#because it was based on faulty information

[mommalosthermind]

Y’all. I don’t think Kaeya was actually left as a spy. I don’t.

It makes less and less sense the more lore we learn. I mean. Kaeya clearly seems to think he was left as a spy, but. I also think Kaeya was something like 8-12 years old, and traumatized, and therefore not exactly in the best place to understand Dad’s fucking dramatic little speech before Dad straight up abandoned him in a strange land.

I think he’s the last hope because he’s alive.

He’s so fucking important just because he’s himself— the abyss twin, the order, Dain, no one knows he exists.

Khaenri’ah fell. It has no need of spies. It just needs Kaeya to live.

#kaeya #genshin impact #listen i wrote a whole ass essay and then deleted it because im incoherent when i get going #but the POINT IS. Kaeya left as a spy makes no sense. and imma stand by that until hoyoverse gives me better info lmao #which!! makes the diluc kaeya rift UNNECESSARILY MORE TRAGIC #because it was based on faulty information #because KAeya’s entire SENSE OF SELF is faulty information #anyway instead of listening to me yell go watch Ashikai on YT because she’s better at Words #my son! the best fuck you to celestial is to LIVE! go forth and have khaenriahn babies! #is what his dad shoulda Fucking said

[somethingpersonarelated]

On simplifying Akechi

My brain was ridden with these ideas people have about Akechi that piss me off a little. Mostly ones that say he is "just crazy" or "just hates Joker." There's countless metaposts countering these arguments (and they are absolutely wonderful) but I often wonder WHY simplifying Akechi down is so appealing, even to people who are fans of his character. I can't say I've never been immune to simplifications of his character either, and I feel like that's important to admit. I don't even think it's necessarily a bad thing, but I was wondering about that why question.

TW: Discussions of mental health and child abuse

Source: A high schooler's holiday from the P5 Comic Anthology (read it here!)

I do think it's hard for all of the little things Akechi's character builds upon to be conveyed through a single playthrough. If you go in blind or don't finish his confidant, you may only get that surface level exploration of his character. Base Akechi is flashy and still gets the point across that it needs to: he's a foil to Joker and the PTs. However, by missing out on his social links and special events, you miss cultural, relationship, and personal context.

Many words have been said about the translation, particularly in the engine room, being faulty in areas. But some people still don't understand that Akechi's plan isn't to kill Shido, even when the text makes that clear. There's also this scene with Shido, which reads more as an exposition dump in a long section of the game most players will either tune out or skip. Not everything you see will always stick in your head, and Persona is a LONG game. I feel like it's easy to forget people just... forget canon sometimes. It's easier to put these details aside and say Akechi isn't affected by the system he's raised in. But the reality is, you miss what Lavenza says about Akechi's role, you miss that one exposition scene, and you miss the confidant: you believe Akechi had much more autonomy than was actually true. In conversations I've had with people IRL about Persona, 2/3 either skipped or did not finish Akechi's confidant. It isn't improbable, playtimes can range from 100-300 hours, most playthroughs take weeks. People will forget things. It isn't a maybe, it WILL happen.

When the game feeds you so much information, it's also easier to take what the characters say at face value. Doing this with Akechi will bite your ass. Those words in Rank 8 are directly expanded upon in No More What Ifs, the engine room, and 2/2. Maruki and Morgana confirm Akechi doesn't hate Joker, but you never hear Akechi say it himself. To me the game beats you over the head with this information (as the game has a tendency to do for certain situations), but I've also been in the rabbit hole for over a year now.

There's also this idea that recognizing that Akechi was set up by Yaldabaoth, his upbringing, and Shido means that all the venom is taken away from his actions. That isn't true, and Akechi holds to that in third semester. He doesn't give himself any grace for the situation he landed in, wanting to take accountability for it when it is undone without his consent. Akechi is by no means a perfect victim, and he doesn't believe that either. Recognizing that he had no choice, it was either homelessness and neglect or the plan he conjured himself only brings to light the tragedy of his situation, not whether his actions were morally incorrect. He wanted his father to be in his life, and he wanted his father to suffer. He wanted to have someone like Ren in his life, and he couldn't have someone like Ren because his plan would be jeopardized. It's a series of choices, some of which are forced upon him, some of which he chooses himself. That is an important distinction to make.

There's also this idea that Akechi is 'just crazy,' or never suffered from abuse or events that affected him long term. That he doesn't suffer from unspecified mental health conditions or trauma, and chose everything with a clear mind. When someone brings up this argument, it's usually in response to people talking about his life experiences. That somehow, the existence of trauma or a condition is an excuse for whatever he did. There's a double standard here: Akechi is someone who suffers from a condition that makes him 'plain crazy', simplifying his entire motivation and role in the story, while also removing him from the context of his mother, Shido, and his experience with the foster system. Actually interacting with these facets of his character brings to light the challenging things the story asks you to think about when it comes to Akechi: Is he a victim? Is he like the Phantom Thieves? What about his situation informed his choices? Interacting with this requires effort and an actual acknowledgement about what it means to be someone that suffers from trauma. Calling him 'plain crazy' not only is in disservice of textual analysis, but more importantly incorrect (and frankly, it falls straight into ableist tropes about mental health).

Sometimes internet debates/discourse lead to simplification, even just random headcanons may lead to simplification. That isn't always bad. There are many ways to say what I said here in fewer words. I, unfortunately, am not skilled enough to do that. But some of these simplifications lead to entirely incorrect judgements about a character, or even about mental health issues. When that happens, I wish people would learn to reflect about what that means when they interact with a piece of media. Or even with other people.

tldr: people should learn to say they just don't like things instead of coming up with excuses that make no sense. basically

#p5 #p5 meta #goro akechi #p5 discourse #p5r #p5 spoilers #thinking-emoji #a rant i am so sorry

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

Ideas for subverting popular character tropes? I've started a story and am having difficulty making my cast of characters unique. I'd love it if you had any fresh takes on tropes like the mentor, the sidekick, etc...

POPULAR CHARACTER TROPES AND PROMPTS TO SUBVERT THEM

A character trope, sometimes called a character archetype, is a “recognizable element within a story or plot that defines or conveys information about a character. Character tropes can either define a character's entire role in a plot or the character's personality or motivations.” (source: arcstudiopro).

Many people bash “tropes,” but what you have to remember is that there is no such thing as a unique idea; everything has been done before, and the reason why tropes are so popular is because (a lot of time) they work!

It is totally possible to have a "normal" trope in your story without making it a cliché. However, if you’re looking to subvert these expectations, here’s a list of ideas I’ve come up with!

(This is me brainstorming on the fly to help get your gears turning, so I apologize if these aren’t fully fleshed out or if they’ve already been done before!)

1. THE CHOSEN ONE

The “Chosen One” is a trope where “one character is framed as the inevitable hero or antihero of the story, as a result of destiny, unique gifts, and/or special lineage” (source: Wikipedia). The Chosen One is often depicted as naive or unwilling at the beginning, and has a progression of growth through the narrative when they “accept their destiny.”

Examples:

Luke Skywalker (Star Wars)

Harry Potter (Harry Potter)

Frodo (The Lord of the Rings)

Neo (The Matrix)

Subversions:

1. The protagonist who was believed to be the chosen one from the very beginning discovers that it was actually someone else the whole time and must come to terms with the realization that they no longer have this title that they’ve based their entire life (and perhaps personality) around. (Bonus points if the new Chosen One is someone they’re close to).

2. Every solstice, the “Holy Order” sends a Chosen One to defeat the monster that has been ravaging their town. None ever return. The protagonist is selected as the next Chosen One, only to find that being Chosen does not mean “Chosen to defeat the monster” but rather “Chosen as the sacrifice to appease the monster.” (Bonus points if the reason the Chosen Ones always die is because the “Holy Order” misguides them (gives them broken weapons/drugged food/faulty armor/directs them into traps/etc.)).

3. Having the Chosen Power comes with a price. After someone is Chosen, it is a death sentence. The protagonist must find a way to defeat the villain AND purge themself of the Chosen Power before it’s too late (Bonus points if the villain helps them purge the Chosen Power).

2. THE SIDEKICK

The sidekick is a friend and helper of the main protagonist. They are often depicted as a loyal comic relief character made to emphasize the hero’s greatness, and may be killed off to advance the hero’s journey.

Examples:

Robin (Batman)

Samwise Gamgee (The Lord of the Rings)

Chewbacca (Star Wars)

Pan (His Dark Materials)

Subversions:

1. The “sidekick” is actually the hero of the story; the narrator just has an inflated ego and believes themself to be the hero. Meanwhile, their “sidekick” is the one saving the world.

2. Sidekicks are often depicted as younger than the hero. Perhaps an older sidekick might do good to spice things up (Bonus points if it’s without turning them into the mentor trope).

3. The sidekick is a former hero who had to watch their own sidekick sacrifice themself, and was convinced to leave hiding by the current hero. (Bonus points if the sidekick dies in a poetic way that is a narrative foil to the way his own sidekick died, perhaps in a “I didn’t understand why they would sacrifice themself for me but now I get it”).

4. A ridiculously strong/powerful Mary Sue type character is the sidekick to a Normal Guy™ (Bonus points if they are incredibly content in this position).

5. The sidekick is not a willing sidekick; they were kidnapped by the hero because they have an object/bloodline/power/etc. that is essential to defeating the villain.

3. THE MENTOR

The Mentor is the protagonist’s teacher, who helps them transition from a “normal” person into a hero. The Mentor is often depicted as wise and virtuous, teaching the protagonist not only the ways of fighting or magic, but also the ways of good and evil. The mentor is often killed off to advance the hero’s character arc, due to the fact that they are sometimes seen as a parental figure.

Examples:

Dumbledore (Harry Potter)

Yoda (Star Wars)

Uncle Iroh (Avatar the Last Airbender)

Mr. Miyagi (Karate Kid)

Subversions:

1. The mentor is the narrator. After spending so much time training the Chosen One and raising them like their own child, they must hear news that they have been killed by the villain. While still grieving (or perhaps fueled by revenge), the mentor must venture out and defeat the villain themself.

2. Have the mentor be a woman! You would be shocked at how overwhelmingly male-dominated the “mentor” archetype is!

3. The mentor turns on the protagonist that they trained…not because the mentor has turned evil, but because the mentor believes that the protagonist has become a monster (à la Kung Fu Panda). (Bonus points if the mentor is actually right and the protagonist really has become a monster).

4. The bright-eyed Chosen One thinks the world of their mentor, only to realize through experiences with others that the mentor trained them horribly, and that the mentor only used their training to boost their renown—without expecting them to survive their fight with the villain. (Bonus points if the protagonist is an unreliable narrator, and we as the readers feel just as betrayed by the mentor because we, too, thought they were a great person).

5. The mentor is the former Chosen One, desperate for the current Chosen One to not make the same mistakes. The current Chosen One resents the mentor for pushing them so hard and treating them so cruelly, but in reality the mentor is just overprotective (Bonus points if it’s not revealed that they were the legendary “Defeated Chosen One” until later).

4. THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

Although a Damsel in Distress is often associated with female characters, any character is capable of falling into this archetype; mostly known for being a passive figure who exists mostly as an object for the hero to save.

This is one of the few character tropes that is difficult to break the negative stigma, due to its root in misogyny and the disadvantages that come along with having a character without personal goals or motivations. In my opinion, if you have a character that follows this archetype to the T, perhaps you should consider some revising.

Examples:

Lois Lane (Superman)

Princess Buttercup (The Princess Bride)

Mary Jane Watson (Spiderman)

Ann Darrow (King Kong)

Subversions:

1. The passive, meek damsel in distress whom the hero has been working relentlessly to save actually turns out to be a villain! Their supposed rescue efforts were used as a distraction while the evil plot unfolds, and ends with a fight to the death!

2. The damsel in distress gets in a huge fight with the protagonist when they come to the rescue; they were undercover the entire time, and the protagonist has ruined their plans!

5. THE FEMME FATALE

The femme fatale is usually characterized as a mysterious woman who seduces and entraps men with her body. This doesn’t necessarily have to be a gendered archetype, but often errs into sexualization and misogyny (especially in works written by men).

Examples:

Jane Smith (Mr. & Mrs. Smith)

Nikita (La Femme Nikita)

Catwoman (Batman)

Catherine Tramell (Basic Instinct)

Subversions:

1. The Femme Fatale doesn’t know they’re a femme fatale. They are a master of seduction and gaining valuable information through licentious wiles, but it’s all an accident; they just-so-happen to sleep with rivals and they just-so-happen to say important information. The femme fatale casually brings this information up in conversation, rendering the team awed by their “impressive skill set.”

2. The Femme Fatale is male or nonbinary (Bonus points if they will seduce any gender).

3. There is a Femme Fatale team; an icy power couple dedicated to killing through threesomes.

6. THE GEEK (OR MAD SCIENTIST OR NERD OR KNOW-IT-ALL ETC.)

The Geek, or the Mad Scientist, is the character known for knowing everything. They often have a lack of social skills, and their vast knowledge of random things helps the characters when they’ve been backed into a corner…though they sometimes tend to be a quick fix for writers who’ve written their characters into a corner and need an easy solution.

Examples:

Sheldon (The Big Bang Theory)

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

Spock (Star Trek)

L (Death Note)

Subversions:

1. The Geek has leadership skills and ability to inspire others. Awkward is not the complete opposite of charismatic; just because someone may have trouble talking to people doesn’t mean they can’t foster intense loyalty from their comrades. (Think along the lines of L from Death Note. Bonus if they’re the leader of their organization, and their subordinates would face God and walk backwards into Hell for them).

2. Combine the Geek with another archetype, perhaps an antithesis archetype like the Dumb Jock. For example, a Geek that enjoys the outdoors and extreme sports like rock climbing (but rather than to get buff, they just want to look at the fantastic granite deposits on the side of the mountain they’re climbing). Or perhaps a Geek Femme Fatale, whose “special interest” is the psychology of seduction.

3. The Geek hates what they do. The “passion” that Geeks usually have for machines/non-humans/their chosen expertise is forced upon them because they’re super smart. In reality, they’d wanted to take it easy going to business school but nooooo the world was at stake so they had to become an expert in the intergalactic space-time continuum.

4. The Geek is useless. Their musings are more mania than genius, their explanations and ideas incomprehensible to a normal human being, and the group only keeps them around with the hopes that one day they’ll come up with an idea that actually makes sense. (Bonus if that idea comes at the climax of the story).

8. THE DUMB JOCK (OR HIMBO)

The dumb jock, also known as “the brawn,” is an archetype that is often categorized by being all buff and no brains. They often are, or at least begin as, the antagonist of the story, and if they aren’t, they’re considered the “Himbo” character (with character traits being buff, dumb, and respectful to women), who are often reduced merely to their attractiveness and stupidity, without much depth.

