wildlife. Though the oceans are vast larger predatory species have yet to develop leaving the seas largely populated by vast swarms of smaller organisms.

Because of the low gravity of the world creatures there, including the Flinchestet themselves have traveled from island to island simply by getting a running start and jumping across the oceans between islands. Travel by boat is largely limited for fishing or the transport of large objects too cumbersome to be handled by individuals.

It was discovered by a Confederation of Basalva scientific expedition that made first contact with the species and invited them to the confederation after a trial period.

Current status of the world is regarded as a resort planet where species from across the galaxy come to enjoy the radiant sun and low gravity.

Biology:

Standing roughly 5.5 to 7ft tall, the standard Flinchestet towers over other species, yet because of the low gravity of their world their muscles have never developed to their full potential.

Their eyes are nearly three times as large as standard humans while a broad ridge runs the length between them from forehead to chin. Neither mouth nor any other orifice is present on any portion of their bodies save for their eye sockets.

Often appearing as thin, almost twig like in appearance Flinchestet often struggle when traveling to other worlds with slightly higher gravity wells. Many of the species apply some form of cybernetic enhancement to their limbs when going off world to support their bodies; otherwise they are barely capable of raising a finger let alone standing up right. Strangely enough though these enhancements are never shown to the public and are considered disrespectful in their culture, despite the fact every traveling Flinchestet comes equipped with them.

Due to the radiation from the blue sun the Flinchestet have developed semi photosynthesis, were they are able to gain all of their needed dietary requirements from exposure to various forms of natural sun light. Exposure to artificial sun light, such as sun light produced by tanning beds or specialized light bulbs, often results in Flinchestet becoming increasingly ill.

WARNING

Supernatural Abilities: The most interesting quality of all for the Flinchestet would be their telepathic abilities.

Lacking any orifice to communicate from, the Flinchestet often will project their version of a “voice” into the recipients mind for communication and read their thoughts in response. The voice is often heard differently subject to subject as it is structured around what said individual would think a Flinchestet would sound like.

The exact point in their evolution at which point they developed this trait is still unknown as all Flinchestet refuse to speak of it. Further questioning has only resulted in vague answers stating that it is an ability learned at birth and nothing more.

It was not known until recently that they also possessed strong psychometry traits as well. Through physical contact with other species a Flinchestet is able to telepathically link to their nervous system or equivalent and directly access portions of their memories and in some cases even alter them.

This trait is only possible through physical contact as it has been found that most living organisms in the universe have various buffers, so to speak, in their bodies blocking out portions of their brain from outside access. As if your brain were a wifi router with an encrypted password blocking random devices from connecting to it. By establishing a physical connection the Flinchestet are able to trick their target’s body into think that the Flinchestet are actually part of the same organism and therefore can freely access the mind.

Once inside an individual’s mind they are capable of altering memories to present different perspectives or even insert themselves into them to make the subject feel as if they have known the Flinchestet for years. This however only works on weak memories that are often forgotten by the individual on a daily basis such as who they saw in a restaurant when they got lunch or who they spoke to on a transport ride, etc. Stronger memories are much more difficult to change as the individual is actively thinking about them ensuring they are not forgotten; so any change made to them would be immediately recognized.

Should a strong willed individual become aware of this intrusion during physical contact they are capable of trapping the invading Flinchestet within the confines of their own mind for a time. To on lookers it appears as if they are day dreaming when inside their mind they are waging a fierce battle. If the effects inside the mind are strong enough, say the individual stabbed the Flinchestet with a sword, the Flinchestet mind would believe that the blow was real and trigger the Flinchestet skin to part open as if the stab wound was real.

The only way for this connection to be broken is if the physical point of contact is broken or one of the two in the communion either dies or blacks out losing consciousness.

While this trait has caused several political and social controversies since the Flinchestet joined the intergalactic community and has made them become regarded with suspicion.

Industry:

Flinchestet industry is largely textile with no major other industrial capacities. Their homeworld lacks rare metals or elements worth mining and the wildlife is only edible to the Flinchestet due to the radiation from the blue sun.

History:

What is known about the Flinchestet is only from the point of discovery by the scientific expedition.

For all intents and purposes the Flinchestet do not keep a recorded history of their people. There have been no discoveries of ancient writings, books, tomes, electronic scrolls, or any other form of physical record of the species past.

When directly questioned about their origins Flinchestet will often say “The paths we have traveled are roads you can never tread, with signs you cannot read, and with a beginning you cannot fathom.”

At this time it is even being brought into question if Trievil is even their real homeworld. Several scientists have come forward to hypothesize that the species we know may not have even been a product of natural evolution but a response to a hazardous environment after being stranded.

Current Status:

Since their introduction into the Confederation of Basalva they have held immense political power. Many species agreed to their proposals after either a mind alteration was triggered or out of fear for such an event to be forced upon them should they defy the Flinchestet.

It was not until the introduction of humanity into the confederation that the Flinchestet finally met a foe they could not overcome so easily.

While initially able to alter the human ambassador, the gambit was quickly discovered and the tables turned as the humans sent new ambassadors trained to have the most dangerous minds a Flinchestet could have ever known.

They found these new human minds to be chaotic and uncontrollable to all but the humans themselves. In their minds the humans subjugated the Flinchestet and put them through unspeakable tortures, though largely stolen from the latest human horror movie from their homeworld.

The political base the Flinchestet had built crumbled as they instead flocked to the humans in the belief that they would be safe in the shadow of the one species the Flinchestet feared to go near. They have since been regulated back to an individual seat within the confederation, yet it is unlikely they will remain so for long.

Wars:

The Flinchestet approach to war is to win it before it even begins.

With their supernatural abilities they are able to influence dozens of species and move them across the board as nothing more than pawns. Resources needed for war machines suddenly are diverted elsewhere, open borders to Flinchestet territory suddenly become closed off, and powerful trade agreements and defensive pacts are made to ensure that any attempt against the Flinchestet is an attempt against half the confederation.

That being said smaller engagements have broken out between Flinchestet and rouge factions of the galaxy such as pirates or raiders. Given their frail form Flinchestet are unable to wield weapons even to defend themselves and will often rely on automated weapons like automated turrets or mechanical soldiers to do the fighting for them.

While it is no easier to snap a Flinchestet in two than it is to snap a thig branch in two with your knee, the last line of defense is that often an attacker will attempt some form of physical contact to end the Flinchestet’s life, such as strangulation or bone snapping, giving them a chance to enter their mind and reprogram them. This tactic as of late become obsolete against pirates and rogues as one pirate will often rush the Flinchestet and tackle them to the ground while another comes over during the psychometry state and run a knife through the Flinchestethead as they are distracted.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #Flinchestet #alien bio

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yourwitchmama · 4 years

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Just because they are your soulmate, it doesn’t mean that you should be together forever.

I want to talk about “soul groups” and the philosophy of yogic karma for this post. It is hypothesized have something called a “soul group”. A “soul group” is thought to be a group of souls that not only wait for each other to be out of their physical bodies, but to reincarnate together so we can be involved with each other once again. (perhaps at slightly different times, but it is so they can play specific rolls in your life) So technically, everyone in the “soul group” will be a “soulmate”. Some of these “soulmates” are therapists, friends, teachers, family members, lovers, etc. The thought of one “soulmate” is probable, but the idea of it is mostly derived from referring to a lover, and our culture mostly values monogamy. If you only apply it to romantic love and you are polyamorous, you may feel like they are all soul mates. A western explanation also implies that you will be with one person forever and no matter what. Psychics and ancient historians have come to the conclusion that soulmates aren’t limited to one person. This idea of having one soulmate could be a way to spiritually manipulate the masses into staying with one person no matter what, because you are “supposed to be together”. Now, they might supposed to be with you, but the reason you would not necessarily be together forever with one of your soul mates is because of karmic ties you have from past lives with one another. For example, you had a soul mate reincarnate to become a teacher in your life, and they strayed far from their spiritual path because of the limitations of the human body and did not fulfill their duties, they may reincarnate as a child of yours to not only neutralize the karmic ties, but to help the soul that was once a teacher overcome human limitations so they can learn from YOU instead. There is a great book called “Many Lives Many Masters” that can explain the concept of multiple soulmates in depth. So, what happens if you have multiple lovers as soulmates? Well, they may be temporary. If one soul is destined to be with you karmically, they may appear as a lover. You are both supposed to learn from each other, and when you have learned what you were supposed to, you just sometimes aren’t meant to be together after that. That’s why exes can feel like soulmates, but it just doesn’t work out. That’s why friends, teachers, and even therapists feel spiritually connected to you. When it comes to someone breaking their karmic ties and straying from their life path, they aren’t going to be spiritually fulfilling to your life path. If the universe is trying to tell you that you are ready to move onto the next best thing, because we are always evolving do it. It is scary, but the unknown is always scary. There are many factors to a soulmate breakup. They may go against the universes signs and their own gut feelings. This can not only stall them, but can corrupt the timeline between the two of you. There are infinite factors on why you might not be together forever. That doesn’t mean they aren’t spiritually significant or meant to be with you for a short period of time. Go with your gut. Never risk your physical and mental health for someone else because you believe you have to stay with them forever. Listen to what the universe wants you to do... there are likely more soulmates to come.