Examples:

Jason Carver (Stranger Things)

Mitch Downe (ParaNorman)

Kronk (The Emperor’s New Groove)

Bolin (The Legend of Korra)

Subversions:

1. The himbo and/or jock is frustrated with the way that their comrades always reduce them to the brawn. They feel left out and isolated because they can’t understand the lofty conversations of their peers, and know that they, in a way, look down on them for not being as smart (Bonus if this becomes a major plot point in the character’s arc, causing a huge blowout fight that fissures the group because of it).

2. The himbo/jock’s stupidity does not reduce them to comic relief. The himbo/jock is well-respected and has incredible emotional intelligence and charisma/street smarts, but merely lacks in textbook intelligence.

3. The himbo/jock is a woman! Break through the stereotype of dumb strong people being men and put some herbos in your story (Bonus if you don’t sexualize her and just let her be herself).

4. An idea from the jock/himbo becomes an integral part of the plan to save the world!

9. THE ANTIHERO

The antihero archetype is categorized by their lack of conventional heroic attributes, their execution of their goals through morally gray means, and their frequent reluctance to be the one saving the world. Their motivations may be vengeance, hatred, or any other less-than heroic inspiration besides “the greater good.” In fact, the antihero is sometimes the antagonist of the story, but due to the fact that the audience is seeing things from their perspective, they often tend to root for them.

The antihero used to be its own subversion of the “Chosen One” archetype, but became so widespread that it itself became its own archetype. That’s why antiheroes are so varied, to the point where you may not even need a subversion due to how many possible ideas there are to choose from. (This was the hardest list to make!)

Examples:

Barry Berkman (Barry)

Harley Quinn (DC)

Cassie Thomas (Promising Young Woman)

Deadpool (Deadpool)

Subversions:

1. The antihero feels guilt. Oftentimes, an antihero is depicted as stone-cold and dead-set on their actions (and sometimes they’re right! If someone killed my family, I wouldn’t care about “being the bigger person”). However, an interesting subversion may be guilt or self-awareness surrounding their actions playing a large role in the execution of their goals.

2. The antihero is not a lone wolf, and develops meaningful and positive relationships with others rather than having it be 90% snarky banter. Sometimes, antiheroes suffer from a lack of three-dimensionality due to most of their dialogue being cheeky one-liners. Anchor them solidly into the story by building a web of relationships to support them! (They don’t have to all be lovey-dovey, either! Even enemy relationships can be more than snark).

3. An honor code. Giving an antihero with an interesting honor code regarding killing, stealing, or any of their other morally gray deeds could be an excellent subversion! Having characters who are stone-cold killers but draw the line (perhaps in an odd way, such as refusing to steal cars or kill pets), somewhere can be a great way to develop their personality and show the readers their motivations.

Hope these all helped, and happy writing!

#writing #writers #writeblr #booklr #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #creative writing #characters #character tropes

[faulty-writes]

Hi, I was wondering if it was alright for you to make a scenario or drabble based of of something? Ok so my birthday is coming up and every year there's a meteor shower that happens around the same time, and I've always wanted to have someone sit with me and watch the metor shower. Problem is, it only happens at like 4 or 5 am! So I was thinking that y/n could have this happen to them where everyone is too tired, but Bakugou, the man who goes to bed at 8, is the one that actually joins them. <3

[ Happy Early or Belated Birthday! I know this request took me some time to get to. But either way, happy wishes to you, my dear! Consider this your birthday present from me! I hope you enjoy it! With much love❤️, Faulty. ]

Tsuyu sat next to you on the couch and asked, "Ribbit, what are you reading?" Uraraka was sitting to your left and Kyoka and Momo were sitting in a nearby chair. "Yeah, you've been staring at that pamphlet all night," Kyoka said.

"Is that something for school?" Momo asked as you placed the pamphlet on your thigh and shook your head. "You all know it's my birthday tomorrow, right?" you asked. Uraraka replied, "Of course! We wouldn't forget your birthday."

"Heh," you picked up the pamphlet and opened it to reveal information about something peculiar. "Every year there's this meteor shower on my birthday, and…" you paused, looking at each girl. Before enrolling at Yuuei you attended a private boarding school and never really made any friends.

Not that it mattered because you watched the meteor shower alone for as long as you could remember but this year would be different! "There was something I wanted to ask…" You took a deep breath and pressed your hands against your chest. "Would you mind watching the meteor shower with me?"

Silence followed until Kyoka spoke. "What time is the meteor shower?" She asked, leaning against Momo who wrapped her arms around her. "Uh…oh well…" you rubbed the back of your head, feeling your stomach twist.

Another reason you watched the meteor shower alone every year was because the astrological event took place at "4 in the morning," as expected, their faces twisted with uncertainty. "Uh, huh," Uraraka glanced around, hoping to hear from one of the girls.

It was then that you felt Tsuyu's hand on your shoulder. "Hm?" You looked at her, and her sympathetic smile. "Well, we'll see what we can do, but it's a school night." Unfortunately, you couldn't help but frown despite her good intentions.

"Oh, right…" You looked down at your hands, now curled on your lap. "I…I think I'm going to go to my room," you said, standing up. "Huh? What's wrong?" Momo asked. "Is everything okay?" Uraraka reached out to grab your arm, but you shook your head.

"Nothing to worry about…I'm just tired," you said, stepping on the pamphlet as you walked away. Katsuki was leaning against the nearby wall with his arms crossed as you made your way to your room with your head hanging low.

He raised an eyebrow as you disappeared down the hallway. "Tch," he snarled and followed behind you, his steps swift and silent. Luckily, you seemed too focused on your thoughts to notice him until you reached your door, and he used his quirk.

As soon as his palm touched your door, a loud 'boom' sounded, and you scrambled back into him, eyes tightly shut. There was no surprise that his quirk was blinding, and the noise made your ears ring briefly. "What the hell is going on!?" you growled, blinking once or twice to readjust your vision.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms. He took a deep breath and sighed, debating on what to say. After a moment, he spoke, "Your birthday is coming up." You continued to rub your irritated eyes and hissed "Yeah so!?" in reply.

"Why the hell did you ask extras to spend your birthday with you?" Your eyebrows knitted, and your hands curled into fists. Opening your mouth, you were about to yell at him but stumbled back and into your door when he stepped forward.

"You think it'd matter watching some damn meteor shower with them!?" His words made your heart sink, and you curled your fingers inward, feeling your nails dig into your palms. You weren't sure whether you would react with anger or tears.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore his gaze. "Does that matter to you?" Your words were coated in anger. "Usually, I watch the meteor shower alone. I shouldn't have thought it would be different this time."

As painful as those words were, you knew they were true. Are you destined to watch such a spectacular phenomenon on your own forever? You lifted your head, once again ready to scream at Katsuki. However, to your surprise, he laid a gentle hand on your shoulder making you freeze yet stiffen in response.

His serious expression contrasted with the confused look on your face, which would have made him smirk otherwise. "You shouldn't waste your time asking extras anything like that, dumbass!" Your eyes widened and you leaned back, feeling various emotions fill you.

The strongest ones were anger and sadness, and you struggled again to respond to Katsuki. "Y-yeah, I'll remember that…thanks," you said bitterly as he raised his eyebrows. Your response to his questionable expression was a monotone one before you opened your door.

Even though there was a soot stain embedded in the wood of it, you entered your room half expecting him to stop you. Instead, he only raised his hand, wanting to say something but ultimately deciding not to. After closing the door, you slumped against it and sighed.

'Why did I ask them!? I'm so stupid!' Gritting your teeth and putting your hands into your hair, you grunted in frustration and slid to the floor. The fact that it was your birthday tomorrow didn't matter to you, as it now felt even less special. Katsuki may have been right.

If your friends didn't want to spend time with you during your birthday, doing something with you that held sentimental value, then were they really friends? As a potential hero, you know never to let darkness cloud your thoughts or heart.

Nonetheless, it was hard not to let your emotions take over. Taking a look around your room, you sighed again. "Might as well just get ready for bed…" yeah maybe you just needed to sleep this off. After changing into your appropriate sleeping wear, you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling.

Sleep didn't come easily to you, and you knew why. After lying awake for hours, you grunted and pondered whether pacing around your bedroom might finally exhaust you enough to get some shut-eye. However, this was not the case, and you looked at the clock after pacing for what seemed like hours.

It was just past midnight and you growled, frustrated with yourself. "Is there something wrong with me?" You hissed, ready to scream when you caught a glimpse of the night sky through the window curtain. Slowly pulling back the curtain, you were bathed in the gentle glow of the moon.

As you stared at the brilliant sparkling dots that adorned the sky, the world froze, and you breathed a sigh of contentment. Something unusual, however, stood out among the stars. As you leaned toward the window and pressed your hands against the cool glass you knitted your eyebrows trying to make sense of it.

You realized what you were looking at after a moment and clasped your hands together in glee, before exclaiming, "A shooting star!" Like a child, you believed in the concept of wishing on a shooting star. On the basis of that, you closed your eyes and wished for what your heart desired.

There was nothing more simple than wanting someone, just one person, to watch the meteor shower with you. The shooting star was nowhere to be found when you opened your eyes, but you smiled anyway. The next morning went as usual, you received a few birthday wishes and a few small gifts, but nothing major.

It's not like you expected a big party. As a matter of fact, you didn't give a damn. You were only looking forward to the meteor shower. After a brief sleep that night, you awoke promptly at three in the morning. Before climbing onto the roof of the student dorm building, you changed into a different outfit and gathered some supplies.

You shivered as you laid the blanket down on the roof, luckily you brought some hot chocolate thermoses to warm you up. You sighed contently as you drank one and let the steam caress your chilled face and your nose inhale the sweet chocolate aroma.

After a minute or two, you picked up your phone to check the time. "Almost…" you said, putting it away. After another sip of hot chocolate, you capped the thermos and pulled your knees up to your chest. When you finally saw the first meteor soar through the sky, you gasped in awe.

The rest soon followed, illuminating the otherwise dark sky. You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn't hear someone approach you until one of your shoulders was touched. A hand clamped over your mouth when you screamed out in surprise.

"Shut up! If you don't, you'll wake everyone in the building, and I don't need that damn Deku bothering us," your eyes widened, and you immediately recognized the voice. You pulled his hand away from your mouth, turning to look at him.

"Bakugou?" you asked in disbelief, unable to see his facial features clearly but feeling his glare nonetheless. After a few seconds, you turned back to watch the meteor shower. At the same time, you notice the temperature of your cheeks increasing.

If it were lighter outside, Katsuki would see that said cheeks were dusted a soft red color. "I just…I didn't expect you to join me," you said, briefly remembering your wish. Regardless of whether it was the shooting star or Katsuki's own decision to join you, your heart was racing.

For once you weren't alone watching the meteor shower. As he sat beside you on the blanket, you tensed up. "Just…you're normally the person who goes to bed first, so…" you swallowed heavily. "I'm just surprised to see you up at this hour."

As his eyes followed the meteors' path, he replied, "Tch, oh yeah?" He grumbled and brought one leg up to his chest, resting his elbow on it. "When those damn extras you call your 'friends' refused to watch this with you I…" He clenched his jaw. He wasn't used to or thought it appropriate to share his feelings.

Yet somehow you felt like a completely different case. What could he say he felt when he saw the look on your face when your 'friends' denied your request? On your damn birthday no less, it struck a chord. No…not a chord, more like a nerve in him.

It was impossible, he thought, for them to say no to you and still consider themselves your damn friends. Dumbasses are what they are, dumbasses who are not worth your time. Hell, he couldn't say all that. Instead, he glanced at you or at least in your direction.

When he moved his hand, his fingers brushed across the top of yours, making you gasp and snap your head toward him. You caught a glimpse of the smirk on his face. More than likely, he was proud of himself for causing such a reaction in you.

He looked back at the sky, which was still filled with meteors. Taking a deep breath, he watched it evaporate before him. He almost forgot how cold it was outside for a moment, but maybe that was because your warmth radiated through him.

"Look…" he began, "I don't do friendships but…" Okay maybe that was a lie, but the "friends" he had, like Eijirou and Hanta just forced their friendship on him, it's not like he asked for it. "As far as I'm concerned if someone you know is in need and asks you for a damn favor, you do it," he said with a growl.

"And if they refuse to do that damn favor, screw'em! They aren't worth your time and…yeah y-you're not my friend but I…care about you," he admitted, glancing away. "But don't tell anyone about that!" He snapped, making you jump in response. "I…I won't!" you replied, holding up your hands.

The tension between you two seemed to fade as you continued to observe the phenomenon before you and exchanged a few words over hot chocolate. Towards the end, your hands became intertwined and the distance between you grew smaller until you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder.

He tensed up a little at this simple act of affection but made no move to push you away or tell you to stop. Despite his quirk which many would think would give him rough skin, his hand was smooth, warm, and comforting.

Your chuckle broke the silence between you two. "Hm, what?" He demanded, and you shook your head trying to muffle your laughter. "N-nothing it's just...uh, f-funny," you said, continuing to snicker. He raised his eyebrow.

"What's funny?" he demanded, thinking you were laughing at him. You lifted your head, gazing into his eyes that were somehow visible in the dark. "I'm sorry, it's just that you told me not to waste my time with 'extras' for something like this." Your laughter died down.

"But you are the one watching it with me because you care," you said, smiling. After he blinked, almost as if he was trying to process the information you gave him, he leaned down and pressed his lips against your cheek, which made you squeak.

"Yeah well, I already said I care about you damn it, or did you miss that?!" He snarled, but you didn't react to this. Instead, you pressed your hand against your burning cheek. "A-and that kiss was?" He grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"I…I don't know. Consider it a damn…birthday gift…I guess," he replied and stiffened when you laughed again. "What is it this time!?" He snapped, and you shook your head. "Uh…nothing, just I…I wished on a shooting star I saw last night," you exhaled.

"Well, I guess you are my birthday wish so…thank you." His eyes widened and although you couldn't be certain, his cheeks seemed to light up. "Yeah well…whatever, just finish watching the meteor shower so we can go back inside. I'm losing sleep over this, dumbass…" he muttered, although part of him knew he didn't mean it.

Despite losing sleep, he was happy to spend time with you like this. A few hours later, he helped you pack everything you brought to the roof, walked you to your room and said goodnight. Although you felt incredibly tired by the time you got up from your short slumber, ate breakfast, and stumbled into class hunched over like a zombie.

The smile on your face was evident that you were still happy. Out of everyone who could have chosen to watch the meteor shower with you, Katsuki showed how kindhearted he was and frankly, you couldn't thank him enough. Taking a seat, you slumped down in your desk until you could see the ceiling.

Upon noticing your abnormal behavior, Ashido walked over. "Hey," she said, smiling before scratching her cheek. "Sorry, I missed your birthday yesterday. Uh, how was it? Did you have a good time watching the meteor shower?" She asked, slightly embarrassed.

"Hm? Oh…uh," you groaned, sitting back up and yawning loudly. "I mean…it was…" You glanced around the room, letting your eyes settle on Katsuki who was currently sitting at his desk with Eijirou and Hanta who were chatting his ear off.