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

SH - John Watson x Reader - Better Late Than Never - Words: 2,679

A/N: This was the prompt: Reader went to med school with John, she liked him but never told him so. John gets deployed and they lose contact. A few years later they meet again because of a case.

"C'mon, Y/N," John laughed. "If you don't study for the test tomorrow, I won't give you the ice cream I bought!"

"Is it Death By Chocolate?" You replied, raising your head only slightly from it's spot on the floor.

"Maybe," He replied with a smirk. The two of you were in your dorm, trying to study for the quarter finals. You were in your 6th and final year of med school. You'd met about halfway through your 2nd year and had instantly become close friends. Small displays of affection were normal between the two of you, the type that best friends would share without giving a second thought. John didn't have a clue, but you had developed quite the crush on him. You never told him, though, for fear of messing up the one good friendship you had.

"John!" You groaned, dramatically sprawling out further on the carpet. "I think my brain has died." You had been trying to remember everything you'd studied and were coming up blank.

"Hm, I'm studying to be a doctor, not a coroner, but I would say time of death was somewhere between 6 years ago and now," He teased, leaning over you from his nearby perch on your futon. Pretending to be mad, you threw your foot up and kicked his leg.

"You git!" You exclaimed with a grin.

"Oi!" He replied, dramatically tumbling to the floor next to you. You both lost yourselves in a fit of giggles. You stopped laughing and just stared at him when your brain caught up with your eyes and you had one of your "moments". He looked so happy lying there next to you, laughing his head off. His hair was a mess, his jumper had gotten abit twisted and was creeping up his torso, and his eyes were bright with tears of laughter. "You ok, Y/N?" He asked when he noticed you had stopped laughing.

"Yeah, just thinking," You replied quickly.

"Ok, as long as it's nothing serious," He said. "Really, if anything is bothering you, you can talk to me. You've been zoning out more often recently so," He looked away, a bit embarrassed. "I was worried."

"I'm fine, John," You replied, not having the guts to tell him what was really on your mind.

About a year later, only 3 months after graduation, John called you. You still kept in touch, although you lived in different cities now, and your feelings hadn't changed. John had dated a few different girls but nothing ever worked out. You, though? You had gone on one date but left halfway through when the guy wouldn't shut up about himself and asked if you were splitting the check. John had told you he had applied at a small clinic near his apartment so you assumed his call was to update you on that. "Hey!" You said, picking up immediately.

"Uh, hey, Y/N," He said, sounding fairly upset. "Look, I," He sighed. "You remember that I enlisted a few months ago?"

"Yes," You replied, a lump forming in your throat.

"I've just gotten my deployment letter. They're sending me to Afghanistan. I leave this Friday." Silent tears streamed down your face and you found yourself unable to reply. "Y/N? Are you still there?" He asked.

"Yeah," You choked out. "Yeah, I'm still here, John. I, well, I guess I should wish you well then." You pinched the bridge of your nose and breathed deeply, trying to get ahold of yourself.

"Look, I know you're not a fan of the military but can't you at least congratulate me? This is something I wanted after all."

"Is it? Is it really?" You nearly yelled. "You didn't sound all that cheery two minutes ago when I picked up the phone! Besides, how could I congratulate you when all I can see is you getting blown to bits out there!"

"Sorry," He replied immediately. "That, that wasn't fair of me to ask." You both were silent for a moment before John spoke up again. "I'll write."

"Not with that handwriting you won't, " You replied, falling back into your regular banter.

"I'll try to make it legible for you," He promised. You nodded, though he couldn't see you, and started crying again.

"Alright," You said. "Can I drive over Friday and see you off?"

"Best not," He said. "I think it's better for both of us, yeah?" You reluctantly agreed. The two of you chatted for a few more minutes before saying goodbye. Shaking off the foreboding feeling that had settled on you, you continued with your day and started planning your first letter to him.

The first few weeks went well, his letters arriving regularly on Friday's without fail. Then one week it came on Monday instead, the next on Wednesday, and soon two weeks passed without a letter. When you finally received it, he said that they had gotten to a point where it was getting harder and harder to safely send a receive mail. He asked for you to stop all letters and promised to find you again when, or if, he got home. That night you wrote him one final letter but, of course, never sent it. You were determined to move on with life now but you promised yourself to never forget him.

"Good morning, Molly," You said walking into the hospital with her. You'd moved to London and gotten a job at St. Bart's, working in the outpatient clinic. A few weeks after starting there, you'd met Molly while on break. You exchanged numbers and started meeting in the cafeteria if you both had breaks at the same time. In time you met Sherlock. What an experience that had been. He immediately deduced which department you worked in, how long you'd been there, where you went to college, when you went to college and he even figured out that you'd been in love with someone in uni and never got over them. Needless to say, you were impressed. Ever since then he texted you occasionally for confirmation on medical related hypotheses.

"Good morning, Y/N," Molly replied.

"Have you heard from Sherlock recently? I haven't gotten any texts from him in the past few weeks." Molly chuckled and nodded.

"I've heard from him. He has a new flatmate. A doctor too!"

"Wow!" You replied. "Good for him! Let me know next time he comes by so I can meet him. I'd like to know who my replacement is," You teased. Molly giggled and you continued chatting as you walked over to the elevator. As the doors were about to close, you heard someone yell.

"Hold the lift!" You slammed the open doors button and Sherlock ran in. He nodded at you and you let go of the button. The doors started to slide closed again when another person called out.

"Sherlock!" You froze hearing that voice. You tried to get the doors in time but missed.

"Y/N?" Molly asked, worriedly. "Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost!" You nodded and leaned on the wall, trying to get yourself together. You decided to ride up to Molly's floor and see if Sherlock's friend came up on the next lift. Sherlock kept staring at you, confused, while you sat there waiting. A few minutes later, he came storming in the door.

"Sherlock! What were you thinking? Why didn't you hold the lift for me? I had to wait for the next one which happened to-"

"John," You gasped, amazed that it actually was him standing in front of you. "John!" You exclaimed, jumping up and running over.

"Y/N!" He replied, a grin spreading on his face. His smile faltered quickly though. "I," He said. "I need to be going. I forgot I had an appointment. Yeah. That's it. I'll see you at the flat, Sherlock." John quickly limped out the door and off to the elevator.

"He's the one, isn't he?" Sherlock said after a few moments. You nodded sadly.

"Why'd he run off like that?" You asked.

"Well it's obvious he didn't have an appointment. That leaves two possible reasons for his lying. One he could be-"

"Oh shut up, Sherlock!" You cried. "I know why he left. I-" You cut yourself off, choking back a sob. "Just sod it all! I need to go to work. I'll see you at lunch, Molly." You ran off, down the hall and to the elevator.

"Molly, I know that look in your eyes," Sherlock said once you'd left. "What are you planning?"

"The perfect set up. Now help me-"

"Molly," Sherlock interrupted her. "I may not understand a lot of things related to the topic of human relationships but I can tell you this, if either of us were to get involved, we may be maimed." Molly nodded in agreement.

Weeks went by and you worked harder than ever, taking extra shifts whenever you could. Your boss finally told you to take a week off to recharge. After much arguing, you relented and headed home for a week. Being alone all day, however, left your mind wandering. Thinking back to what might have been. To occupy your time, you decided to catch up with one of your good friends who lived nearby. You hadn't had the chance to hang out in some weeks but you texted each other every day. When you didn't hear from her yesterday, you worried but figured she probably was just tired. "Maybe she'll have some good advice for me," You told yourself. Knocking at her door, you checked your phone again to see if she had replied yet. Now you were really worried. You grabbed your spare key to her apartment and went in.

"What do you want?" Sherlock said, answering his phone.

"Sherlock, it-it's Y/N. Can you," You paused, taking a shaky breath. "Can you come down here please? I need your help. Lestrade's already on his way."

"On my way," He replied, grabbing his coat and scarf. "What happened?" As you explained to him everything, he grabbed John's coat and tossed it to him. John was mildly confused of course, but went along.

"I went in and found her in the bathroom," You told him. "I'm probably missing something obvious. I'm sorry," You cried.

"No, you're doing fine," Sherlock said genuinely. John looked at him surprised as they got into the cab, still not aware of who was on the other end of the call. "We'll be there in 7 minutes."

"We?" You asked. But Sherlock hung up before he answered.

"Y/N?" Greg said, coming up behind you. "I hate to say this but, we're going to need a statement. Do you want to wait till Sherlock gets here?"

"No, it's alright. Let's get it over with." A few minutes later, you'd told Greg everything you knew and he'd gone inside with the others to investigate. A cab pulled up and Sherlock rushed out. "Sherlock!" You exclaimed running up to him. As you approached, you saw another person getting out of the cab. "Why did you bring him?" You hissed.

"He's my assistant, flatmate and, if I have deduced correctly, a friend of both of us," Sherlock said.

"Look, that was years ago, I don't even know if-" You started whisper-yelling. You got cut off though when John walked up. You noticed he was limping again.

"John," Sherlock said. "I believe you're acquainted with Y/N. You're much better with people than I am," He stated briefly before going into the apartment.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," John said once Sherlock left. You nodded, sitting down on a nearby bench before your legs gave way from exhaustion.

"She was a good friend of mine. I don't know what could have happened." John was quiet as he sat down next to you.

"Sherlock will figure it out. If anyone can, it's him," He finally said.

"That is for certain," You replied with a dry chuckle. "So how did you meet Sherlock?"

"Oh, well, you remember Mike Stamford?"

"From uni? Yeah, I remember him."

"Well, he introduced me to Sherlock. We were both in need of a flatmate and he matched us up." John paused for a moment, brows furrowed. "That sounds much too much like a bad dating ad. Mike got us together."

"Nope, that's worse," You replied chuckling.

"You understand."

"I think so," You finally replied. "So," You paused. You were so desperate to ask him more but you weren't sure if this was the best time. "Oh, well, nevermind. Glad that worked out." You quieted again, staring off down the street. John looked at you for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Right, yes. So, what have you been up to?"

"Work. I got a job at St. Bart's about 2 years ago. That's how I met Molly and therefore Sherlock." You were silent for a moment before adding one more thing. "I've missed you, John."

"I've missed you too," He admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't write or call when I got back. I-" He sighed and absently rubbed at his leg. "I couldn't. I was scared, if I'm being honest."

"Why? What happened?"

"You know we got sent into a very dangerous area. That's why I had to stop writing to begin with. But then, well, I got shot."

"Your leg?" You asked since he had been limping and rubbing at it.

"Ah, shoulder actually. The limp is psychosomatic. It comes and goes when I'm particularly worried or upset."

"Oh, I'm sorry," You said, not completely sure of what to say.

"I've been back in London for about a year. I looked you up actually. I found out you were working at Bart's. That's why I ran into Mike that day. I was in a park nearby, trying to work up the nerve to go and see you."

"Why didn't you?" You asked. He looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's ok. I should be honest." He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled nervously. "I was afraid of what you'd think of me. I didn't come back as some 'war hero'. I'm a washed up medic who can't even walk correctly."

"It's psychosomatic, right?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.

"Sherlock says so."

Well then, you have nothing to fear." He looked at you questioningly. "You know I never cared about the military so I could honestly care less if you came back known as some 'war hero' or not. You're not washed up, just look at you! Out here solving mysteries with the world's only Consulting Detective, Sherlock Holmes! And you can too walk right! You're just too scared to."

"I'm not so sure-" You interrupted him by leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. Pulling away with a giggle you got up and ran a few feet away.

"You'll have to come here to get another!"

"Oh, you devil," He grinned. He got up and walked over to you quickly, picking you up, spinning you around and giving you another kiss. You laughed happily and leaned on his shoulder.

"See? You did just fine!"

"I suppose I did, didn't I?" He chuckled.

"Oh, John," You giggled. "I should have told you a long time ago. I love you, John Watson." He smiled from ear to ear.

"I love you too, Y/N L/N. But a crime scene isn't really the best place to do this at."

"Why not? We giggle at murders all the time?" Sherlock suddenly butted in.

"How long have you been standing there?" John yelled.

"Well," Greg suddenly said, a few feet away and holding up his phone. "This video is already 4 minutes long, so," He trailed off.

"John," You said, not taking your eyes off the two other men.

"Yes, love?" He asked as you reached for his hand.

"Let's get 'em." You then spent the rest of the afternoon chasing Sherlock and Greg around the neighborhood, enjoying their girly shrieks, until Mycroft showed up and put a stop to it. Later that evening, you and John were enjoying some Chinese takeaway back at your apartment.

"I really can't apologize enough for leaving you in the dark, Y/N," John said. "I should have written," He chided himself.

"It's alright, John," You assured him. "Actually, you just reminded me of something. Wait here a moment." You ran off to your room and pulled an envelope out of a small box in your desk. You returned to the living room and held it out to John. "This is for you. It was my last letter but," You paused, blushing lightly. "I never mailed it."

My Dear Captain Watson,

I hope you're doing well. I hope you're staying safe and helping as many as you can. I hope -

Oh what am I writing. John, there's something you should know and I wish I could tell you in person but better now than never I suppose.

I love you.

There. Feel free to never write me back again or return this with a 'Dear John' letter. Well, you know what I mean. I wish I could have said it better or sooner but I was scared to lose your friendship. Now I'm more scared of actually losing you.

John, please return safely. Even if we never speak again. The world should not be without John Watson.

All my love,

Y/N

"Y/N," John said, tears in his eyes after reading your letter. "Why didn't you send it?"

"Well, you had asked me not to write anymore since it was dangerous and," You paused, shaking your head sadly. "I chickened out again."

"Well, I guess what they say is true then." You looked at him quizzically as he pulled you close to him and leaned his forehead on yours. "Better late than never."

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

#sherlock bbc #sherlock #john watson x reader #john watson #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfic

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ask-asexual-crystal-gems · 3 years

Text

What's a common thread between ADHD and the asexuality spectrum? The answer might surprise you.

A while back, an ADHD user said in response to my question, “how did mindfulness exercises go?” a single word, “dissociation.”

It was only long after I had replied, that I had to remind myself that people think of dissociation as a scary thing.

I had to remind myself that a psychotherapist I once knew was pretty unorthodox, and gave me perspective on the matter that defused all the mysteriousness and internalized socialized discomfort surrounding it, which is ultimately rooted in both fear of the unknown or unfamiliar, and maybe a little bit of stigma, too.

Naturally, I do not talk about these sorts of things with general people IRL, so newly having a ‘conversation’ online about it did not jostle my awareness of others’ attitudes like it probably should have.

Things like anxiety and ADHD are, let’s say, more “ordinary” neurodivergences. (remember, the word applies to ALL mental illnesses, also, not just traits. Many don't consider most cases of ADHD an 'illness,' nor a lot of presentations of autism)

Those are more "ordinary." They don’t mash that “this is weird” button, so much as simply “this is very unpleasant.”

But dissociation can be the former, and not the latter.

Let me back up and explain that a bit.

People see dissociation as undesirable.

But why is it, you should ask.

Leave aside questions of physical safety. I’m just talking about sitting down somewhere, and there is no risk to you.

In the typical view, it’s not just another operation the brain can do, or an altered mind state, as we discussed it, rather, it is somehow considered a “bad” outcome.

When, ironically, for many forms of mind training, which we’ll put under the umbrella term “meditation” for simplicity’s sake, the end goal is a type of on-command dissociative state.

Whether you are internalizing your attention, externalizing your attention, or just trying to get that danged mind chatter to shut up for once and give you some peace, whichever way you are sliding along that scale, there is always the route open to you to pursue this ultimate peace.

So this person, who was trying out mindfulness?

Think, if you switched all the aircraft cockpit switches to check if everything was lighting up correctly. But instead of being an experienced pilot, you had no idea what would happen once you started testing everything out.

Accidentally withdrawing your physical senses, and seeming to distance your “self” from your body, which experienced practitioners do without batting an eye, (pun intended) would seem like a dysfunction rather than a built-in feature.

Quieting those areas of the brain dedicated to sense perception is quite a lovely experience, when you are educated on it, do it on purpose, and expect it.

Whereas anxiety is almost never a positive experience, unless it’s not really overwhelming or potent, and you’ve 'reframed' it such that it’s exciting, like any other adrenaline junkie bender.

The milder forms of dissociation, termed depersonalization or derealization, that seem to be quite common among asexual people, are also often considered as a negative thing, instead of just the current, value-neutral state of mind, which is trainable.

A much more common and even milder form happens when we sink into routine. Ever had a stretch of weeks on a job where you look back and you feel like you were sort of “automated”? Like you weren’t really present? You’re somehow a little surprised that that much time has passed?

That “time dilation,” accompanied also sometimes by a distorted sense of chronological sequence happens a lot with ADHD people, regardless of circumstances, but most everyone in the populace has experienced it at some point, barring perhaps the super privileged who have never been forced into a literally “mind numbing” job.

Maybe you’ve also experienced the sensation where you get into a car, perhaps when you’re on a familiar route you’ve driven a thousand times, or especially on long road trips, and you seem to zone out and lose time.

The brain is pretty good at conserving energy.

This is what she tells her patients, to calm their sympathetic nervous system. It circumvents that distress, that health-sapping stress response to this ultimately harmless “weird” experience, vastly improving their quality of life:

Dissociation is a continuum- many forms of it are common. Not some super strange thing corralled in a small corner of the sum total of human experience.

“Reframing” these things is essential to attaining incrementally improved mental health.

Clearing away all the internalized judgement, the feelings of wrongness, etc.

Just one more step out of the norm.

Just another neurodivergence.

It is conceptualized as unnerving when it happens suddenly and sharply, though, because it is so different from “ordinary” everyday experience.

The same way one person who hasn’t been around dogs much might react to a large dog barking with fear, and another person standing next to them having the exact same experience, trained and knowledgeable in recognizing true aggression versus excitement or mild warning, would not feel threatened.