However, that wasn't what made you smile, it was, yet again, remembering what he did for you. "Hm?" Ashido placed her hands on her hips and looked in the direction you were staring at. "What are you looking at?" She asked before scoffing.

"All I see is Bakugou over there," her response made you laugh, and she turned her head back. "What?" She demanded but you shook your head. "Nothing, nothing," you said, suppressing your laughter. "Yeah, I had an amazing time watching the meteor shower. Honestly, my birthday was…better than I could have wished."

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki x you #bakugou x y/n #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x fem!reader #katsuki x male reader #bakugou x male reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #bnha x self insert #bnha x fem!reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x y/n #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou: 23 #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou: one shot: 23

[pizzaronipasta]

READ THIS BEFORE INTERACTING

Alright, I know I said I wasn't going to touch this topic again, but my inbox is filling up with asks from people who clearly didn't read everything I said, so I'm making a pinned post to explain my stance on AI in full, but especially in the context of disability. Read this post in its entirety before interacting with me on this topic, lest you make a fool of yourself.

AI Doesn't Steal

Before I address people's misinterpretations of what I've said, there is something I need to preface with. The overwhelming majority of AI discourse on social media is argued based on a faulty premise: that generative AI models "steal" from artists. There are several problems with this premise. The first and most important one is that this simply isn't how AI works. Contrary to popular misinformation, generative AI does not simply take pieces of existing works and paste them together to produce its output. Not a single byte of pre-existing material is stored anywhere in an AI's system. What's really going on is honestly a lot more sinister.

How It Actually Works

In reality, AI models are made by initializing and then training something called a neural network. Initializing the network simply consists of setting up a multitude of nodes arranged in "layers," with each node in each layer being connected to every node in the next layer. When prompted with input, a neural network will propagate the input data through itself, layer by layer, transforming it along the way until the final layer yields the network's output. This is directly based on the way organic nervous systems work, hence the name "neural network." The process of training a network consists of giving it an example prompt, comparing the resulting output with an expected correct answer, and tweaking the strengths of the network's connections so that its output is closer to what is expected. This is repeated until the network can adequately provide output for all prompts. This is exactly how your brain learns; upon detecting stimuli, neurons will propagate signals from one to the next in order to enact a response, and the connections between those neurons will be adjusted based on how close the outcome was to whatever was anticipated. In the case of both organic and artificial neural networks, you'll notice that no part of the process involves directly storing anything that was shown to it. It is possible, especially in the case of organic brains, for a neural network to be configured such that it can produce a decently close approximation of something it was trained on; however, it is crucial to note that this behavior is extremely undesirable in generative AI, since that would just be using a wasteful amount of computational resources for a very simple task. It's called "overfitting" in this context, and it's avoided like the plague.

The sinister part lies in where the training data comes from. Companies which make generative AI models are held to a very low standard of accountability when it comes to sourcing and handling training data, and it shows. These companies usually just scrape data from the internet indiscriminately, which inevitably results in the collection of people's personal information. This sensitive data is not kept very secure once it's been scraped and placed in easy-to-parse centralized databases. Fortunately, these issues could be solved with the most basic of regulations. The only reason we haven't already solved them is because people are demonizing the products rather than the companies behind them. Getting up in arms over a type of computer program does nothing, and this diversion is being taken advantage of by bad actors, who could be rendered impotent with basic accountability. Other issues surrounding AI are exactly the same way. For example, attempts to replace artists in their jobs are the result of under-regulated businesses and weak worker's rights protections, and we're already seeing very promising efforts to combat this just by holding the bad actors accountable. Generative AI is a tool, not an agent, and the sooner people realize this, the sooner and more effectively they can combat its abuse.

Y'all Are Being Snobs

Now I've debunked the idea that generative AI just pastes together pieces of existing works. But what if that were how it worked? Putting together pieces of existing works... hmm, why does that sound familiar? Ah, yes, because it is, verbatim, the definition of collage. For over a century, collage has been recognized as a perfectly valid art form, and not plagiarism. Furthermore, in collage, crediting sources is not viewed as a requirement, only a courtesy. Therefore, if generative AI worked how most people think it works, it would simply be a form of collage. Not theft.

Some might not be satisfied with that reasoning. Some may claim that AI cannot be artistic because the AI has no intent, no creative vision, and nothing to express. There is a metaphysical argument to be made against this, but I won't bother making it. I don't need to, because the AI is not the artist. Maybe someday an artificial general intelligence could have the autonomy and ostensible sentience to make art on its own, but such things are mere science fiction in the present day. Currently, generative AI completely lacks autonomy—it is only capable of making whatever it is told to, as accurate to the prompt as it can manage. Generative AI is a tool. A sculpture made by 3D printing a digital model is no less a sculpture just because an automatic machine gave it physical form. An artist designed the sculpture, and used a tool to make it real. Likewise, a digital artist is completely valid in having an AI realize the image they designed.

Some may claim that AI isn't artistic because it doesn't require effort. By that logic, photography isn't art, since all you do is point a camera at something that already looks nice, fiddle with some dials, and press a button. This argument has never been anything more than snobbish gatekeeping, and I won't entertain it any further. All art is art. Besides, getting an AI to make something that looks how you want can be quite the ordeal, involving a great amount of trial and error. I don't speak from experience on that, but you've probably seen what AI image generators' first drafts tend to look like.

AI art is art.

Disability and Accessibility

Now that that's out of the way, I can finally move on to clarifying what people keep misinterpreting.

I Never Said That

First of all, despite what people keep claiming, I have never said that disabled people need AI in order to make art. In fact, I specifically said the opposite several times. What I have said is that AI can better enable some people to make the art they want to in the way they want to. Second of all, also despite what people keep claiming, I never said that AI is anyone's only option. Again, I specifically said the opposite multiple times. I am well aware that there are myriad tools available to aid the physically disabled in all manner of artistic pursuits. What I have argued is that AI is just as valid a tool as those other, longer-established ones.

In case anyone doubts me, here are all the posts I made in the discussion in question: Reblog chain 1 Reblog chain 2 Reblog chain 3 Reblog chain 4 Potentially relevant ask

I acknowledge that some of my earlier responses in that conversation were poorly worded and could potentially lead to a little confusion. However, I ended up clarifying everything so many times that the only good faith explanation I can think of for these wild misinterpretations is that people were seeing my arguments largely out of context. Now, though, I don't want to see any more straw men around here. You have no excuse, there's a convenient list of links to everything I said. As of posting this, I will ridicule anyone who ignores it and sends more hate mail. You have no one to blame but yourself for your poor reading comprehension.

What Prompted Me to Start Arguing in the First Place

There is one more thing that people kept misinterpreting, and it saddens me far more than anything else in this situation. It was sort of a culmination of both the things I already mentioned. Several people, notably including the one I was arguing with, have insisted that I'm trying to talk over physically disabled people.

Read the posts again. Notice how the original post was speaking for "everyone" in saying that AI isn't helpful. It doesn't take clairvoyance to realize that someone will find it helpful. That someone was being spoken over, before I ever said a word.

So I stepped in, and tried to oppose the OP on their universal claim. Lo and behold, they ended up saying that I'm the one talking over people.

Along the way, people started posting straight-up inspiration porn.

I hope you can understand where my uncharacteristic hostility came from in that argument.

#temporary pinned #ai #ai discourse

[theshadowrealmitself]

One thing Humans are notoriously bad at is sharing important information or the entire information

So I like to picture a Vulcan ship heading out to check on a Human space base because they requested assistance with some faulty wiring

Turns out the wiring is faulty because some killer giant space whale that shouldn’t even logically exist took a bite out of the base and is still somewhere out there

Did the humans mention this part at all?

No.

(Just picturing the Vulcans looking at the form that says “assistance with faulty wiring” then looking back at the base with a chunk gone from it)

#humans #Vulcans #Star Trek #self indulgent hours #Vulcans taking down the report about all the facts ‘just tell us everything’ #‘we named her Bessie!’ #‘….why?’ #humans: *shrugs* #Vulcans: :|

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Writing prompts! I'm sending them individually to make it easier to answer all or a few or none of them. They all turned out to be LU in Healthcare oops

When Hyrule is on a call and the patient is awake and alert enough to be scared, how does he help?

EMS calls had phases to them.

The first phase, of course, was getting dispatched, and responding to the scene. It was typical for emotions to run high immediately, for the adrenaline to spike, and everyone reacted differently. Hyrule usually ran scenarios through his head, easing his own anxiety by preparing himself based on the dispatch information. It wasn’t much, especially since dispatch could have faulty details, and he was more than happy to wing it… but it kept his mind preoccupied.

Mo’s usual response was to get aggravated. He would judge the dispatch information, would get irritated whenever a driver messed up and did something reckless. The man’s compassion was quiet and immense, but his stress came out in snappish quips directed at situations and nonexistent people.

The third phase began with their arrival. This was usually when they would figure out what they were actually dealing with.

A dispatch for chest pain meant Mo drove and Hyrule led. The secondary indicated a male in his 40s with severe chest pain and difficulty breathing. It couldn’t really get more cut and dry than that, Hyrule supposed. They had to drive to the central train station, which complicated matters. Hyrule had to agree as Mo grumbled about the situation - he hated crowded scenes.

As the pair walked inside with a stretcher loaded with supplies, they were directed to a secluded area, which surprised Hyrule. He was far more accustomed to people bunching up to stare, getting in his way and making his skin crawl. Instead, they were ferried into a small room, and Hyrule’s senses immediately went on alert at the sight of security guards.

He supposed one of the security members was the patient, then.

But no, because it was clear who the patient was, and his lack of security uniform was not the first thing Hyrule noticed. It was his grayish complexion, the sweat beading his forehead, the scrunched up expression of focus and agony fighting for control. It was the way the man was carefully rocking back and forth between leaning back and clutching his chest and leaning forward to open his airway because he couldn’t breathe. It was how silent he was, eyes piercing through the table in front of him as he fought with all his might with how he was feeling.

This man was sick.

Mo sensed it too, and immediately started to guide the stretcher in time with Hyrule as they reached the patient. Mo prepped the monitor to get the man’s vital signs and do an EKG to look at his heart while Hyrule assessed him and spoke to him.

“Hello, sir,” he greeted, eyes looking the man over. “What’s going on?”

“These gentlemen are being too dramatic,” the man wheezed, sharp eyes burning into the security guards. “I’m fine.”

The statement was so ludicrous even Mo stopped what he was doing to throw the patient a look.

“You sure don’t look fine,” Hyrule noted.

“That’s what we said,” one of the guards piped up. “His friend called us over because he nearly collapsed.”

Hyrule glanced around. “Where’s your friend?”

“I told him to get on the damn train,” the patient grumbled. “Which is where I should be.”

“Let’s make sure you’re okay first,” Hyrule advised him. “It won’t do you any good to board that train if you die before you reach your destination.”

Given the man’s attitude, Hyrule expected some kind of scoff or angry response, but instead, the man bit his lip, showing fear. A pang of sympathy went through the paramedic, and he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s just see what’s going on, okay?”

The man watched him a moment, saying nothing, eyes searching for something, and then he squeezed them shut, chin tilting down as he nodded.

“When did this start?”

The patient hesitated before answering. “It’s been going on for an hour or two. Just got much worse when were climbing the stairs.”

Alarm bells continued to ring in Hyrule’s mind as he listened. Time is heart tissue repeated over and over. He felt his own heart beat faster as the monitor collected information.

HR 118. BP 92/44 with a MAP of 60. RR 28, SpO2 89%, and the EKG…

ST elevation. Leads II and III, with reciprocal depression in V4. Shit.

This man was having a heart attack. He’d been having one, and he was going into shock.

“Sir, it looks like you’re having a heart attack,” Hyrule informed him as he and Mo moved into action, getting him oxygen through a nasal cannula that could also read capnogrpahy, moving bags off the stretcher so they could quickly get him on it. “Have you had one before? What kind of medical history do you have?”

The patient watched him a moment, growing paler, and then he squeezed his eyes closed yet again, trying to calm himself. “I smoke. Nothing else. Doc mentioned high blood pressure during the last exam, but he said cut the cigarettes and the stress. Didn’t need meds yet. I don’t take anything.”

“Any medical allergies?”

“No.”

“Have you taken anything for this pain?”

“Aspirin,” the man answered with a huff. “I started carrying it just in case.”

“Good thing,” Hyrule commented, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “We’re going to take good care of you, okay?”

Mo had the stretcher ready and in front of them, with the monitor behind the back of the cot. Hyrule shoulder the go bag and oxygen tank while assisting the patient to stand, pivot, and sit. The less strain on his struggling heart, the better.

Security helped clear a path for them as they moved quickly. Hyrule already had his phone in hand, telling the ER to call a STEMI alert. Once they were inside the ambulance, Mo helped Hyrule secure everything and then quickly went up front to drive them out of there. Hyrule grabbed defibrillator pads, placing them on the man’s chest.

“Are those necessary?” The man asked, far more out of fear and dread than anything else.

Hyrule tried to find a balance, tried to reassure the poor man as he moved. “They’re just a precaution. Right now I don’t see a big indication for them, but I like to be ready.”

As he moved on to start an IV, he worked on trying to distract the man. His oxygen saturation had improved with the oxygen, but his blood pressure was still low. Too low for nitroglycerin, which was contraindicated in an inferior MI anyway. Hyrule didn’t have many treatment options, and he hated that. He’d tentatively give fluids. The MAP was still survivable, but barely.

“You from Castle Town?” He asked with a small smile as he put the tourniquet on the man’s arm.

“No. Well. I was.” The man answered, watching him work before swearing under his breath and staring at the ceiling. “I’m supposed to be going home. This was my break from work.”

Hyrule struggled a bit to comment on that. He tried, “Well, once the hospital patches you up, you’ll be able to go home in better condition than you would’ve.”

“You mean alive,” the man remarked bitterly, huffing, “God certainly does like to fucking test me. But if he doesn’t kill me, my wife and daughter will.”

Hyrule was about to ask about them, but the patient picked up on his attempt and waved him off. “Please, just do what you need to do.”

Hyrule obliged him, thankful for the silence to focus. He got the 18G IV in the man’s forearm—for being a smoker he had very good veins and toned arms. He at least kept in shape in that regard.

As Hyrule ran out of things to do aside from observe, he grabbed his computer to collect information. He got the man’s name and date of birth, home address, basic medical information. He called the hospital and updated them.

Mo got them to the ED in record time. The pair quickly unloaded the stretcher and went inside, where charge told them to go to one of the major rooms. A group of three or four people was waiting for them, including Warriors and Legend and Twilight and an emergency physician, as well as a cardiologist. Hyrule gave his report quickly as they moved the patient and wished the man luck.

As he exited, he sighed, feeling the tension drain out of his body. They got him there alive. That was a victory. He hoped the hospital could help him.

“Hey Rulie!”

Hyrule turned and smiled as he saw Wild. “Hey! I thought you weren’t released to go back to work until next week?”

“Eh, I passed the last exam with flying colors,” Wild shrugged with a satisfied smirk. “I heal pretty well, you know.”

The crash flashed in his mind again. The blood. Wild’s broken body. Hyrule’s smile grew a little strained. “Please don’t strain yourself.”

“I won’t,” his friend replied sincerely. “I promise.”

Movement caught his eye, and Hyrule looked beyond to see Warriors and Twilight pushing the stretcher with his patient into the hall, likely heading for the cath lab. He was honestly surprised he himself hadn’t been directed to take the patient there directly.

Wild turned as well to look. “You brought him in?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule answered quietly as the man caught sight of him, pained, tired eyes scanning him before stopping at his companion.

The man jolted up, nearly ripping out an IV in the process. Hyrule jumped, startled, and watched Twilight fight the man to lie back down. He stepped forward, eager to help and soothe the man, who had mostly been reasonable for him. Wild stayed frozen in place.

“Abel, it’s okay,” Hyrule assured him. “They’re gonna help you.”

“L—Link—” the man said, arm reaching beyond Hyrule.

How did he know his…?

He wasn’t talking to Hyrule, was he?

Hyrule turned hesitantly, and saw that Wild was nearly paler than the patient. His eyes were glazed over in that familiar look, that look that the medic knew now to recognize.

Hyrule quickly went to his friend while Warriors and Twilight both held down the patient, who was hurried out of the ED while breathlessly saying all their names over and over and over, his voice growing steadily weaker.

#you ask skye answers #lovely bluevaractyl #lu in healthcare #lu hyrule #do I have a tag for Mo?? #lu mo #🤷🏻‍♀️👍🏻 #lu wild #abel #writing #guess who’s making a guest appearance?? :D :D :D #Skye time travels through the queue

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

thinking about death's necklace again... and how she replaces it in high cost of living... and something's just lodging in my brain about that, and about dream

like. for those who haven't read that particular side story, death's human form is kidnapped by people looking to steal the ankh from her, because it's her sigil, her symbol, it has her power in it

and it does! sort of. there's certainly a magic to it when she's wearing it. but when it gets stolen, she has no problem letting them keep it, because it's just metal. she can (and does) get a new one

and just putting on this cheap replica, gives it all the power the old one had

because the old one wasn't inherently magic either. death didn't lose anything when it was taken from her. symbols have power because belief has power. because the way that people see and understand the world, the connections that they draw, inform everything about how they act. the endless themselves are only really concepts given life, why would their magic be anything else?

and death's not the only one who wears or carries her symbols of power. delight had a necklace with a flower on it, before she became delirium, and despair wears her hooked ring everywhere - i'd imagine that jewellery also functions like death's. destruction's sword is probably at its base a normal sword, made into something powerful because it's destruction who wields it. desire carries their heart shaped cigarette lighter everywhere, but they've left that behind before, and gotten a new one (and i imagine their sigil has probably taken many different physical forms, particularly in the time before cigarette lighters)

destiny is physically chained to his book, so who knows whether or not the power is in him or the book - i suspect that question in and of itself has a faulty premise, because they're not two distinct entities. destiny is the book and the book is destiny

but dream. dream stands out for two reasons

firstly, his symbols weren't given to him at his creation, and they aren't interchangeable objects only imbued with power by being associated with him. all of dream's symbols are made

i'm curious to know what his sigil was, before he was imprisoned the very first time. if he had one. but the skull sigil references his helm, and his helm is manually crafted from the skull of a creature that tried to take over the dreaming, when the endless were all very young, and kept dream locked up in his own palace. when dream escaped, and defeated the creature, he took that symbol as a warning to anyone else who might try and usurp his throne like that

and then there's his own piece of symbolically significant jewellery - his ruby, and the other dreamstones. again, things he physically crafted, things he put actual pieces of himself into

which brings me to my second point - dream stands out because he is weaker without his symbols. the other endless don't care if they lose theirs, because it was never about the physical object, they'll get a new one. but the helm is explicitly, in both show and comic canon, something dream is physically stronger when wearing, it does contain a portion of his magic and he's not complete without it. and we've seen what happened without the ruby

and dream's sigils being actually imbued with his power means that people have a lot easier time stealing that power from him, than they would the power of any of his siblings

and i wonder why he gave himself such a glaring flaw, that no one else in his family has

i think again, one of two reasons

either that it has to do with his self destructive nature, and many people have written many great metas on that already re: why he put so much power in the ruby

or it has to do with the nature of what these things are, and what dream is

like i said, symbols have power because belief has power. we make random objects much more powerful than their base elements by giving them meaning, taking a shape, and adding a story to it. that's dream's domain. he is said many times in the comic to be a creature of metaphor and allusion and abstraction. of symbolism.

and i'm not sure if he can help it

his entire job is to take all those flimsy concepts that exist only in the outskirts of imagination and to give form to them, so that they can be useful. every dream and every nightmare that dream himself creates contains a piece of dream's power, that magic is constantly flowing in and out, being borrowed when a dream is created and then returning to him when the dream is no longer needed. every symbol and every story contains a piece of dream's power because that's all dream's power is

and that means his own symbols are a part of that equation

he is giving up pieces of himself constantly

the problem arose when humans learned how to keep them

#dream of the endless #sandman comic spoilers #death of the endless #mine #meta #the sandman

[whydoifeelthisquiet]

It’s July 4th and it’s still Disability Pride Month.

In honor of today being the fourth, I would like to share some information regarding the Americans With Disabilities Act. Today’s homework is to read (or at least skim) the links and facts I’m including. Disabled people in America are not granted the freedoms many are celebrating today.

Is the ADA enough? By Andie Mosley

The impact of the ADA: Research Results—Dr. John Frank (please skim this one!! it shows how unreliable the ADA is. This was published in the early 2000s & I would argue that the ADA’s reliability has decreased since then, based on my experience and the experiences of other Disabled people in my life. Disabled tumblr users, please reply to this post with your opinion on that, I’m curious!).

30 Years After a Landmark Disability Law, the Fight for Access and Equality Continues—Abigail Abrams

Chicago Cubs prevail in lawsuit alleging Wrigley renovations violated accessibility requirements for wheelchair-bound fans—Robert Channick (I know the title used ‘wheelchair-bound’ which is an inappropriate way to refer to wheelchair users, but this gives an explanation of how the Cubs technically followed ADA, but still made the seats inaccessible).

Many of these articles are great, but there is still an underlying sense of “well at least we have the ADA even if it’s not perfect” and while I partially agree, the ADA is faulty. Businesses and public spaces only have to meet the bare minimum requirements so they don’t get sued. In my experience, they often put their “accessible” features of the building in the most inaccessible places. For example, a building at my college has an automatic door and elevator, but you have to walk around the building (often through the grass) and then down a ramp to get to it. I couldn’t do that so I put myself in danger and pain trudging up the stairs every day. That isn’t accessibility. It had negative impacts on my academic performance and overall learning experience. In my opinion that should be a violation. If I were to sue, I’d probably lose the lawsuit because they “met” the legal requirements.

Today I stand with all marginalized communities that aren’t truly granted freedom in America. You are such a beautiful and valuable part of this country and I will continue to speak up for you until Justice is served. Your resilience is so admirable!! ♥️

I do all of this work for free because it is my passion. But, I’m also an unemployed, struggling Disabled girl. It’s not necessary, but I would greatly appreciate any support on my ko-fi. Thank you & happy pride !!! :’)

#abby doesnt shut up #disability #disability pride month #disabled #disability rights #tw ableism #ableism #social justice #America

[balkanradfem]

I was watching a video on purity culture and how it causes trauma to women who end up seeing sexual experiences as tainting and sinful later on; I didn't experience this so I don't have a lot to say on it, but I've thought about why it was implemented as a part of religious experience for women specifically.

Purity culture doesn't touch m*n, they are aware it's okay to get sex anywhere they possibly could and they feel victorious about it, like it's their natural thing to do. Women, however, don't get to give into their instincts and have to follow a set of strict rules, otherwise they're 'non-pure' and 'damaged goods' and whatnot.

I originally believed this was to enable m*n to be the first one to shape and control women's sexuality; if she had no experiences before and has no idea what she likes, she can't judge if he's doing well, she can't tell him what she likes, she has no criticism because she has no reference, he gets the freedom to teach her how sex should be done, and it's going to be the way he likes it; she's just there to fulfill his fantasy, and her experience barely matters. I believe this is also why a lot of m*n are attracted to children; children have no way of criticizing or being demanding or saying no, they're completely at mercy of whoever is violating them, they have zero agency, zero ability to consent to anything. Being in complete control, and even more, being a 'teacher' in those moments seems to be what m*n are aspiring for, because then the entire sexuality is under their authority. It ceases to be a mutual act and turns into one-sided power play.

Now after reading all about the biological imperative of males to impregnate women and to reject or even murder children who are not of their own blood, I'm starting to think that maybe it was the way to ensure that a woman who is entering a marriage is only possibly carrying his children. Because m*n have no way to tell, when a woman carries a child, if it's his or someone else's; so he implements strict rules and regulations that forbid the woman to ever touch anyone else sexually, so he could be sure it's all his blood. So by convincing women they could get 'tainted' or 'become sinners' by sexually interacting with anyone but a husband, they get to control her reproductive capabilities completely, use them only for themselves.

This interferes with women being the natural administrators of life and choosing who gets to continue their line. Since not all women have the chance to choose their husbands, and a lot of them are choosing based on information that is twisted and manipulated in favour of the m*n, they not only cannot exercise the right to pick and choose anytime they want, but someone else gets to do it entirely, the second they're married. Without patriarchy, women chould choose and drop a m*n at a moment's notice, the second he is no longer agreeable as a person to them, they would be able to ditch him forever, and pick someone else, or no-one at all. Patriarchy gives women only one single choice and then hardly any way to go back on it, and they are forced to make this choice on faulty information, without experience, references, and sometimes it's not even their choice at all, but the only thing that will allow them to survive. There's a reason why women are pushed to marry young, with as little experience as possible, and for m*n it doesn't matter.

Our nature is being hacked to the point where we're only living under an illusion of a choice, and under someone else's complete control over what is supposed to be our administrative right, but even that one choice is never something we can easily change our mind about, or quit when we realize it's damaging or dangerous for us. We should get to decide and control all of it. Partners, sexuality, choice of who gets to have their blood in a new generation. No restrictions should be there for women. Nature has given us none.

#purity culture #control of women's sexuality #radical feminism #radfem analysis #the oppression within marriage #women being denied their rights as nature's administrators of life #feminism #analysis

[randomshyperson]

Rulers of The Multiverse - Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Chapter Two

Summary: Strange’s faulty spell will cause a series of unexpected events, from your reunion with the love of your life in another world to the appearance of a child capable of traveling across the multiverse. This story follows the journey of a very tired Guardian alongside mischievous America Chavez and Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: (+18) explicit language and sexual content, violence, a lot of magic, found family, mentions of abusive past and trauma, mind control, use of illicit substances, mostly top!reader, soulmates analogies.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter Two - Far From Home

The very second you stepped into your reality, there were about two dozen rifles pointed at your face.

You can't even blame them, after all, this kind of security became necessary after your actions. All you did was raise your hands to head height, and face a disappointed Charles Xavier that was walking in your direction.

"Just when you're so close to reaching your freedom again, Miss L/N." He said while nodding for the guards to lower their weapons. You sighed.

"I can explain."

"And it better be a great justification, Y/N. The council is not at all happy about your absence." He retorts making you frown slightly.

"How long was I gone?"

"Long enough to end up in the cells you helped us develop."

"Damn it." You grumble annoyed. "It was only a few hours for me, and I swear it wasn't me who-"

Charles held up his hand to interrupt you, a small smile forming. "Save it for the council, child. Things have gotten weirder since you went AWOL. And that's not a good thing for you."

Great fucking timing.

Charles and the guards led the way to the base of the Illuminati - The organization responsible for managing Space-Time on your world, which emerged a few months after your universe mysteriously began to collapse (or not so much, because the instability was emerging from you, and your unrestrained rewriting of destinies to keep your dead wife and fake daughters by your side) and five years after emergence, is still functioning with a lot of work to do. - The walk was long and silent, Charles looked nervous and distant, he spoke no more than vague greetings, and you had the impression that he got inside your head a few times. You didn't even try to resist, figuring that if he saw the truth, it would be better for your judgment.

As you expected, the guards took you straight to one of the holding cells. Risk assessment, they called it. An iron collar to restrain your powers around your neck, an anklet to track your presence even in another universe, and handcuffs for precaution. 

You rolled your eyes at the last one. They always double-checked when it came to you.

"Long time no see, Miss L/N." Shuri greeted as soon as she entered the room, eyes on the electronic tablet and not yourself. 

"Did you miss me, doc?" You retorted with a certain irony, making her smile.

"Of course I did, you're always an entertainment." She retorted and you gave a short laugh, looking down at your own lap again. "Let's see, unauthorized interdimensional travel to the 616 universe..."

"Travel is a strong word. I was practically kidnapped." You informed and she hummed in understanding, not seeming to believe much. You sighed in frustration, realizing that you would have to save your story for the trial. 

"Your magic exchange levels are sky-high, Miss L/N. What have you been doing over there?"

You frowned slightly. You didn't even use magic while you were there. 

"I didn't do anything." You said seriously, but Shuri crossed her arms, an insistent look on her face. "I swear! I stayed in a hut, hiding. Just eating and..." Clearing your throat softly, you looked away. "I didn't use magic other than a concealment spell. Word of honor."

Shuri squinted her eyes at you, but sighed after a moment, turning her attention back to the computers that were analyzing you.

"Well, Miss L/N, something has stimulated your magic there. Look at this graph. Your cells are screaming, it's like fireworks. Maybe it is the portal you went through. Either way, it won't look good for your judgment. You're not allowed to use magic in case you forgot it."

With a huff, you look away. "I didn't do anything, you know. Some sorcerer took me there and now I'm here being accused unfairly."

"Unfairness is a strong word for your case, don't you think, Y/N?" Shuri comments and you feel your face heat up with shame. You glare throughout the remainder of the evaluation and refuse to try to justify yourself to her again.

When you are finally released to see the Council, you leave the cell scratching the collar around your neck.

There is a main council of the Illuminatti, but you are a Sorcerer, so your trial is attended by the Council of Mages of this universe. Therefore, you are not surprised that the chairs are mostly occupied by mages, witches, and magical beings and not by the members of the main council, such as Reed Richards or Black Bolt.

"How thoughtful of you to return to your universe, Miss L/N." Ironized Master Kaecillius as soon as you stopped in the center of the room, the council chairs spread out in a circle around you. You clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Well, you were starting to miss me so I had to come right back." Is your impolite response - ignoring Charles' warning look - and smiling at the way Kae clenches her fists.