Yes, having that particular toggle out of your grasp may be annoying and to those not given this perspective, frightening. (And if other personalities are involved, that gets much more complicated!!) But, consider. One of my mentors said calmly once, that she lost time for, say, 10 or 15 minutes while sitting down quite regularly, and felt very recharged and energized afterwards. It’s not exactly like sleep, because there’s not that head nodding and relaxation of muscles. Almost instantly gone, and instantly aware again, not that feathery transition as happens when drowsing or gradually falling asleep.

I hypothesize to her that this had probably started up because she’s involuntarily dropping into a deep delta or theta brainwave state for a bit, because that’s what she does in ‘brain entrainment’ recordings. (The frequencies are very good for relaxation when you're anxious and have a hard time unwinding yourself, others are good for focus during studying, and are therefore used by ADHD people) Unless she wants to pay some big lab to measure her neuron firing frequency though, there’s no way to tell for sure. The point is, that she directly benefits from this ‘taking a break’ from thinking. She is not bothered in the least by her mind occasionally saying, ‘you know what, I’m overwhelmed right now, gonna switch off for a bit.’ When someone gives their mind this permission to pause from its worries and senses, each the internal and external input, sometimes this is the outcome. It is not a problem to her whatsoever that this toggle occasionally moves of its own accord.

People are afraid of what they don’t understand.

But she understands it.

People are afraid of new experiences.

But to her, it’s old hat. On an MRI, each of the parts of the brain dedicated to the senses dim. Occipital lobe for sight, temporal lobe for hearing, etc.

If I were brushed up on the neuroanatomy of this process better, I could also name the parts dedicated to internal imput that would grow dimmer as she entered that state. Heck, they study this stuff so much, when interviewing meditation practitioners and testing for stuff like blood flow changes as their attention shifts, those images probably already exist.

Dissociation is not a mysterious thing.

It serves a purpose.

It’s your brain’s ‘energy saver’ mode.

Or in some cases, ‘recharge.’

So, to the person who argued that ADHD people should be cautious about using mindfulness? I must ask again, why?

Why would you forgo the benefits? Why would they tell others to do so??

Usually the main reasons dissociation causes problems, that aforementioned therapist says, is that people are overloaded to the point where it happens not when they’re relaxed, and can daydream or drift, but randomly when there’s too much pressure in their lives.

The fear response to it is just like any other overactive fear response or phobia- with time and therapeutic work, they are all resolvable.

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#this post is NOT about dissociative identity disorder #only mentioned it in passing to separate it from the discussion

#adhd #asexual #generalized anxiety disorder #mental health stigma #mental health #therapy #neurodivergence #neurodiversity #depersonalization #derealization #mindfulness #anti capitalism #time dilation #brain entrainment #delta waves #theta waves

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kingandfireheart · 3 years

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Mating Bonds: a mostly neutral analysis of the bonds in ACOTAR universe

I know everyone is like SECRET AZRIEL MATING BOND, but isn’t the whole point of the mating bond in non-Maeve situations supposed to be that once it snaps, the instincts takeover and it’s hard to ignore, or miss? In doing this analysis, I noticed some trends with mating bond, but mostly realized that I have a lot more questions than answers when it comes to how these bonds actually work in practice. My musings are below:

[Since TOG is a different universe and Rowaelin's mating bond is complicated because of Maeve's foul play, the coexistent Carranam bond, and the blood oath, this analysis does not include any discussion of their bond, and is limited to the bonds discussed in ACOTAR. ]

How the bond choses a couple?

The concept of the bond is a bit nebulous. Rhys hypothesizes that the mating bond is the result of guesswork, possibly related to power, offspring, or a soul-bond, but we don't really know how accurate that is.

The power theory makes sense with the bonds we know exist, if the Cauldron is able to predict the power the Archeron sisters have after being Made. While we have evidence that Nesta and Feyre are mated to Cassian and Rhys prior to being Made, they don't gain that power until they are Made. All of the mated pairs we know are incredibly powerful (either high lords, a high lord's heir, and Cassian, and three Archeron sisters, Rhys and Tamlin's moms, and Vivianne).

The offspring theory, makes significantly less sense, unless we assume that the Cauldron/Mother/whoever decides these things is all-knowing. Clearly, Rhys's parent's mating resulted in the most powerful high lord. However, with same-sex mates, this theory immediately fails. Even if the offspring theory for some reason didn't apply to same-sex couple, or couples that were otherwise unable to procreate, it still doesn't work for the Illyrian Male + High Fae Female bonds, which would likely lead to death, unless the Cauldron was able to predict the changes Nesta makes to herself and Feyre. Any offspring of the Made Archeron sisters would be incredibly powerful, if they were able to survive childbirth.

The soul-bonded theory has failed with Rhys and Tamlin's parents, has succeeded with Feysand, Nessian, and Kallias x Vivianne, but the jury is still out on Elain and Lucien.

Even though the rationale of the bond isn't necessarily important (I firmly reject all of the "Azriel's mate must be able the have his kids" theories), how the bond works is also portrayed inconsistently.

How the bond works?

Feyre and Rhys's bond seems to play more into their daemati powers, and is easily masked by their bargain. We don't know if or how Vivianne and Kallias, and Cassian and Nesta can communicate through their bond, since there are such few scenes with them together (post-bond acceptance).

It's also unclear what "snapping" and "rejection" mean in the context of the bond.

Cassian and Rhys fear the bond being "rejected" after their bonds are "locked into place permanently" and "became unbreakable". Rhys seems to imply that "rejection" doesn't actually alter the bond, it stays in place as a tether, and the males often go insane from the rejection. This seems to to imply that "rejection" is more of a concept of practice, a "breaking up" of the couple, rather than a breaking of the mental and soul connection that the bond creates.

Prior to ACOSF, I believed the mutual acceptance of the bond was the "snapping," because in ACOWAR, Rhys says that it's hard to detect whether Nesta and Cassian are mates until after the bond "snaps," but it's clear from ACOSF, that Cassian was aware of the bond well before this moment. However, in ACOSF, we see that Elain and Lucien's bond is something that Azriel can detect, even though their bond hasn't been accepted.

I've separated bond-related evidence into The Male Realization, the Female Realization, and Bond Acceptance, because those are the scenes that are most recognizable. [All of this is based on the idea that the male has the earlier realization of the bond and the more powerful instincts, because we haven't seen the process of recognizing and accepting the bond for the same-sex couples in SJMs works (Emrys and Malakai in TOG and Thesan and his suspected Peregryn mate mentioned in ACOWAR). I'd assume for these couples, one person had the realization before the other, but the mating instincts are all the same, but again, SJM's work is inconsistent when it refers to the gendered nature of bonds.]

The Male Realization

We've never seen a male's perspective when they recognize the mating bond for what it is, but Feyre observes the realization for both Rhysand and Lucien.

Even though Rhys had long suspected the bond, going as far as trying to kill Amarantha because of it, he literally stumbles in shock when the bond snaps for him, and his first words to Mor upon returning to the townhouse are “she’s my mate.” Rhys clearly feels protective of Feyre since he first met her. He describes the moment of realization, saying "I think transforming you into Fae made the bond lock into place permanently. I’d known it existed, but it hit me then—hit me so strong that I panicked." This "locking into place" seems to be a reference to the bond not being as strong, or being tenuous when Feyre was human, and then the bond gaining strength when she became fae, since Rhys still fears Feyre rejecting the bond in ACOMAF.

We see Lucien whisper it at the worst possible time in Hybern, when Elain comes out of the Cauldron. He is able to break free of Hybern's holds and defend Elain throughout the Hybern scene. We also see him struggle to control his instincts when around Elain, which shows us his realization and manifestation of instincts.Lucien’s perspective also shows us that the bond literally speaks. "Touch her. Smell her. Taste her. The instincts were a running river -" "But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate." (ACOWAR) There are also two references to him snarling at males in Elain's presence, which is the manifestation of the territorial/protective instinct.

Meanwhile, the other two accepted bonds involve males who ignored the bond, Kallias (to keep Vivianne safe when he was UTM) and Cassian (likely to have a fighting chance with Nesta). (It is also suspected that Thesan ignored the potential bond with his lover while he was UTM). We know basically nothing about Kallias and Thesan, but we are given some more information from Cassian's perspective.

We see Cassian's experience with the bond is different than Rhys and Lucien. He describes the bond as, "what [he] guessed from the moment [they] met, what [he] knew from the first time he kissed [Nesta], what became unbreakable between [them] on Solstice night." He, like Rhys, "guessed it well before the Cauldron had turned her." It's possible that the bond may have been less strong when she was human, and then gained strength and "locked into place permanently" when Nesta came out of the Cauldron, like it did with Rhys and Feyre (and ostensibly, Elain and Lucien), but there is no textual reference to that being the case.

What we know is that Cassian is both instinctively and consciously protective of Nesta from the moment she walks into the room in Hybern. The first time Cassian kisses Nesta is either when he visits her in Wings and Ember and he kisses her neck, or when he is about to die during the war, after he has literally laid down his life defending Nesta. But when this happens, we see no "shock" of realization, like we did with the other two pairings. We just know that Cassian has this realization, prior to ACOSF and ACOFAS, because Cassian's perspective shows him ignoring the bond, “Some small, quiet part of his brain whispered otherwise. He ignored it. Had ignored it for a long time now.” (ACOSF). Even after "what became unbreakable between [them] on Solstice night," Cassian says, "the only thing that frightened him was that she might reject it. Hate him for it. Chafe against it."

So I think it's possible that if Azriel does have a mating bond, he hasn't had the realization yet, but may have started to see the signs with either of his love interests. If he does have a bond, it seems that it would have "spoken" to him, making him realize it, unless there's some magical or psychological reason he misses it completely.

The Female Realization

In the ACOTAR universe, it seems that the female doesn't usually "realize" the bond is there on her own, or at least Vivianne, Nesta, Feyre, and Elain haven't. (Aelin did in TOG, but we are ignoring that here for aforementioned reasons).

Feyre has no clue about the bond until the Suriel tells her. That is not to say that Feyre doesn't feel a tug toward Rhys, she just doesn't recognize that tug as the mating bond, and she's surprised that she is an apparent equal to the most powerful high lord in history.

Nesta seems to have guessed the bond is there, but is repressing that, because she fears what it will mean for her and Cassian. "At [Cassian's] utter silence, she knew what he'd say. Halted again, bracing for it" and when Cassian finally says it, "She let the truth, voiced at last, wash over her." However, Nesta's delayed realization doesn't stop the "golden thread" moment from occurring, which I am interpreting as the acceptance of the bond.

We haven't seen Elain's perspective yet, but we do see that Elain knows Lucien is her mate, and she feels him "tug" on the bond during ACOWAR. Elain also steps toward Lucien when he leaves to find Vassa. We have no clue what any of this means, but we do know that Elain knows the bond is present with Lucien, and she hasn't reacted to him in any way because of it.

It may be possible the Gwyn or Elain are able to detect a bond with Azriel prior to him recognizing (like Aelin in TOG), if there is some foul play, or some other psychological reason for Azriel to have missed the recognition and manifestation of instincts. But more likely than not, if Azriel does have a bond, it hasn't manifested or "snapped" yet, or at least, we didn't see that manifestation in the bonus chapter.

The Bond Acceptance

We know the males feel the bond before the females do, but it seemed the "golden thread" moment we see with Feysand and Nessian is the bond being accepted.

The offering of food seems to be the official ritual for acceptance, rather than a requirement or a trigger, since Nesta doesn't offer Cassian food until after ACOSF. Rather, it seems the bond acceptance is triggered by sex and a recognition of feelings. For Feyre, and Vivianne, the bond snaps the first time they have sex with their mates, but after feelings are clearly established, and for Nesta it manifests after the both admit to having feelings for one another on Solstice night.

Feyre and Nesta say the , "You're mine. I'm yours," refrain in these moments, which makes me think this is the bond's instincts manifesting for the females (although we see both sisters be jealous/ protective when other females are around their mates prior to the bond acceptance). This acceptance seems to be what strengthens the territorial instincts (Rhysand fighting Cassian in tensing around Azriel in ACOMAF) and what initiates the frenzy, which Cassian describes as, "I woke up the next morning and all I wanted to do was fuck [Nesta] for the a week straight. And I knew what that meant, what had happened, even though [Nesta] didn't".

So what does it mean for the bond to "snap"?

That's still really unclear! If the bond snapping means detection, it would be helpful to know when others detected Feysand and Nessian's bonds. We never see that happen, Amren "sniffs" Feyre, but she knows about the Bond prior to that moment, because she is the one who advises Rhys on using the bond as a way to free Feyre from Tamlin. No one reveals to Feyre or Nesta that a mating bond exists, but it is also possible that Nesta's glamour on Solstice was meant to hide more than just Cassian's scent on Nesta, and that Feyre and Rhys's mixed scents when Rhys is shot in ACOMAF is a result of the mating bond, not just the fact that the couples were sexually intimate, and physically close enough for their scents to transfer.

Meanwhile, Feyre and Tamlin (and Thesan and his lover) have sex and admit to having feelings for eachother, but are described as "waiting for the bond to snap". This would imply that the bond often "snaps" later, for established couples. Similarly, when Rhys and Feyre are discussing Mor and Azriel, Feyre asks, “Wouldn’t the mating bond have snapped into place for them if it exists?” Rhys responds: "I think that is a question Azriel has been asking himself every day since he met Mor.” With Moriel, we have neither recognition of feelings or sex, but Rhysand and Feyre seem to think the bond would "snap" regardless of Azriel's lack of love confession, and their lack of physical relationship.

So all of this leaves us with even more questions than we started with!

When does a mating bond "snap" and is this a different moment form when the bond is "accepted" or "realized?"

Has Elain and Lucien's bond "snapped?" And if so, what triggers "snapping?"

If it hasn't snapped, why can Azriel smell their bond? And why weren't Nesta or Feyre able to smell their own unaccepted bonds before they realized what was happening?

If Azriel is Elain's true mate or is Gwyn's mate, why hasn't he realized it yet? Would he be able to miss the bond completely absent foul play?

Is physical proximity what triggers the scent? or mental connection? or something else entirely?

Anyway, SJM hasn't given us any meaningful answers on these concepts, but there do seem to be some trends. It's Sarah's world, we're just reading it, but I really hope she clears up these concepts when she writes her next set of mates.

#acotar series #mating bond #nessian #feysand #azriel #kp analysis #it's sarah's world we're just reading it

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houseofhurricane · 3 years

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ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (21/28) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: With Tamlin and Vassa on the brink of death, is there anything Elain can do to save them? You can find all previous chapters here, or read Bloom & Bone on AO3. Thank you for reading! ❤️ If you'd like to get an early preview on the next chapter, follow me on Instagram at @house.of.hurricane.

Elain has been pacing the Spring Court estate since Tamlin left, hours before dawn. Her fingers trembled so badly that Mor, come from the Night Court, was forced to button her dress, then forced Elain to sit while Mor held a cup of tea to her lips. Elain could taste the whisky in the mixture but accepted the burn in her throat without complaint, nodded when Mor told her it would be all right. She’d watched Tamlin in battle dozens of times, she said, and the Mother always protected him, you’d think a male so big would be an easy target, but Tamlin always knew exactly where to be, when to wield his magic or his sword or the shape of the beast. Mor’s babbling, Elain knows, and yet her musical voice is so soothing that it’s all she can do to keep herself from begging Mor to stay with her. But she’s here to guard Vassa, to winnow her if Koschei attacks.

She’s let Vassa down enough, Elain knows. She cannot allow her friend to be captured by Koschei, not after seeing what this second captivity has wrought, the way Vassa is crumbling.

So when the queen and the Morrigan go to the lake to await the sun, Elain stays in the estate with Lucien, alert to every sound. Finally, he retreats to the library after placing a spell on her that will alert him to the presence of another living being, and Elain takes to the halls again, her heels clicking on the marble and the old stone. Normally she would linger at the windows, comfort herself with the view of the flowers and her endless hypotheses about how to improve the garden, but now the blooms are a smear of color in her vision, refusing to become distinct and consoling.

She spends an hour in the kitchen, letting Cook boss her through the baking of the day’s bread, but eventually he shoos her away for over-kneading the dough.

If she had not promised Tamlin otherwise, she would go to the Autumn Court, no matter that the only places she knows are likely already in the thick of battle. If only she could see him for a few more moments, she thinks, striding through the estate one more time.

Mid-stride, the pain hits her. The agony begins on the left side of her torso, the place where her waist curves, and then it consumes Elain whole, a blaze of agony.

The pain makes her silent, drives her hands into fists so tight that blood seeps from between her fingers, from where her nails have punctured her palm.

“Lucien,” she breathes through the pain, though perhaps it is a scream, “someone has cast a spell on me.”

Though she can see no magic around her, detect nothing with her own powers. The attack from Koschei has begun, she realizes, and when she disappears out of the world, even though the pain remains, flaring and ebbing, she waits to hear his voice, feel the spark and crackle of his powers.

Instead she appears outside her room in Feyre and Rhys’s river house, and Rhys is muttering, “if you die like this, it’s going to look as if I killed you, and we both know this isn’t how I would kill you,” and then, despite the fire that clamps its jaws tighter on her, Elain runs until she reaches Tamlin, nearly falling out of Rhys’ arms. She knows exactly how far they’ve walked by the thick trail of blood, a shocking red against the gleaming floor.

“Get Madja,” she orders Rhys, reaching for Tamlin, a challenge in her eyes. She won’t ask what happened. There is no chance that Rhys would have left a losing battle with Tamlin instead of Cassian or Azriel. Which means that Tamlin had some plan he didn’t divulge to her. But she will be angry with him later.

Now, she only tells Rhys that she can bear Tamlin’s weight and braces herself for him, his head coming to rest on her shoulder, the blood of his injury warm on her hip. She presses her hand over the gash, walking him step by agonizing step to her bedroom, murmuring, you’re all right and hold on and please, Tamlin, please until none of those words have any meaning and her voice sounds like a shrill whine in her ears.

Finally, they reach the bedroom and she eases him as gently as she can onto her bed, pressing with all her might on his side, the magic in the wound sparking against her own. Koschei was behind this attack somehow, of this Elain is certain.

But as she presses on the wound, calling her magic up inside herself, willing it through her fingers in a golden glow, the pain in Elain’s side recedes.