"Insolent child!" He grumbles as he moves to take his seat. The professor nods to avoid further discussion, and all the members are silent as he begins to read the standard introduction for starting a session.

"[...] it has been established as a penalty after the crimes on Westview with the reality manipulation and destiny alteration that nearly extinguished this universe entirely, that in addition to immediate banishment from the Avengers team, Miss Y/N L/N Maximoff would be forbidden to use magic and would live according to sessions 6, 21 and 44 of the Interdimensional Accords, which describe the prohibition of travel between universes without prior authorization or emergency reason." Charles quoted all the requirements of his trial, an electronic chart with the sentences appearing next to him as soon as he concluded. "We have identified that on September 27, Miss left this universe at 7:30 a.m. and did not return for eighteen days. What do you have to say about this accusation, miss?”

"Unfounded, professor." You retort generating a reaction of incredulous exclamations from half the council. Charles straightens up in his chair.

"Do you deny the journey?"

"I deny the intent." You retort. "I was working, and more importantly, obeying our agreement. An interdimensional rift appeared in the middle of my office and I was teleported inside."

A few council members began to whisper among themselves, and before Charles could comment, Kaecillius stood up.

"The instability of Stephen Strange's spell has already been notified to this council. Your action that day should have been to retreat from the opening and come directly to us. There was an intention to leave this reality."

It was your turn to let out an indignant exclamation. "And what guarantees that the spell wasn't going to pull me back? You can't blame me for investigating something of this seriousness! On trial or not, I'm still a Sorceress!"

Kaecillius laughed wryly, some members shared his reaction. "That's really a joke. Do you want to convince us that you went for a walk in another reality because you were worried about the safety of the universe? After all, you've done?"

Your face burned with embarrassment, and you looked away. Charles cleared his throat.

"Master Kaecillius, please." He asked, and against pleasure, the other man sat down. Charles sighed, massaging his forehead with his fingers. "Y/N, Stephen Strange's fractured spell has been reported in about one hundred and twelve universes. Only a few variants were reported in reality 616 and the situation was brought under control."

"I know, I was the one who did the containment spell!" You exclaim surprising the council. With an annoyed sigh, you lower your voice. "As soon as I arrived, I saw the cracks. And despite what this council expects of me, I still try to keep things from getting worse. I used a containment spell to prevent more travelers from arriving in that universe."

The buzzing came back among the members. Charles flashed you some short proud smile since that was clearly going to count for some points in your favor, and you wanted to laugh at the way Master Kaecillius rolled his eyes in his seat.

"This council seems to be impressed by small actions, but should I remind you of the reasons why Miss L/N finds herself in this court today?" To your surprise, it was not Kaecillius, but Mordo, who was usually quite neutral in situations. You swallowed dryly as you saw him stand. "It's not the first time the rules have been of little importance to her."

You bit your tongue at seeing so many members agreeing. Kaecillius looked very pleased with himself.

"Deliberately entered a reality and used a high-risk spell, disobeying her parole. You did not return to your home universe even upon finishing the spell, staying away from our monitoring by choice." He accused and you looked down at your own feet. "I believe it is valid to question what you have been doing during this time that this Council has had no information of your location."

You swallowed dryly, without answering. Your silence increased the tension in the room. 

"Y/N, please." Charles asked and you felt your eyes fill with tears. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the emotion away and answered:

"I searched for Wanda."

The council exploded in incredulous, disappointed exclamations. Charles himself sighed, straightening back into his chair. Mordo crossed his hands in front of his body, and Kaecillius laughed from his own chair.

"I'm telling you! She didn't regret anything!" Accused the sorcerer getting up. "You're trying to break another universe for your dead wife!"

The handcuffs and necklace made a loud noise as they exploded on your wrists, eyes, and hands glowing gold. Half of the council members stood, but Charles' expression made you sigh and control your magic.

The iron guards approached you again, guns armed in your direction. 

"You never change, do you, Y/N?" Kaecillius taunted one last time, and you shuddered, feeling the tears return. Charles cleared his throat.

"Let's postpone this session. The council needs to review this new information. In the meantime, Miss L/N remains in contention." 

Knowing that Charles was actually trying to make things easier, you didn't complain. You followed the guards back to your cell and stayed there without protest.

Almost three hours later and you still had no answer, and you were growing impatient by the second. Your first meal had been brought to you by Mordo, and that didn't improve your mood one bit.

"It was good to know you weren't dead, Y/N." He commented as soon as you slipped the tray of food through the opening of the cell. You offered him a humorless laugh.

"As if." You retorted. "Half the problems of this council would be solved if I didn't exist."

Mordo chuckled, shaking his head as he watched you unlock the cuffs and start eating. The guards outside exchanged hesitant glances, and he nodded that it was okay.

"You know I never agreed with your forging." He commented next, and you grumbled low, more interested in the food. 

"Really, Mordo? No, I didn't know. I guess you should have said it for the hundredth time because ninety-nine times was too little to stick in my brain." You mocked earning a chuckle from the other, who was enchanting a chair to sit in front of the cell.

"Do you know why?" he questioned, and you grimaced, shrugging. 

"My age?" You tried before taking a bite of the fries. Mordo sighed thoughtfully.

"That was also a factor, I think." He said. "Young people are usually very reckless, I wouldn't have recommended someone who didn't have at least five decades of a magical experience for a responsibility like the one you've been given."

You hum kind of disinterested. Mordo clears his throat.

"When the forging date approached, your name was part of one of the suggestions, Miss L/N." He declares surprising you.

"Really? What did they say about me, best barrier spells?" You joke managing a smile.

"High cognition indices and most importantly, caring inclination." He retorted. You raised an eyebrow. "Master Agamotto suggested you. He said that you were talented, and more importantly, that you had your heart in the right place. And that there was nothing more important than that for a Guardian."

You swallowed dryly, pushing the pain of thinking about your former mentor away. "And you disagreed with him?"

Mordo gave you a sad smile, looking away.

"I witnessed your training at the Kamar Taj, Miss L/N. I disagreed with Agamotto's vision towards this. You were irresponsible and disobedient. I lost count of how many times I saw you run away from training or using the quickest solutions that bordered on what we considered correct in your spells." He comments. "And I was also around when you joined the Avengers and began a relationship with Miss Maximoff. You changed, Y/N. She was your priority, not your oath to protect natural law. The intense love you felt for her became your most negative trait."

You grimaced, shifting your gaze to your own lap. "How can love be a bad thing, Mordo?"

"When it becomes selfish." He says. "And you, Y/N, have become the most selfish person I have ever met. Everything was about Wanda. Do you remember that you didn't even want to join the fight against the mad titan? She was the one who insisted that you couldn't turn your back on your friends. You wanted to run away."

You pushed your tray away gently, wiggling one of your knees. "I just didn't want her to get hurt, Mordo. It's not a crime to want the safety of the one you love."

"Of course not." He agrees with a nod. "It's just a trait a Guardian shouldn't have."

"Well, I wouldn't want to be a Guardian either!" You retort and he sighs, nodding.

"I know, Y/N. But we can't change what's already been done." He says. "Agamotto let his affection for you influence his decision. There were other ways to heal you, but a master concerned for the safety of his closest apprentice acted in desperation. Your forging was precipitated and accidental, but it cannot be undone. You will be the Guardian of the Order as long as you live, and that needs to be important to you."

You sigh. "I'm not even allowed to use magic, Mordo."

He clears his throat, looking hesitant. "For the moment, no. But your judgment may be in your favor if a new oath is taken." You frown in confusion, but Mordo swallows dryly and seems to decide to be sincere. "When we explained to you about your magic, and about your position, you remember what you were taught about chaos magic, right?"

You sigh impatiently. "Unfortunately, yes."

Mordo smiles short. "Y/N, I know it's a sensitive subject, talking about her, but, all the masters expected Wanda to become the Scarlet Witch." He counters, and you mutter in understanding, vaguely remembering the day you woke up with your powers. "From the way, you two were close, with your marriage... it made sense that eventually, her forging would happen."

"But she died before that." You complete with bitterness in your stomach. "Yeah, Mordo, I remember."

He offers you a sad sigh. "A guardian of the Order needs a scarlet witch, Y/N. It's the natural order of things. If one exists without the other, things get out of balance." Mordo continues to make you frown. "Do you think this council treats you like this for no reason? Your mere existence without a counterpart messes up this world. Every time you use magic, you open a rift in the cosmos. You need your witch."

You bite your tongue when your immediate reaction is to say that you met her on earth 616. You don't trust Mordo one bit. Clearing your throat, you ask, "Why are you telling me these things?"

"The masters are deciding about you." He says. "A guardian should not exist without their witch, it is unnatural. And you keep disobeying. They could decide the worst if you don't swear to balance things out."

You widen your eyes, getting up defensively. "You came all this way just to say they're going to kill me!"

Mordo holds up his hands for you to calm down. "Y/N, please." he asks between teeth, signaling for you to keep your tone of voice like his. "We have different morals than the rest of the members, you know that. There are sentences where the Masters disagree with the heroes. This is one of those. To the physical world, the execution of a warrior may seem the best alternative, but to us, it would be a disgraceful offense. You have made mistakes, but you are in all terms, the guardian of the multiverse. It would be an immeasurable crime if any of the masters were to assist in your execution. Even Kaecillius knows this."

"Oh, please, he would love to hold the axe!" You accuse, walking around nervously. "I can't believe I came all the way back here for all of you to decide to kill me."

"Take the oath, Y/N." He suggests seriously, making you look at him again. "Repeat your vows to the cosmos."

You let out a short laugh. "Do you think I'm an idiot, Mordo? The first law is the complete surrender of my spirit to Oshtur. And the gods are all fucking bastards."

"Blasphemy." He grumbled in horror, but you shook your head in disbelief.

"This isn't even the rule that worries me the most!" You continued. "The third commandment, remember? The guardian will do anything to protect the multiverse, and that includes facing the high priestess of chaos. Imagine this, Mordo. A vast multiverse with versions of my wife who felt over Chthon's dominion, and a damned oath forcing me to kill one by one, and preventing me from facing the damned chaos god in the midterm." You remind him by approaching the railing. "You're right about me being selfish, Mordo. Because I'd rather face the wrath of the gods than stand against any version of my woman, and screw this whole multiverse in the process."

Mordo took a step back, incredulous and disappointed, but you didn't hesitate. "When your sentence comes, remember that I offered you a second chance."

"Fuck you and your sordid second chance, master."

He shakes his head one last time and turns away from you. You kick your lunch tray against the cell wall.

–//–

She will never come back to you, she doesn't belong here.

She shouldn't even remember you, a broken version of the woman she lost.

Poor Wanda, all alone.

The voices were louder at night because Wanda was sleeping and there was a vulnerability. Still, she could push them away with a little concentration.

In the early days, it was easier. She could still remember the warmth of your skin, the feel of your lips on hers, or the sound of your laughter. Most importantly, she could remember the sound of your voice, telling her that you would come back for her.

But as she went back to her studies, the memories she had of you began to poison her mind. Your whispers were replaced by harsh voices, quoting truths to break her fantasies, until the little calendar she used to count the days was completely forgotten on the wall.

Spy if you don't believe us. She's not coming back. Ever.

Wanda gasped softly this time. She was growing powerful every day, in an almost unrelenting way. It would be frightening if the voices didn't say that this is exactly how it has to be, this is what she was made for.

Your children need you, and you get attached to someone who doesn't even remember you exist. Come on, Wanda, take a peek.

When did it get so hard to push the voices away?

She controlled her breathing again while she was floating on air. She heard a giggle in her head.

Fine. I'll do it myself. Open your eyes.

Wanda blinked and was no longer in her hut studying, but in a living room. She looked around in confusion, but her body froze when she saw you.

You were wearing casual clothes, and you had a bucket of popcorn in your hands. You smiled, and Wanda felt her chest heat up, her eyes filled with tears. 

"Y/N..." She started but fell silent when someone walked by her side. 

"Wow, careful with the popcorn, honey, we don't want to make a mess." You warned when the little girl who grabbed your ankle. Without difficulty, you held the bucket with one hand and took the child on your lap. "Now, where has your sister gone?"

With that, a little girl came running from the stairs, wearing a Captain America hat.

"Mommy I went to get my helmet!" She explained coming down all the steps until she joined you, and the other little girl. Wanda shuddered as you approached, but you walked straight past her to sit on the couch.

"Come on the parade has already started." You said sitting them down on the couch, each on your own side.

"Is mommy going to be there too?" The smallest little girl asked, and you slipped an arm over her shoulder.

"Yes, honey, all the avengers fallen in battle appear at the memorial." You explained. "And then comes the tributes and then the games. When you were older, I'll take you to participate."

"How much older?" The other girl asked and you laughed lightly.

"Humm... when you're about this heigh." You said raising your arm high and making them laugh.

I told you. 

You warned the voice in Wanda's head again, and she felt her face wet.

She looked for her family. You should look for yours.

–//–

You fell asleep after twelve hours.

By this point, you knew that your execution was all but confirmed, especially since dinner was particularly tasty. Shuri showed up too, for a so-called standard check-up - which you were sure was just a monitoring grading on your pre-execution skills, so that the council would know exactly how to handle your magic and be able to effectively complete your sentence - and then you were left alone again.

As the hours turned into days, you began to despair. The promise of death didn't exactly put anyone at ease after all.

"They're trying to break you." You nearly fell out of bed in fright when Jean Grey's voice sounded outside the cell. Getting up quickly, you approached the edge to speak to her.

"I can't believe they called you. Low blow." You remarked, but Jean only giggled, approaching the lock and not caring about the robotic guards clearly unhappy with her actions, she unlocked it and entered the cell. You hugged her immediately, and she reciprocated, tightening her arms around your waist for a moment. 

"Natasha sends her regards too, Y/N." She commented as soon as she let go of you. "The council didn't authorize her visit."

"I figured they would only let someone who could contain me." You retort and she sighs in agreement. "How are things?"

"Complicated as usual." Jean returns with a chuckle that makes you smile. "You know how it is. We're never completely at peace."

You sigh, nodding. "I'd like to help."

"You have bigger problems." She says nudging your shoulder so you can sit next to her on her bed. "What I said before, you know it's true, don't you? Charles is stalling the council, delaying a decision as long as possible. He's asked the heroes to testify on your behalf. Mordo thinks the time here will make you accept the oath."

You laugh incredulously, running a hand over your face. "That's the sickest thing they've ever done, I swear to god. I would never accept it, Jean. Never."

"I know."

"How can they...wait what?"

Jean smiles. "Y/N, Wanda had been my roommate for years at the institute. We had our differences, but we managed to be friends in the end. I was at your wedding, I saw in your eyes as you said your vows that you meant it. She was your universe. You would never accept to hurt her, any version of her." Jean recalls, moving her hand to yours. "When we lost her, and you did what you did, those who were close to you were the only ones who really understood. It was a very unfair and abrupt loss. It would have left anyone traumatized."

"There is no justification for what I did, Jean."

"But there is, Y/N." She insists sadly. "I think me, as your friend, and the Avengers too failed to show that you were not alone. Everyone was really shaken up, but Wanda was everything to you. And when you lost her, nobody was there to tell you that there was still hope. Anyone with your power would have lost control."

You sniffled softly, looking away. "I'm not looking for forgiveness for that, Jean. It's over, there's no fixing it. Everything I could do to lessen my mistakes, from building this place to giving up my magic, I've done it. I guess all that's left now is for me to accept my sentence."

Jean denies it with her head. "Wanda died for you, Y/N. And she didn't do it for you to throw it all away."

You give a tearful laugh, running your hands through your hair. "I'm so tired." You confess with emotion. "It feels like there's this wave going over me. I can never get up, it keeps me just over the edge. Always in agony as if I'm going to drown at any moment, and I think...I think I just need to dive in once."

"Wanda wouldn't want this…”

"Wanda's not here!" You cut in an angry exclamation, getting up. Jean sighs, and you stand back to wipe away your tears. You take a deep breath, and after a moment, you say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." She says with a sad smile. "Do you know they made a statue of her? On the battlefield, next to Tony's."

You sniffle, looking back at her. "It sounds honorable, and over the top. She would have loved it."

Jean gives a short laugh. "Yeah, she would have." She agrees, making you smile. There is a moment of silence between you, before Jean sighs and says, "You can't die, Y/N. It's not right."

You swallow dryly, looking away to the floor. "Jean, I've done so many wrong things." You say. "Ever since I got this power, I've only used it irresponsibly and selfishly. All that pain I caused, the risk everyone was at. All of you would be dead if Wanda didn't stop me, and sacrificed herself. Again. I just... it's disrespectful to her not to think of the greater good."

Jean stood up, placing her hands on your shoulders. "Ever since you became guardian, you've been tiptoeing, apologizing for existing. It's not a fair life, Y/N. Wanda knew this, I know this, and so do you. Yet she sacrificed everything for you to be here today, and you want to throw it all away because some old people are saying you need to ask permission to be here?" she comments with a certain irony. "You're the fucking guardian of the multiverse. They're the ones who should be judged by you."

You give her a small smile, shaking your head. "Am I talking to Jean or the Phoenix?"

She laughs short. "We are the same, and thanks to you, I know my place. You always told me not to fear my power, didn't you? Not to let Charles, or anyone, take advantage of it. I listened to you, and now I think you should do the same."

"I don't want to lose control again, Jean." You confess sadly. "It wouldn't be fair to anyone."

"Then look for the one person who kept you in control of your powers." She suggests squeezing your shoulders a little. "You have to find your scarlet witch."

"But she doesn't belong in this universe..."

"And neither do you. Nor to this one, nor to any." Jean argues with a small smile. "The guardian and the ruler of the Multiverse, Y/N. You don't belong anywhere but to each other."

You give Jean a tearful smile, hugging her tightly afterward. "So cheesy." You murmur against her red hair, making her laugh.

"I'll miss you, troublemaker." She says as she squeezes.

"I'll miss you too, Jean." You say before letting go. "What are you going to tell the others?"

"That you went home." She replies making you smile.

As soon as you left Jean, and the alarm that your cell was empty sounded around the entire facility, you started running.

Traveling in the Multiverse was top magic, forbidden in the tiniest instances of basically every place you knew. So the only name that popped into your mind of someone who didn't give a damn about Illuminati laws was Agatha Harkness.

The last you knew of her was a few years ago, seen in a fight with a Scottish demon before Illuminati personnel came after her and she disappeared. It was your best lead, so you used your magic to hide and go investigate.

You were somewhere in the north of the UK, trying to get a hot dog without paying and alerting the vendor when something tore reality in front of you. The next second, a girl fell out of the hole and on top of you, and the confusion was such that the vendor was screaming and calling the police and you grumbled loudly.

"This is getting tiring." You ironized over the crack closing up. The girl looked around startled, seeing the movement, and prepared to run. You grabbed her by the arm. "Not so fast." You said, but seeing that the police guards had an electronic bulletin board with your picture on it, you swallowed dryly. "Actually, run." You told her nodding your head to the next alley and the girl wasted no time in following your cue, both of you turning at high speed.

You lost the guards many minutes later, between one alley and another when you used illusionary magic to make them see your figures running to the opposite side.

Gasping for breath, you one your hands on your stomach and looked at the child in front of you.

"Good job." You complimented getting a breathless chuckle. "Now if you don't mind, who are you?"

"You're a witch." She ignores your question, in an impressive and weary statement. 

"No, I'm a sorceress." 

"What's the difference?"

"Witches are much cooler." You comment with a chuckle. You tilt your head to look beyond the alley and check if you have really lost sight of the guards. "Let's get out of here, they can track my magic signature."

"Wow, really? How?"

"I taught them." You mutter, turning around and patting her shoulder to guide the direction. "I'm Y/N, by the way. If you don't have a name, we can make one up for you. Quick feet or cool jacket sounds good."

The girl chuckled, shaking her head. "My name is America Chavez."

You hum, looking out at the busy street. "Well, Chavez you just tore reality apart in a place that hates that short of magic and has serious problems with extreme security. But luckily you fell on the person who created half the surveillance items." You snicker a little, causing her to look at you curiously. "Let's go around town on the sidewalk, stay close okay?"

You guided the girl for about fifteen minutes, figuring that the biggest problem you could get into was angry guards.

Nothing prepared you for an interdimensional monster emerging from the culvert.

"What the fuck?" you exclaimed as the creature exploded halfway down the sidewalk a few feet away, causing an immediate commotion. The city alarm immediately rang and people started running and pushing.

"Okay, quick story, I've been running from monsters like this for at least two weeks, or days, time is relative. Do you think you can help me?" America speaks quickly next to you, and you widen your eyes as the creature starts grabbing at nearby vehicles, seeming to be furious that it is being surrounded by the nearest policeman.

You didn't quite believe it, until the monster scanned the place and set its eyes on America, letting out a frightening howl as it did so.

"Okay, I guess that's goodbye to staying stealthy." You sneer and only have time to push America away from the car that is thrown in your direction.

One of the guards recognizes you in the middle of the commotion, and whistles. "It's Y/N L/N! She brought the monster here!"

You let out an incredulous grumble. "Unbelievable." You say pulling America by the hand so you two can run away.

The monster gets angrier at the departure, and you listen to the mess escalate. But you don't stop running until you and America have found a dead end.

"Okay, focus." You say to yourself, raising your hands in the air. "Come on, you can do this Y/N. A portal to save your life."

"What are you doing?" America questioned impatiently, looking back and listening to the creature approach.

"I'm trying to make a teleportation portal, but I'm terrible at those so give me a minute."

"It's not me you need to ask for a time-out!" She shouts pointing back. An exclamation of desperation escapes her mouth as she sees the creature at the entrance to the alley, looking furious and with blood on its tentacles that is sure to be from the guards who are nowhere to be found.

"Shit, shit, shit." You grumble, fingers glowing with golden magic but too unstable to form anything. 

A tentacle moves forward and destroys the wall beside you. Your immediate reaction is to cast a spell to protect America from the rubble, but you barely have time to conjure the protection - a blue portal appears behind her and the girl grabs your wrist, pulling you in with her.

You stumble inside, and the portal closes. America has her hands on her knees, breathing heavily.

"You curse a lot around children, and you're a very bad sorceress." She accuses but you are looking in shock at your surroundings.

"Where...?" You start breathlessly, incredulous at what you are seeing. It's definitely not the UK, you have doubts it's Earth.

"I think that's why they are looking for me." America continues as she sees your expression. "I can travel through the multiverse."

You look at her incredulously and then burst into laughter. America crosses her arms. 

"Not a fucking chance." You retort wiping away tears of laughter. 

"I'm serious."

"Bullshit."

She sighs angrily, making a pout. You roll your eyes. "America, there is not the slightest possibility that you could travel through the multiverse. The amount of energy that would require or magical knowledge and- OH MY GOD IS THAT A TIGER?" You cut yourself off half a sentence with an impressed shout when your gaze meets a bus at the end of the street. The most fascinating thing is the tiger in a suit coming down.

It is obvious that is the end of rush hour, in a few seconds the public transport is emptying out, and not humans, but various animals dressed as real people get off.

America gives an impressed giggle. "Wow, I've never been in a place like this."

"How the hell did you get us into Zootopia?" You question shrinking behind the teenage girl who didn't seem the least bit scared. America chuckled again.

"Like I said, I can travel through the multiverse." She repeated and you would have said again that it was absurd, if literally a fucking zebra hadn't stopped the walk and looked you both up and down.

"Excuse me for asking, but what kind of animal are you?" Zebra asked, and you let out a startled scream, startling them. America gestured in apology, but the animal rushed off.

"My god, I've gone crazy. That's it, that monster must have hit my head, and I finally lost my mind and-"

"Y/N!" America shook you, snapping her fingers in front of your face. "Just breathe, okay? The first trip is always hard."

"It's not my first trip." You retort still in shock, looking around at the animals passing you, all clearly quite curious about the two humans on the sidewalk. "Maybe that's it, I lost my sanity leaving Earth 616 and this is all a mad fantasy. I just need to meditate and get out of it, calm and focus." You began to grumble, putting your hands under your eyes and repeating that you were dreaming.

America let out an impatient grunt, but before she could say anything, she noticed a few yards behind you a group of sheep whispering to a lion guard - who didn't look happy - and pointing in the direction.

"Okay, if you don't want to revive Lion King now, you better start walking." She warns poking you in the ribs and you let out a confused grumble, but as soon as you look back and see two lions dressed as policemen you stumble.

"Okay, this is insanity." You say grabbing America's hand. "Do your trick, please."

"Now do you believe me?" 

"I'll believe anything if you get me out of a Disney movie."

America laughs, shaking her head, and you feel the portal open behind you. This time as you walk through, you recognize that you are somewhere in London because of the red buses.

The gratitude turns into a grumble as you feel a wave of nausea and bend your body to put your hands on your knees.

"Hey, take a deep breath. Travel is always hard." Comments the girl patting you on the back. "You just have to remember to keep your mouth closed and breathe through your nose."

You hum in understanding, but it takes a good few minutes to settle your stomach. Chavez has led you into an alley, and you lean on the wall as you wait.

"Thanks for saving us from the lions." You comment half-heartedly. She smiles.

"Thanks for saving me from the guards on your world."

"Well, you did save us from the ugly beast so I guess by the score, I owe you one." You retort good-naturedly, looking around. "Well, America Chavez, I'm starving. Can I buy you a hamburger and you tell me exactly about this interdimensional teleportation thing you have?"

"If you promise not to freak out again."

"I'll only make promises after I'm sure the waiter doesn't have tails." You retort making her laugh.

–//–

Fortunately, Chavez has taken you to a definitely human universe. And with delicious hamburgers that you can buy with magic  drachmas, which was perhaps not such a good sign.

She had just briefly explained about her powers and was chewing after one huge bite while you absorbed it all.

"America, this is insane." You stated then, looking at her seriously. "Are you feeling all right? I was serious about the amount of energy for something like this. Dimensional travel is an impressive thing to pull off, in theory, it should blow your body to pieces. And you're here, telling me you did it for the first time when you were a little kid."

"Look, I don't know how I can do it, I just know I can." She retorted, half-heartedly at the concern you showed in your voice. "It started when I was little and so far, the only problem is that I haven't been able to get back."

"What do you mean?"

"I can only go forward. In the universes I go, you know? I can't go back to the one I came from, and that really sucks, because all I want is to go home." She declares upset, turning her gaze back to her food. You swallow dryly.

"I understand the feeling." You murmur offering a small smile as she looks at you. 

"I'm sorry for taking you out of your universe." She says and you make a confused face, then laugh, realizing that she understood that you were talking about your earth.

"Oh, don't worry about that old place." You assure her with a smile. "Home is hardly a place, America. It's about people. And well, before you found me, I was going after a witch of questionable morals to ask if she knew of any way for me to teleport to another universe. It was almost as if fate had brought you to me."

"Actually it was a seven-headed monster." She joked, making you laugh too.

"Well, in any case, you're here. " You say. "And well, if you want to help me, we can make a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Well, despite your first impression, I'm not a bad sorceress. I'm pretty good actually. It's just the teleportation spells that are difficult because I have trouble imagining and focusing in the places I have to go." You explain. "But I can help you train your powers and you help me get to Earth 616."

"I have no idea what that earth looks like, Y/N." She says half unsure, but you give her an assuring smile.

"Hey, don't worry, we'll do it in your own time, okay?" You assure her. "You're doing me a huge favor, and I'm happy to help you with the teleportation. Let's try one universe at a time, and who knows, maybe one day we'll get where we want to go."

"What about the monsters?"

You let out a soft exclamation. "Well, excuse me, but I happen to be an excellent warrior."

"I've only seen you run around and freak out over a zebra so far." She recalls getting an exclamation of false offense from you.

"That's it, no more French fries for you." You grumble extending your hand as she laughs.

–//–

The voices in Wanda's head were growing as impatient as she was.

In fact, the witch was practically reaching despair.

The nightmares started 42 days after you left her universe. It was suffocating and frightening.

It got worse and worse by the second, and somehow, at first, she thought that studying all day muffled the whispers in her head, but eventually, she realized that the only voice getting quieter was her own.

After the 157th day, she could only hear the screams of her own children.

It took you 324 days to reach Earth 616. Wanda felt you the very second you stepped into that universe, but she didn't know you were there just for that. She saw you coming through the eyes of the monster you killed.

"Wow, five points for me!" You celebrated as the creature's head fell at your feet, green blood staining all your clothes. America laughed, jumping over the beast to return the High-Five. 

"That wasn't very fair, you saw it coming." She commented as she cleaned the dagger you had gifted her, many weeks before.

"Oh please, it's not my fault that you were distracted by the sweet donuts we found. Almost a hundred and fifty universes and you're still impressed with chocolate." You teased receiving a gentle nudge from the girl. Her gaze went to the city you were now in, and you let out a soft exclamation. "Wait, this is New York City."

"You are from a variant of this one aren’t you?" America commented receiving a mumble in agreement. You were already concentrating on trying to sense Wanda, but let out a sigh at the lack of response.

"Sorry Chavez, still not this one." You mutter annoyed, forcing a smile at seeing the other girl's disappointment. "Hey, don't be discouraged. We'll find it, and you did a great job, little demon slayer. Let's find somewhere to clean up and eat before we go."

"Alright." She mumbled following you.

You got a room at a corner motel - This universe looked just like yours, and though the money had run out about a dozen worlds ago, nothing a few magic tricks couldn't fix - and after getting a bed, this because you never left America alone for fear she'd be attacked and you wouldn't be around, you gave her a playful shove towards the bathroom, saying that monster blood stank. She laughed, grimacing and saying that you were as bad as she was but obeyed.