She can still feel Tamlin’s blood, hot and throbbing against her palm, but Koschei’s magic is gone. All she can detect is Tamlin’s own magic, and Rhys’, where he tried his best to throw a patch on the damage.

There is still so much blood, though. Enough that a man would be dead. Elain has never much liked the sight or smell of blood, but she pushes through the bile that rises in her throat, presses her hands hard against Tamlin’s side, willing his blood to stay inside his body, for his own rapid healing to begin. Hoping it will be quick enough.

“You need to live,” she tells him, “because I want to scream at you for whatever made you decide to sacrifice yourself. And then I want to apologize for all the times I told you to do something, to lead your court. Because I didn’t realize it would hurt me so much to see you like this.”

She can still feel the warmth of the blood trying to escape his body, and Tamlin’s eyelids don’t so much as flutter. Despite his tan from so many hours spent outside, his skin is pale, going blue and gray, as if shadows have begun to claim him.

“I could’ve lived with the pain in my side,” she goes on, as if he had been listening to her, “but the pain in my heart at losing you is too much. I can follow you to the realm where the dead go, and if you die today you will find me in that world. But I want to know what it would be like to be with you in this world and unafraid. So you need to hold tight to whatever binds you here and live.”

She sets free a pulse of magic through him, not sure if it will do any good, but there is no answering gush of blood, and she hears a steadier breath leave Tamlin’s lungs. The seconds drag on and Elain holds her hands to the wound, alert to Koschei’s magic.

When the hand presses to the back of her neck, cool and dry, Elain screams.

Then she registers Madja’s scent, the calming herbs that seemed to have seeped into the healer’s skin.

With a practiced gesture, Madja slips her hands around Elain’s, then replaces them, pressing on the wound. Her magic, a white glow, surrounds Tamlin's side, spreads itself across his body.

“It is only his flesh that is harmed,” Madja says, and her voice is equal parts calming and annoyed. “I had thought from the state the High Lord was in, that there was a magical catastrophe of some kind.”

“Koschei’s magic was in the wound. It felt spiky and strange, like lightning in the air but more… evil, somehow.”

“There is nothing like that in this wound. Not even a trace of that kind of magic. I sense yours, and his, and the High Lord’s awful attempt at healing. It is as if that magic has not existed in this world, Lady.”

“You can call me Elain, Madja,” she responds, which is what she always tells the healer despite no evidence that Madja will listen, but behind her words, Elain’s mind is whirling. That she could remove Koschei’s magic from this world. There are a thousand things that she could do with that power, beginning with freeing Vassa from her curse.

She’s dimly aware of Madja’s magic as she wields it on Tamlin, knitting his flesh together, which Elain feels now in her own body, an easing inside her, the banishment of pain. She finds herself clutching at Tamlin’s hand, feeling the pulse at his wrist protesting her tight grip.

Yet inside, her mind works through the implications of this new facet of her power. This magic of Koschei’s was weaker than what she’d previously encountered, and untethered to Tamlin. It reminds her most of Beron’s magic when he interrupted the meeting of the other High Lords, and of course Koschei would have had to offer something to cement a continued alliance with the Autumn Court. Helion and Lucien could help her finesse her powers, will spend happy hours bickering over the best way to navigate the curse on Vassa.

This time, when she squeezes Tamlin’s hand, it’s because she is eager for all that awaits her, the unfolding of her plan. And this time, his fingers reach out and squeeze hers, and Elain can’t contain the little shout of joy that rises in her throat.

“Will he be all right?” she asks Madja.

“He will be weak for a few days while his body heals,” the healer says, applying a fragrant bandage to the wound, “but then it will be as if he were never harmed.”

Later, Elain will hear about the victory at the Autumn Court, how Eris claimed his throne and how Helion and the Lady of Autumn absconded to the Day Court, and joy will rise inside her, mixed with relief. But now, as Madja tightens the bandages and checks her handiwork, as color returns to Tamlin’s face, premature as it may be, this is when Elain rejoices.

Exhaustion robs Vassa of most of her capacity for celebration. When Elain and Tamlin are returned to the Spring Court after the battle by Rhys, who recounts everything that has happened to Lucien and Vassa and the Morrigan, who has remained faithful to her duties as a guard, the most Vassa can manage is a smile that reveals her teeth. She wants to lean in to Lucien, pillow her head with his shoulder, but even the idea of the pain of that gesture will involve robs the desire from her, sends her to the opposite corner of the couch, tucked into herself so that there is less of her to touch.

She wants to rejoice for Eris but she worries about the curse on him, which Lucien says resembles the architecture of her own. Koschei feels only a whisper away, the grip of his magic so strong that it seems as if his own hands brush against her, polluting her. But she does not have the resolve to point this out to the grinning members of the Night Court, not after Morrigan’s bright chatter kept her distracted all day, and Vassa does not have the capacity to tear at the fragile hope in Rhys’s eyes. She should have the strength to hold Lucien close and allow him to mourn or celebrate the deaths of his other brothers however he wants, but it’s as if a thousand sleepless nights now press in on her, painful and muffling, so that she can only think of what she requires in each moment. And the idea of holding Lucien close, letting his touch cause her pain, is beyond what Vassa can currently bear.

Instead, after Rhys and the Morrigan leave, she hovers at the threshold of Tamlin’s room, where Elain has carefully arranged him on the bed. Lucien has quickly established himself on a deep armchair, his feet propped up on a low table as he works on a worn parchment which Vassa knows quite well. It contains a detailed analysis of her curse.

“You don’t know if the bond played a role,” Lucien is saying to Elain, who looks up from the fragrant compress she’s laid on Tamlin’s forehead just long enough to wrinkle her nose in annoyance.

“Even if it did, I don’t see how this isn’t worth a try.”

“You’re very sure of yourself for someone who learned this power moments ago.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You know that Lucien is generally right,” Tamlin croaks, and the way Elain’s fingers reach for his jaw, trace the line the bones make under his skin, makes something clench, tender and jealous, inside Vassa.

She steps inside the room and they all turn towards her, her heavy human tread.

“Didn’t you always tell me that everyone underestimates Elain?” Vassa says, summoning levity to her voice, a wink towards Elain. She can tell from Lucien’s expression that he hears the strain anyway.

“I think that it is possible that I can break Koschei’s curse on you,” Elain says, in a voice that is sweet and adorably unsure, though Vassa is predisposed to give those words in any tone a rosy judgement.

“How?”

“Earlier, with my magic, I sent a spell of Koschei’s out of this world and into another. I think that I could do the same with your curse.”

“That was magic Koschei gave to my brother,” Lucien says. “My brothers were--”

“Your brothers were all powerful sons of two powerful High Fae, just like you.” Elain’s words shift between comfort and accusation, a tone Vassa recognizes. One she taught Elain herself.

“Try it now,” Vassa says, walking towards the bed and extending her hand toward Elain. She tilts her palm to the ceiling, the way a queen bestows her favor.

Then Elain steps off the bed and takes Vassa’s hand, and the pain cleaves her completely. It is as if her blood is boiling fire, as if there is an animal inside her, slashing at her with its teeth and claws, as if the world has turned to pandemonium and ragged screaming.

When Vassa finds herself on the floor, Elain and Lucien and Tamlin all staring at her, wide-eyed, she realizes that her throat is raw. That the screams were her own.

“I’m so sorry,” Elain says, and Vassa has to hold herself back from reaching for her.

Because as horrible as that pain was, when Elain reached out to her, there was an end to it. And the pain that Vassa endures every day feels endless, a life sentence.

She does not want to think about what it implies, that she wants Elain to grab her and hold on until the pain stops.

Instead, Vassa summons the depths of her will, assures her fae companions that she is all right, that she would like a few moments alone to collect herself, and manages to keep from collapsing until she reaches her own bed.

“You were going to rip her apart,” Lucien growls, as soon as Vassa is out of earshot, and for a moment Elain is actually afraid of him. She’s never heard him so full of wrath.

Still, she cannot help asking: “What did you see?”

“Did your magic keep you from hearing her screams?” There’s an edge in his voice that threatens tears, wrathful sobs. Still. She had felt the magic rise in her, the will. A possibility that seemed apart from Vassa’s torment. Even in spite of her friend’s suffering, the maelstrom of pain, Elain had almost kept her fingers wrapped in Vassa’s tight grip. Of course, she will not tell Lucien how her friend clung. Perhaps she will never reveal the extent of the queen’s desperation.

“You saw something else,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. She feels Tamlin’s hand on hers, warmer than it was even moments ago, and the luck of it, the fact that he is here in his court and healing, makes her plunge onward. Because she has been trying to pretend that there is plenty of time to break Vassa’s curse, but that is clearly now a lie. “Tell me what you saw, Lucien, and we can try to fix it. We can go to Helion, or--”

Lucien interrupts her with a wave of his hand, lightning between his fingers. So powerful and yet completely unlike Koschei’s magic.

“That curse is interwoven with an essential part of Vassa. When you try to send it into another world, you are ripping that out of her.”

“Can you determine what part it was?”

Lucien’s face has gone pale, his lips yellow-white.

“It was her life, Elain. Her human life.”