After America left the bathroom with clean clothes that you got for her, you headed toward the commode.

"Scream if any monsters appear under the bed." You taunted getting a roll of the eyes, although you both knew that in the last few days, the frequency of enemies had increased greatly. 

You quickly washed, making sure that no green slime remained on your skin before you left the shower stall. You had a towel around your body and were standing in front of the sink intending to check your face for bruises when you felt all the hairs on the back of your neck shiver at once.

You could feel Wanda. Very weak indeed, almost nonexistent, but she was there. And then it just faded away. You blinked in confusion at your own reflection and tried to concentrate, to feel her again. But nothing.

You dressed in record time and stumbled out of the room with a thoughtful frown.

"What do you think about us ordering pizza?" America asked upside down, lying on the mattress. But seeing your expression, she looked at you with concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I felt her." You said and she gave a short laugh.

"Okay?" 

"I'm serious, kiddo."

America propped herself up on the bed, with an expression kind of unsure about everything. "Well, Y/N, it's not the first time, right? You felt her in that land of the mad scientists, and the Viking one. But you only found the variants that I still don't understand why you didn't want to date, and we ended up facing some pretty badass monsters over there."

You scratched behind your neck, a thoughtful expression as you moved to sit on the couch. "I know, Chavez. It's just...it was different now. What if we're in the right place and I miss my chance?"

"Let's investigate then."  

"But what if I'm only leading us to a worse monster than before?" You reason with certain guilt. "I don't want to put you in unnecessary danger."

America smiles, half surprised. "Y/N, don't worry about it. You are literally the only person who has tried to help me in the last few months running away from these creatures. You know I tried this Doctor Strange guy and he kind of betrayed me and it was a pretty mess thing-"

"Oh my god, that's it!" You interrupt her by getting up and making an apologetic expression immediately. "Forgive me, I know the story and you can tell it again on the way. If there is one place I can drop you off safely it is at the Kamar Taj. A bunch of sorcerers to help us."

America frowns slightly. "You're going to leave me there?"

You give a confused laugh, "What? No, of course not! Well, not forever at least. I wouldn't want to take you straight to another huge monster, but I don't want to leave you alone in an unknown universe with no one who can protect you while I investigate whether the Wanda here is my Wanda."

"But how can you be sure they will help us?" America asks and you smile, moving to arrange the sofa bed for you. 

"I keep telling you that I am an important sorceress, and you still don't believe me, do you?"

"I see you get caramel syrup all over yourself every time we have waffles for breakfast, miss important sorceress." She retorts with an unimpressed face and you laugh, moving to throw a pillow at her.

--//--

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #Rulers of The Multiverse #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines

[abbatoirablaze]

Surrogate Luna, Chapter 8

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: manipulation, coercion, threats of murder, mentions of murder, violence, discrimination based on designation, angst, a/b/o dynamics.

“Alpha…”

Steve looked away from his mate and towards Sam.  He looked a mess, and had scratches up and down his arms.  Steve’s eyes widened as he sensed the concern coming off of his beta in droves, “Sam…what is it?”

“Sharon…she-she’s lost it.  She-“

“What happened to Sharon?” Steve asked, “Lost it?  Did she lose her pup?”

Cinna felt nervousness creeping into her hindbrain over her alpha’s concern for the woman that he was formally promising himself to.  She reached out to him, “Steve…”

“Her pup was fine,” Sam said quickly as he shook his head, “she drank the same thing that Cinna did, and both of them were rushed to medical in time…but she-she killed Brock.”

Steve’s eyes widened, “What?”

“Alpha…you have to come…she-she’s going crazy,” Sam begged, “I-I don’t want to tear you from your family, but-“

“Pack comes first,” Cinna said simply.  She squeezed Steve’s arm soothingly and nodded her head, “go…take care of whatever is going on…but come back to me.”

“Always!” he promised with a simple nod.  He leaned in and scented his mate, before kissing her temple and his son’s forehead, then he and his beta left the hospital room. 

“Sharon…you need to be logical…”

“WHERE IS IT?” she hissed, shooting Steve a glare through the reinforced window of her hospital room, “WHERE IS THAT WORTHLESS PUP?”

Steve frowned as he thought about the pup that had been brought to him nearly two days ago by one of Sharon’s pack. 

He was clearly born prematurely, but he was definitely also an omega. 

The final nail in the coffin for Sharon, at least in her view, of solidifying a legacy. 

She had managed to do so in creating a pup with Brock, but the pup was an omega male.  Something that she, herself, was beyond disgusted by. 

And in a rage, even though she’d had a belly full of stitches, she tore Brock to shreds over it.  She killed him over impregnating her with an ‘inferior pup.’ 

When members of her pack had informed her that Steve and Cinna had a strong, healthy alpha boy, she went off the deep end.

“Your pup is safe, Sharon.”

“Kill it!” she commanded, growling at the man she had once been in a formal relationship with, “I don’t want an omega male with my name.  Carters are not omegas.  They are alphas or they don’t exist.”

Steve frowned even more.

He’d been all too privy with how the Carter pack family had dealt with omega males.  She was supposed to have had an older brother, but when he was born an omega male, they slaughtered the infant and threw him over the cliff. 

An omega male Carter was unacceptable. 

“Sharon-“

“KILL IT!” she screamed, nearly feral from having to continue on with the conversation, “I know that someone in my pack betrayed me and they brought it to you.  YOU NEED TO KILL IT, STEVE!”

“I’m not a savage,” Steve growled at the woman, “I’m not going to go and slaughter some innocent pup based on his designation.”

“WHAT IF YOU HAD AN OMEGA, HUH?” she screamed, her fists pounding on the glass, “WHAT IF YOUR BASTARD OF A PUP WAS BORN AN OMEGA!”

“I WOULD LOVE MY SON REGARDLESS OF DESGINATION!” Steve growled as he closed in on the area she’d been standing in front of, “to kill a pup…over his designation.  He had no control in that, Sharon.  And you know it!”

“Brock is dead because of it,” she spat, “that ratty little vermin put a faulty pup in me!”

“Being an omega is not a defect!”

“OMEGAS ARE WEAK, STEVE!”

“Omegas fulfill us alphas in ways that another designation cannot!” Steve said firmly, thinking of Cinna and how she was in their shared quarters, caring for the two infants, “right now, she’s got my son, and yours safely tucked away.  She’s taking care of them both as though she birthed them both.  Despite how you’ve treated her, she’s got no ill-will for your child.  Omegas are what drives our packs even more than us, Sharon!”

“She-she’s taking care of it?” The look in her eyes was one so angry that Steve regretted admitting to her that he and Cinna had taken her pup under their wings. 

“Mark my words, Steve Rogers…that stupid omega of yours will bring your pack to its knees,” she spat, “and you not killing my bastard will ensure that…you love your little precious omegas so much…you can protect them while I burn it all to the ground.”

“Is that a threat, Sharon?” he growled, angry over the intentional, subtle promise.

She smiled and shook her head, “not at all…alpha…it’s a promise!”

“You’re sick…Sharon…and you need help.”

Things had been uneventful since the birth of both Stevie and the delicate pup, which Cinna had named Peter, after one of her friends in the Stark pack for his sweet nature, that was a far cry from either one of his parents. 

While Cinna and Steve hadn’t set an exact time for the mating ceremony, they had both agreed that they weren’t going to do it until Cinna was fully healed from her surgery, and had been cleared medically for the consummation of their union. 

Something that Steve was beginning to get antsy about. 

In the short month that they had both been parents, Steve found himself on edge, watching over his omega so intently that on more than one occasion Sarah, Maria, Wanda, and even Sam had to pull them away from one another. 

Steve had admired the way that his omega mothered the pups.  She was always attentive to both of them, and didn’t care that Sharon had been the actual mother of one of them.  She fed them from her own breast, and bathed them with her own hands.  There were almost no moments when she didn’t have one of the pups with her, and in the short times where she didn’t, they were always close by. 

It drove an instinctual need in Steve to recreate everything that had happened over the nearly year long time frame that he’d known her. 

He wanted more pups. 

He wanted to add to the pack with his own legacy. 

He wanted to keep her filled, satiating her with his knot again and again until they were both quivering messes. 

And then he wanted to watch her mother them.  He wanted to see her raise the sweet pups, teaching them right from wrong as she fell into the natural role of being a mother and luna to the pack. 

There was no deeper sense of love than what Steve felt for Cinna.

And she felt every bit the same about him. 

She respected that he had the pack to run, but lived for the little moments when it was just them.  When he was watching her feeding the pups.  When he was cradling Stevie in his arms, and telling him that he was going to show him everything he needed to know about running a pack one day.  When he promised that he would give his son the moon and the stars, and he told the little pup who had no knowledge of the world, just how much he was in love with his omega. 

It made her heart swell.

That was the kind of love she’d always hoped for.

The kind of love that after joining the surrogate luna program, she had never expected to find. 

But that love, all the same, is what she came to experience.

So when Steve had told her that he had a meeting in their quarters, she offered to take Peter for a stroll in the gardens.  She had wanted to take Stevie too, but Steve insisted on keeping his young pup with him. 

“I just wanted to have some father son time,” Steve smiled as he held his pup in his arms.  The lively carbon copy of his father gurgled happily, reaching out to touch his father’s face, “going to have a meeting with Sam, and talk about pack business…”

“He won’t understand what you’re saying, alpha,” she purred as she leaned in to press a kiss to her pup’s chubby cheek, “he’s only a month and a half old.”

“This will be his pack one day, Luna,” Steve smiled softly as he nuzzled her cheek.  Cinna chittered excitedly and a low, sensual growl raised up from Steve’s chest.  Steve growled a little bit more when he caught the sweet notes of her scent, and how he could smell the faintest traces of her slick, “omega…”

“The doctor hasn’t cleared me yet, Steve,” she warned gently, playfully pushing herself away from her alpha.  She reached into the bassinet and picked Peter up, “and anyways, you alphas have your pack business…Peter and I will go take a walk outside and enjoy the perfect weather.”

“Let me call for one of the girls-“

“We’ll be fine, Steve,” she said with a giggle as she dismissed him, “let us omegas take care of ourselves for once…yeah?”  He growled once more and it caused her to giggle as she looked over her shoulder.  Steve frowned, “be careful, Luna…”

“Steve…you worry far too much.”

The shriek that tore Cinna from her thoughts sent a spark of anxiety through her chest.  She barely had time to get out of the way as a blur raced past her and landed hard on the ground. 

“YOU BITCH!”

Cinna ran, instantly starting towards the sparring grounds which were close by.  She knew that Wanda, Maria, and Sarah were all there, as she’d just gotten done visiting with them. 

Sharon was quick to get up, hot on her trail.  She shrieked once more, making Cinna’s hindbrain go into overdrive. 

She had known that Sharon hated the fact that Peter was allowed to live.  But even more so she knew that Sharon had hated the fact that she and Steve were raising the pup as though he was their own as well. 

And while a lot of Sharon’s pack were grateful that the pup wasn’t slaughtered, Sharon still had those that were loyal to her, and would often shoot glares in her direction if she was out with the pup, even if Steve was with them. 

“I’LL KILL YOU BOTH!”

“WANDA!” Cinna screamed, already able to see the sparring grounds, “MARIA!  SARAH!”

The three women turned, seeing Cinna running, cradling Peter in her arms, with a nearly feral Sharon looking like she was going to shred both omegas, regardless of their status.  Maria was quick to rush them first, changing between forms to reach the two she-wolves that were still in human form before Sharon could reach Cinna and the pup. 

Sarah rushed in as well, dropping her weapons and transforming, while Wanda began working her magic to conjure a barrier for Cinna and the pup to get behind. 

“STOP!” she commanded, knowing the alpha command would work on the omega. 

Cinna tried to fight every instinct, but was forced to her knees, howling in pain.  She nearly dropped Peter as her body forced her to go along with the alpha command, allowing Sharon to close in. 

But Maria and Sarah were already there.  Maria took her head on, while Sarah created a secondary barrier between herself and Sharon and Maria.  Wanda appeared and shielded them with her own little bubble of magic, before dropping to her own knees and checking on Cinna.

“Sarah linked Sam…Steve and him should be here-“

Steve’s golden wolf jumped into action, quickly pinning Sharon before she could shift.  He growled at her, nearly frothing at the mouth because of his own anger. 

“THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND HER!” Sharon spat, “THAT IS MY PUP AND HE DESERVES TO DIE FOR HIS DESIGNATION.  IT’S WRITTEN IN MY PACK’S CHARTERS, STEVE.  LET ME GO!”

The golden wolf growled once more, disagreeing with her, before he shifted back into his human form.  He turned his attention to the woman that he loved. 

“Wanda…are she and Peter alright?”

“I think so alpha!” she said quickly, “I-I can’t stop the alpha command though until I know she’s alright.  Do you have Sharon  contained?”

“Luna…free yourself from Sharon’s command!” Steve ordered, not wanting to wait.  Cinna looked up at her mate and he gave her a sad look, “what happened?”

“She-she tried to kill Peter…she-“

“IT’S MY RIGHT!” she screamed, glaring at the omega, “I WANT THEM BOTH DEAD!”

“You’re done, Sharon,” Steve said firmly with a shake of his head, “I’m putting you in the dungeon until I can figure out what to do with you…”

“You can’t do that to me.  We run the pack together, Steve.”

“Then leave,” he said firmly, “if you do not want to be jailed until we can figure this out, you will be exiled…you can take anyone that wants to go with you…but anyone that wants to stay and remain under my pack will be granted asylum.”

“You can’t do this to me, Steve…”

“I am doing it, Sharon,” he growled with finality, “you’re putting my pack in danger, and it’s time that I take action, before you destroy it.”

“Are you sure that this is what you want, Luna?”

Cinna shook her head as the tears started to roll down her cheeks, “I-I know that he isn’t ours…but he feels like he’s my pup too, Steve…I just feel like a failure…I feel like I’m giving up on him.”

“Hey…you’re not giving up on him,” Pepper said firmly as she reached out to her younger sister.  Cinna looked to her older sister, and Pepper gave her a sad smile, “you’re doing what a good mother would do and you’re looking out for your pup…”

“We’ll take good care of him,” Tony promised gently as he came to his wife and mate’s side, “we’ll make sure that Peter is loved.”

“I know,” she admitted as she wiped away a few more of the tears with her free hand.  She looked down to where the pup was sleeping against her chest, “I-I just didn’t think it would be this hard letting him go.”

“You can see him any time that you want,” Pepper said quickly, “and he won’t be alone…you know that.  He’ll have Morgan to help show him around the pack.  She’ll be like a big sister to him.”

“Morgan is a great pup…”

“This is for the best, Luna,” Steve said gently as he wrapped an arm around Cinna’s waist, “Alpha Stark is being very gracious in allowing us to place the pup within his pack.”