“But that’s easy,” she says, not understanding his misery. “We’ll just summon the High Lords. Feyre was a human once.”

“Feyre saved our world and half the High Lords would still kill her to get that bit of their power back, if they didn’t believe she herself would destroy them in the process,” Tamlin says, the words between a groan and a sigh. “Now that they know the cost of such a miracle, you’ll never summon all of them. Not for a human queen who can offer them nothing.”

Elain is preparing a blistering retort when he reaches for her, squeezes her hand.

“If it were my decision alone, Vassa would already be High Fae.”

She dips her head and kisses him, a gentle press of lips that belies the furious workings of her mind. Because the moment Tamlin said her sister’s name, Elain’s own words to Feyre echoed in her mind. Your magic is something new entirely , she’d told Feyre. And isn’t it true of herself, too? Of Nesta?

“As soon as we can get a guard on this house,” she tells Lucien, “we go to the Night Court and then Helion. I have an idea.”

“I won’t let you kill Vassa,” he says, already halfway out the door, feet pointed in the direction of her room.

Elain only nods, doesn’t say that Vassa will surely die without her intervention. It would not be a kindness.

Instead, she turns back to the bed and smooths Tamlin’s hair away from his face, checking for signs of fever and too relieved when she finds none. She forgets, over and over, the fact that they aren’t human, that their lives are no longer so fragile, even in the thick of battle.

“You’re going to have to tell me why you weren’t shielding your forces,” she says, letting frustration suffuse her words.

“Helion and I went to rescue Cybele.” His eyes on hers are steady, no apology in them. “The Summer Court was better equipped to hold a shield against the Autumn Court’s fire.”

“So you had to be a hero?”

“You were angry when I hid in the forest,” he says, a sharp tone in his voice. “This is what it means, to be High Lord. To gain the peace you seek.”

His skin stands out against his white sheets now, and, had she not known the sight of him so well, Elain would think Tamlin unharmed. Still, she can see the exhaustion in his features, the pale cast to his skin.

“I didn’t know it would hurt so much,” she says, her voice breaking as soon as she meets his gaze. “I thought that you were going to die of that wound. That magic.”

“Now you know how it felt for me when Beron took you.” He reaches for her, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have fallen down her cheeks.

“Is it just the mating bond?”

“I--I sometimes think about what it would be, if you left this house. If you left me. The emptiness. And still I think I could… I think you’ve shown me how I could bear it, being alone. Anyway I probably deserve it.”

She lays herself carefully against him, avoiding his injured side, nestling close against his warmth.

“You are much better than I used to think,” she says.

“Better than I was. It isn’t much.” She hates that he won’t take the compliment. Accepting his flaws and failures is one thing, but this sorrow, in the face of his survival, still worries her.

“You were ready to sacrifice yourself for the Lady of Autumn. So that Helion could get away safe, and Rhys would be all right.”

“Who told you all that?” A confirmation in his eyes, the green gone bright as new leaves.

“Vassa was right when she said everyone underestimates me,” she says, taking his hand and sliding his fingers under the bodice of her gown. She does not want to talk about strategy or battle now. What she wants is far more than she can express in words. Not the desire for a man to protect her. More than the fervent kisses they exchange in other worlds. So many things in the world are awful, and Elain is tired and relieved and alive, and what she wants is Tamlin against her, inside of her, somehow still alive with her at the end of this day.

She stretches, allowing his hand to fall, cup her breast, and feels the heat rise in her at his harsh breath.

“I thought we were going to argue,” he says, his thumb pressed against her nipple. She can feel every movement, every hesitation.

“You’re alive,” she says, casting out with her magic to pull the door shut, leaning towards him so that her breasts swell against the neckline of her gown and his fingers are trapped against her soft flesh. “And I will have to go to the Night and Day Courts in the morning.”

In seconds, with his assistance, her dress is undone, landing on the floor with a muffled thump, her undergarments flung alongside, and then Elain reaches for Tamlin, pushing up the soft fabric of his shirt and running her fingers over his skin, the golden hair that’s light on his chest and thicker on his forearms, the muscles of his chest and abdomen, the cock that strains through his pants at the gentle exploration of her fingers.

She’s never touched him there before. She’s never dared.

His lips are on her neck, his teeth against the skin as his thumbs, featherlight, skim her breasts, teasing her soft skin, and she can’t help the moan she looses, the urgency of her own fingers, scrabbling between his back and the wall of pillows she’s constructed.

“Are you all right?” she asks, knowing that in a moment all semblance of consideration will desert her.

He pulls her against him and nods, but she feels his fingers going cold. She pulls her hands from behind him and cups her palms around his fingers, holding them above her heart.

“I’m alive,” he says, a growl edging the words, as if to distract her from the exhaustion in his words. “I’m alive thanks to your magic.”

“I’m never going to let you forget that.” She curls herself beside him, hoping he hears the promise in the words. The declaration in them.

With a groan, he reaches over and tucks the blankets around her, up to her chin, strokes his thumb across her lips.

“You saved me,” he says, and though the weight of the day bears down on her, a thick exhaustion, Elain can’t stop smiling.

Over the next week, the firebird flies less and less, and Vassa spends more of each night in her room, curled up on the bed. Though he tries to hide it, Lucien has taken to sleeping on the floor, rousing himself at the slightest motion before spending his days far away. They’re getting closer to figuring out how to break her curse, he tells her, but Vassa has to work to feign interest, let alone believe him.

In both her human and firebird forms, her body feels as if its wrapped tight with cotton and pain, everything muffled, everything a strain. Elain’s laughter is harsh against her ears, Lucien’s worried looks are cloying and overfilled with pity. She hates that she cannot bear them.

She finds herself, one night, in the doorway of the High Lord’s bedroom, where Tamlin has been forced to wait for his innards to knit themselves together again. Already he looks fully healed to Vassa, but Elain has compelled him to remain in bed and Tamlin is clearly too besotted to put up much resistance.

“I see Lucien and Elain are still away,” he says when she greets him, the words not quite as jovial as he intends. A creature like that, forced into confinement, never rests easy. “Elain barely sleeps. She thinks only of breaking your curse.”

“Do you think that there is hope?” Vassa does not ask about Lucien, who no longer speaks to her about the breaking of the curse, but who is away with Elain, and who stays awake puzzling at all hours over reams of parchment and obscure spellbooks that smell like centuries of dust. Vassa falls asleep and he is leaning over his desk, making annotations, and when she wakes before dawn, she keeps finding Lucien in the same position.

“I believe in Elain,” Tamlin says, his gaze landing on her so powerfully that Vassa is reminded of what it means to be a High Lord, “I think she is only beginning to realize her capabilities. If she says it can be done, I believe her.”

“I am not so sure. I think Lucien has lost hope.” She has not made this confession to Elain or to Lucien himself because she can imagine the vast sadness in their eyes, the onset of grief. That she would be lost to them.

Still, even the sadness in Tamlin’s face is enough to steal her breath. She, who was bred and raised to withstand armies.

“I think Lucien would sacrifice the world if it meant keeping you safe.”

“In the stories,” she says, leaning on the threshold, “you were not nearly so perceptive.”

“If the stories are true, they describe me rightly as a monster.”

“You sacrificed yourself at the Autumn Court. No monster of my acquaintance has ever been so noble.”

“I knew this court would go on without me. The stories say you were beloved in Scythia.”

“All I ever wanted was to rule,” she says, because a queen accepts a compliment gracefully, but it’s been so long since she was last among her people that she’s beginning to wonder if it is true. If the things she’s always thought she wanted are the things she truly wants, now.

“Before you return--” Tamlin begins, but he’s interrupted by a flurry of footsteps, the intake of breath that precedes Elain’s voice.

“We figured out how to break the curse!” she announces, a riot of joy as she sweeps into the room, careful not to make contact with Vassa.

Behind her, Lucien and her sisters take a more sedate walk, and before Vassa steels herself to meet Lucien’s eyes, she takes in the careful void of emotion on Feyre Cursebreaker’s face, as she walks into Tamlin’s bedroom. Vassa knows enough of Prythian gossip to know what a moment this is, even if the tableau is innocent, the High Lord convalescing and his gaze intent on Elain, all pride and delight.

“Is it true?” Vassa makes herself ask, wrenching her eyes on Lucien. The deep violet under his eyes.

She does not miss the look that passes between him and Elain, the weight of it.

Still, he nods.

“When I touch you,” Elain says, her voice gone serious, “the pain is unique because my magic is attempting to pull the curse out of this world and into another, where it cannot harm you. But as part of his adjustments to the spell, Koschei ensured that if I removed the spell, I would shatter your humanity. That’s why I couldn’t take you from this world. I would kill you.”

“I was Made High Fae under similar circumstances,” Feyre says, every inch the High Lady even in her sweater and leggings and boots scuffed with wear. “But after realizing that assembling the High Lords was unlikely, Elain thought that Nesta, who can Make and Unmake, and I, with power of the High Lords, might be able to approximate their capacities. We’ve been determining a theory and practicing the spell and its timing for the past week.”

“ Someone is too slow with her magic,” Nesta interjects, rolling her eyes towards Feyre even as she smiles at Vassa with the confidence of an alpha predator.

If Vassa hadn’t been listening so closely, that would have been the moment she thought that everything would be resolved.

But: “I would be High Fae?”

“The combination of your curse and our magic means that you would have to become something new,” Feyre says, in a voice she no doubt uses on her child when he is so tired that all he can do is sob. The way that Vassa feels now.

All her life, she was raised to be the human queen of Scythia. She had always envisioned herself returning to rule there for the rest of the years that remained to her. Because she grew up learning the history of the faeries of this world. Such a queen would never be recognized, would never be accepted.

She would no longer be Queen Vassa of Scythia. She would no longer be a firebird, or a cursed queen, or a human woman.

She would no longer live with this curse eating its way through her, the fire raging in her veins as it prepares to swallow her whole.

She turns to Lucien, meets his eyes for the first time since he walked in the room. Sees the despair in them, the fear, and the hope. And another emotion, which at this moment Vassa can hardly bear. Still, she does not look away from him, tries to etch his expression into her mind, so that she’ll never forget his russet and gold gaze, which sees everything that makes up this world, the lips she’s kissed a thousand times, the bronze skin and red-orange-gold of his hair. The jagged scar which only highlights the handsome angles of his face and makes him more dear to her, for everything that he’s survived. Her Lucien, with his clever remarks and the wit that makes her cackle with laughter, whispering secrets and endearments to her every night, who has always made her feel as if maybe it were possible to live under this curse, so long as her life was illuminated by his light.

“This magic could kill you,” he says, “or destroy you past the point of recovery.”

She thinks of what it felt like, when Elain touched her this last time. What she might become even if the Archeron sisters are successful.

“How much longer do I have if we do nothing?” She tries to stay calm, not to upset Lucien, but still the words feel jagged in her throat.

“It’s possible that Koschei could reverse the spell,” Elain says, “if we compel him.”

For the first time since she’s entered the room, Tamlin speaks.

“You will not offer yourself to the death-lord,” he growls.

Elain moves toward him, but Vassa reaches toward her first, her fingers grasping for Elain’s wrist. A bolt of pain that shocks through her. The kind of pain that carries its end within itself, which cannot last forever.

Vassa thinks, in a rush, of all those new years she might have with Lucien, should this plan succeed. All the nights where the pain of holding him has overwhelmed her. Who she might be, at the end of this. No more days trapped within the mind of the firebird, no more nights watching the life drip out of her. There will be pain, but maybe, after, there will be something new. A future she has never even allowed herself to imagine.

“Break the curse,” she says.

For the first time in a long while, she sounds like her rightful self.

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lunarreaper-ut · 3 years

Text

Not Undertale related

I re-read the document with info on that Left 4 Dead alternate universe I made and I decided I’d share it here despite it not at all being Undertale related. I’ll put it under the cut if you’re interested! Warning, it’s long as hecc! And I mean... HECCIN long

Imagine the L4D universe after the remaining humans and military regained their foothold to fight the infected, and save themselves. Imagine they were aware of Carriers. Imagine this world wouldn’t just kill off the Carriers, and would treat them like humans (For the most part at least). They would create settlements completely divided, Carriers to their district, uninfected to theirs. The military would have a large amount of influence in these cities. The Carrier district would essentially be slums, or at least extremely poor. They would need to become self-sufficient, as the rest of humanity didn’t care for them or even wished for them to die out. These districts would be encased in walls. Some Carriers would say it’s better than being dead. Others would disagree.

Now, imagine Carriers went beyond simply being asymptomatic. What if Carriers did mutate? Rather than being simple common infected Carriers, what if (Based on the way the virus mutates depending on certain circumstances), the conditions for the virus to mutate into a specific special infected (Boomer, Smoker, Hunter, etc.) were met, but the Carrier didn’t turn? A new advanced special infected. Still retaining their sentience, still technically human, but much stronger. The military wouldn’t just leave them alone, they’d use them. This would implement Project Carrier. Any special infected Carriers would be rounded up and enlisted in the military. The better they did, the better the Carrier district did. They would, not only receive personal benefits, but would help the Carrier district receive better supplies. Medical supplies, food (as I imagine the Carrier districts would often be low on food), even improved living conditions. Carrier Soldiers would also be used in medical research to create a vaccine to combat the virus.

Despite this, Carrier Soldiers were seen as traitors to their kind, infected that needed to be killed by others, and experiments to the military. They’d be under constant surveillance to ensure they didn’t step out of line. Special infected were already smart enough to outsmart an unprepared soldier (Not that the military would admit that), and a Carrier Soldier was just a mutated human. If they weren’t kept on a tight leash, they could easily overthrow the military with enough careful planning. Thankfully, there were very few special infected Carriers.

This brings in all the technical stuff that I might get wrong.

The percentages of special infected to regular infected have been confirmed by in-game lore:

Special infected percentages are very low, the highest being 9% (The Hunter), (with Witches being unlisted due to either exceedingly low numbers or inability to safely study), which would mean that most special infected Carriers (Hereby called Special Carriers or SCs), would be Hunters most commonly. Of course I’ll write down theoretical abilities for each type of SC. Unfortunately there’s no information I could find that stated how many survivors were actually Carriers. Of course the in-game playable characters, but that would only amount to 8 (12 if you count the characters exclusive from the L4D survivors) out of all of the encountered NPCs, which of course I could use as a base if it weren’t for “The Sacrifice” comic, which showed the survivors heading to Millhaven and seeing a large amount of bodies being burned. It’s implied that these bodies were Carriers, but it’s also possible that they were simply people who died in millhaven or even common infected that were killed. This skews the numbers a fair bit, so I will use the original 8 survivors and NPCs listed in the wiki.

Rounding numbers up, Uninfected survivors would make up about 87% of the population while Carriers would be 13%. Based on the comics, Carriers are primarily male and the only female survivors would be the daughters of male Carriers. Since there are only 2 female survivors out of the 8, that would make a 25% chance of a female Carrier. This will become important later. Maybe.

Since we have a rough percentage of how many survivors would be Carriers, how many of them statistically would be SCs? Well thanks to more math, I have that answer. Using the two previous charts, I was able to make this fancy new chart.

Again, due to a lack of data, Witch Carriers can’t be calculated accurately. However. We know that there is a rough percentage of 25% of Carriers being female, (Well, we don’t know that but let's assume it’s true). It can also be observed that some of the special infected seem to be gender restricted. Hunters, Smokers, Chargers, Jockeys, and Tanks all seem to be male restricted with Spitters being female restricted. (The Boomer is the only exception to this rule). If we subtract half of the percentage of Boomers (To make it simple) and the percentage of Spitters, we get a 24.1% of presumably Common female Carriers.

This is where it comes mostly up to assumptions and hypotheses.

We know that the Witches are just as, if not rarer, than Tanks which make up only 3% of all infected, and only roughly 8% of all Special Infected. We only see the Tank about 1-2 times (though 2 is rare on Expert) per level in L4D, and the Witch, (Excluding the Sugar Mill), has the same spawn-rate. This would make their rarity at least equal to that of the Tank. This would make both the Tank and the Witch roughly 4% of the Special Infected population, and 0.7% of all Infected. Now normally I’d assume that it would be easy enough to put the percentage of Witch Carriers into the chart, but the problem arises with the percentage of female Carriers, which, as you recall, is only 25% with 0.9% already being accounted for as Spitters and Boomers. It’s highly likely that the majority of the remaining 24.1% are Common Carriers, due to the circumstances required to become a Special Infected. Becoming a Witch infected is highly assumed to be a result of an altered mental state, (Loss of sanity or Depression), which is far different from the other infected. All the other infected seem to have a physical condition met in order to become said Special Infected, (Health problems, excess of certain chemicals, etc.).

Now of course you could say, “Well everyone just went through the apocalypse, wouldn’t they all be hella depressed?”, and I would say “Yeah probably.”. However, there is a difference between feeling depressed and clinical depression. It would be a bit far-fetched to assume that all Witches were diagnosed as clinically depressed, but I believe it would make more sense due to the fact that every person can experience depression, but not every person is clinically depressed. Otherwise, I believe there would be a much higher rate of Witch infected if the cause was simply depression on it’s own.

A study in 2016 showed that about 10.4% of women were found to have depression. (Yeah outdated, I’m sure the number is higher now, but we’re using this one). This can be applied to our charts, however there is no way to tell how much of this percentage lies within the Carrier community. Majority of this percentage is certainly within the Uninfected community, purely based on the low percentage of women within the Carrier community. Only 3.25% of women would be Carriers in this scenario, leaving over 96% of women uninfected. Because of this, statistically, we can assume next to none of the Carrier women are clinically depressed. To keep things simple, I’m going to go with the assumption that less than 0.1% of Carriers become Witch Carriers.

Now that we have all of the statistics out of the way, what exactly would these SCs be like? How extensive are the mutations? I have theories! I’ll continue that in the next post though, since this is already long as hecc... Their abilities are a lot more interesting, so stay tuned!

#Not undertale #Still interesting though!#To me at least...#Maybe that's because it's my au #Left 4 Dead #l4d #Alternate universe #Luna's rambles #Luna's writing #Project Carrier

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