“He’ll be alright, Steve.”

“I trust you, Tony.”

The two alphas shared a moment of silence as Cinna looked to her older sister, “he-he likes it when you sing him to sleep…he-he likes that one song that mom used to sing to us when we were little.”

Pepper gave her own teary smile at the mention of their mother, “you kept up with traditions with him?”

Cinna nodded tearily as she sniffled, “Yeah…Peter likes hearing the one about where the wolf fell in love with the moon…”

“That was always my favorite too…”

“Yeah…”

“We’ll take good care of him, Cinna…”

“Yeah,” she repeated, sniffling once more, “I-I know…”

“You’re a good mother, Cinna,” Pepper smiled at her sister, “and you’re a good luna to your pack…with a good alpha to raise a family with.”

“Thank you, sister.”

“Treat her well, Rogers…”

“Always!” Steve promised.

Chapter 9

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @mrsevans90

#surrogate luna #a/b/o fic #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #alpha steve rogers #tony stark #pepper potts #sharon carter #sam wilson #wanda maximov #wanda mcu #maria hill #sarah wilson

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

https://www.tumblr.com/aspiringwarriorlibrarian/743631034485227520/well-it-was-a-good-effort-but-i-think-it-has

If this is about Ironwood again, the problem is that he was basing his assumptions on faulty information, the taunting of a woman who, as far as they knew, was a known manipulator. And he blindly believed her and let his panic override his judgment.

Team RWBY were trying to stop him from making a poorly thought out and hasty decision based on panic, and probably would have been fine with him fleeing if he’d just let the evacuation finish.

But he didn’t because he didn’t care about Mantle. And frankly his plan was doomed to fail the minute Salem revealed her flying whale, because it proved that he wouldn’t be able to run away from a Flying Fortress in a kingdom that has a lot of mass and would still need its Relic Djinn to be told what to do.

Oh it wasn't about Ironwood, it's an anon who sends me jokes they come up with and I reply in character.

But you are absolutely right on all accounts. If he'd been thinking at all he'd have realized that the ships the SDC sent were gonna evacuate Mantle citizens to Atlas (they're automated, it's probably the only thing they know how to do) and then the conflict would be gone because everyone's on the same boat now. Penny flies back to open the vault, Oscar yeets the Salem goo off the island, and they drive Atlas into the atmosphere and use the SDC tower at Atlas Academy to restore the CCT. Cinder would still be a problem, but it still would have solved the vast majority of his problems to let the Mantle citizens come to Atlas. But if there's one thing Ironwood can be trusted to do, especially after he completed his character arc from heroic general into military dictator, it's shoot himself in the foot because he's a control freak with a superpower that's literally the sunk cost fallacy. He ordered Mantle abandoned, so abandoned they'll stay, and helping them is insubordination.

#rwby analysis #the man spent six volumes getting to this state he's not backing out now.

[cinematicnomad]

not to expound on the tags in my last reblog re:buckley v diaz parents, but i am going to do just that lol

when i look at the buckley parents i see a pair of people who were traumatized by the death of their child and their reaction to that trauma was actively harmful. they were emotionally negligent of maddie and buck, they parentified maddie and left it to her to raise buck, and they tried to bury the existence of daniel because they were so unequipped to deal with their grief and a byproduct of that was further traumatizing maddie, who had no outlet for her grief and was taught to hide it instead, and harmed buck by creating this giant gulf in his own family narrative by which he fundamentally could not connect with his parents or understand their actions.

things i saw in the other tags and posts that i disagree with: i don't think they blamed buck for failing to save daniel—that is not something we see them doing nor is it something we hear maddie and/or buck accusing them of. buck certainly FEELS like he's at fault when he finds out the truth, but that's because of the fact that it was hidden from him for so long. if anything, you could argue that part of their faulty rationalization when hiding daniel's existence was to protect buck from that feeling. i am not arguing that that logic is sound or defensible, just merely stating a position that would imply they are not blaming buck.

i also, just, don't blame them for having buck to save daniel? there are certainly ethical quandaries to be had about parents having a savior baby and all that entails. but i also don't fault a set of parents for doing whatever was necessary and grabbing at every opportunity to try and save their son's life even if, yes, it meant having another child. now, CLEARLY they weren't mentally or emotionally equipped to raise that child after daniel died, and it's obvious that they did not consider this outcome when they decided to have buck because of the actions they eventually take, but i also don't fault them for the initial decision.

the other thing i would argue about is in regards to if the buckley parents love their children. i think we can answer that based on what we see of them in canon. we learn that the whole reason buck developed a reckless streak was because it was learned behavior as a child. he realized that when he put himself in danger, or injured himself, or was sick, he received the love and affection he craved from his parents. that is MONUMENTALLY fucked up. they SHOULD have been able to show him that love at all times. they caused him lifelong emotional damage that he needs to heal on his own because they could not access their own emotions except for in situations of extreme fear and concern. was it enough? no. does the fact that they showed him love and care in these moments make up for the times they withheld it from him? of course not. but i think it's evidence that the love was, fundamentally, still there. similarly, in regards to maddie, their concern about her relationship with doug was telling.

it's obvious to me, at least, that for the buckley's they’re so emotionally numbed that the only times their emotions are actually let out is when triggered by extreme fear for their children's safety. that is not healthy. that is not okay. but it is informed by their trauma surrounding daniel's death, and it is something i can understand even if i find it harmful.

basically, i really do think that canon got it right when maddie said they were good people but bad parents. i think it's generalizing it a bit, but fundamentally i think that's a pretty insightful read on them. they are people who underwent an extreme trauma and it changed them for the rest of their life to the point that they could not parent their children and that is not okay. but when i look at the two sets of parents discussed in the post, i can understand the reasons for one's actions, and i cannot understand the others.

#i'm not even tagging this with anything lol #why did i type all this out oh my god #i will probably delete this

[sketching-shark]

Can you give an example of what are your yaoguai Golden Cicada's desires be would even be. Like I always thought the reason he fell asleep during class was that he was just a dumb teenager (cause cicadas emerge around 13-17 years even though most have a life cycle of 2-5) who'd over worked himself to the point of exhaustion and never asked for help. I thought that was point of all the kidnappings to force "Cicada" to realize that he needed help weather he liked it or not

Although now that I'm typing this out he might have been lonely. It couldn't have been easy to be an adult cicada and just kept on living, while the rest of his brood die after two months. Is he the only bug immortal? Does he have someone to confide in that understands?(Sorry if this is a lot, I just really like cicada)

Well anon in all honestly this is something I haven't even thought about that hard eawgrgrefed. If anything this was just based on my own personal and perhaps faulty sense of "falling asleep during a lecture doesn't seem like that big a deal" & "spending ten lives in the dust of Earth makes a lot more sense if his 'heedlessness' of Buddha was something much worse." And as per usual it needs to be acknowledged that the religious name "Golden Cicada" could be much more of a metaphor for rebirth/the 'casting off' of worldly desires than having anything to do with the actual insects. But we have very little information on who or what Golden Cicada "canonically" was, so that leaves a lot of room for interpretation.

AND SO THAT SAID you are bringing in some interesting potentials for this slowly formulating pre-Xiyouji tale anon! Because in JTTW we do encounter a number of yaoguai who earned their power and 'human' form from surreptitiously listening to the teachings of various boddhisatvas, and it could make for an interesting story if Buddha's second disciple started out life as an actual cicada who Buddha gladly granted a human form to in a similar way but deliberately when he saw the little insect listening to him intently. One one hand such a major transformation really would be an example of the mutability of all things and perhaps an act of mercy on the Buddha's part under the assumption that only humans have a chance of achieving enlightenment. And perhaps for some time (for we don't know how long Golden Cicada maintained the position of Buddha's second disciple) his life was one of peace and contemplation. But oh how things can change.

Maybe Golden Cicada came to formulate a sense that for as pleased and as proud as he was to be Buddha's second disciple, the others still saw him as less because of his insect origin. Maybe his status as Buddha's second disciple came with all kinds of pressure to always behave in an idealized way, something that could be very frustrating for Golden Cicada, especially if this was his first time being a human and having all these human emotions and having to follow all these human rules that he never experienced as a cicada. So maybe he starts putting more and more pressure and expectations on himself to figure out how he's Supposed To Act Like The Perfect Human without really understanding (or even at times refusing to accept) that these are things you can't simply immediately pick up and need someone to guide you, partially because of a holdover of the fact that cicadas rely on no one but themselves to survive from day one, and partially because he convinced himself he has an image to maintain as Buddha's second disciple. So he spends his nights studying later and later, and his days feeling like he can't tell anyone about his troubles because he needs to hold himself to a certain standard. And, well, there's no one in the heavenly realm or at the Thunderclap Monastery is quite like him. Even the Buddha's compassion couldn't erase that fact. It all makes Golden Cicada a little standoffish and surly, even while he still maintains his pride for his closeness to the Buddha.

And then one fateful day, in spite of all of his studies and efforts to maintain the image of the perfect disciple, Golden Cicada commits what seems to him an unforgivable act; he falls asleep while Buddha is giving a lecture. When he wakes up from the Buddha gently shaking his shoulder, he sees that all of the other disciples are staring at him. Some are whispering and quietly laughing, likely finding it hilarious that the prideful second disciple would have committed this error. The Buddha simply smiles and tells Golden Cicada to rest better at night before resuming his teaching.

But for the rest of that lecture, Golden Cicada doesn't pay any attention, too stung by humiliation and a bruised sense of pride. He was trying SO HARD to be the perfect disciple, and this is where it got him.

After the lecture, Golden Cicada wanted to flee, but instead he stays behind at the Buddha's request. He expects to be punished for having disrespected his teacher. Instead, however, the Buddha says that he knows about the late nights of study and the restless days of uncertainty and haughtiness that currently define Golden Cicada's life. The Buddha had been waiting patiently for Golden Cicada to actively tell his teacher about his troubles, but he sees that his second disciple has fallen prey to a very common mistake; that in his efforts to seem worthy of his position, Golden Cicada was allowing his character to diminish through a refusal to do anything that might appear to harm his image, even asking for help. The Buddha tells Golden Cicada that he is far from the first to do so, even stating that he himself had once fallen prey to this mentality; how in the Buddha's own youth, he never even thought to look "below" his high caste station, believing he would be forever happy as one of the best of humanity, when in truth he was nothing but an overindulged and spoiled prince who only learned about suffering in the world when he grew so bored of pleasure that he decided on a whim to see what lay beyond the palace doors. It was only after the shock of realizing how wrong his sense of himself and his understanding of the world was that he was able to start his journey of Enlightenment and become the Buddha.

What the Buddha thus wanted Golden Cicada to understand through this honestly minor mistake is that there's a vast abyss between striving to look like you're an Enlightened individual, and genuinely striving to be an Enlightened individual. That to truly achieve Enlightenment, Golden Cicada needs to comprehend how harmful his ego is even to himself; to accept that an active effort to cultivate oneself requires developing genuine and active compassion for all living things, including himself, so that he can forgive himself for the ignorance all are born within, and use that hard-won knowledge to take one step after another towards nirvana.

The Buddha understood that his second disciple was terrified his teacher would be angry. But of course he's not. Golden Cicada is still very young, younger than even the Buddha was when he first embarked on his own true steps towards Enlightenment. And the Buddha has experienced for himself how difficult it is to achieve this without a few human mistakes.

Golden Cicada is still embarrassed, but he is relieved that his teacher isn't angry with him. And in all honestly, he can see the merit of the Buddha's words. He thanks the Buddha for his understanding and for the lesson, and goes about his day feeling lighter than he has for a long time.

And yet...and yet Golden Cicada cannot (will not) ignore the light teasing some of his fellow disciples send his way. Every question that reveals his ignorance seems like a barb against his sense of self. His origin as a cicada still seems to stand as an unbreachable void between himself and every other entity in both heaven and at the Thunderclap Monastery. And though he cannot admit it, he starts to resent the Buddha for having taken him on as his second disciple. How could his teacher think that giving lectures was the way to solve the world's suffering when there was so much pain he could alleviate if the Buddha only utilized his unfathomable power and made everyone stop being so cruel? How could his act of turning one cicada into a human for a chance at Enlightenment be considered merciful, given that every last one of Golden Cicada's four hundred brothers and sisters, and countless cicadas besides, were doomed to die two months after they emerged from the ground?

Golden Cicada had heard the stories about even deities descending to Earth so that they could live free from the expectations of the heavenly court, embracing and indulging in all the joys that realm had to offer.

He decides to descend as well.

---

He has, perhaps, lost all rights to call himself Buddha's second disciple, but Golden Cicada, now bearing multiple insect-like features upon his still mostly human form, finds he no longer cares. Because here there's lots of different people like him; spider yaoguai, scorpion yaoguai, centipede yaoguai, even nine-headed yaoguai insects, and no one bats and eye over any of this. But best of all for Golden Cicada is that NO ONE can deny his power or his high status. Having been the second disciple of the Buddha himself, Golden Cicada's cultivation translated in his yaoguai form to vast magical powers far above that of any other yaoguai he encountered. A number of these yaoguai asked to form a fraternal alliance with him, and for some time Golden Cicada felt that the loneliness which he struggled to ignore in heaven was assuaged.

But his obvious superiority against all others soon leads him to believe that, in truth, he neither wants nor needs any friends or even companions. What Golden Cicada slowly, insidiously, but absolutely comes to desire is pawns who will follow his every order, who will indulge his every whim, who will do everything they can to ensure that his sense of pride remains unchecked. At first the his fellow yaoguai desired his company out of genuine admiration, but now it is all tinged with ever-growing fear as to what Golden Cicada can and will do if they do not obey his commands. As strong as he may be and as much as he has learned about the martial arts in his time on Earth, of course, Golden Cicada has no desire to tangle with the likes of Erlang Shen or Li Nezha. So he keeps all his violence targeted at yaoguai, and grows rich off the treasures from their caves and the labor he forces upon them.

His pride in his power grows ever more monstrous.

On one of his raids against a yaoguai community, Golden Cicada massacres a troop of four-eared yaoguai macaques. The only one he spares is a strange little infant with six ears. For all its crying, he muses on how it would, tied to a post with a golden chain, make for a one-of-a-kind and amusing curiosity in his ever-expanding treasure rooms. A number of the macaques had thrown themselves at his feet and begged Golden Cicada to take everything he wanted, but not their precious infant. They were easy to slaughter.

He didn't kill them for any particular reason. It was just because they were stupid creatures in his way, and because he could.

Soon after, Golden Cicada has an encounter with an enraged monkey wielding an iron staff.

Nine lifetimes later, Tang Sanzang encounters this same monkey, and agrees to free him from under a mountain.

#anon answered #shark's scribbles #lmaooooo sorry that this turned into an entire fic but you got my brain chugging anon #jttw au #golden cicada #tang sanzang #i hope i did the buddha justice but of course don't fail to let me know if i could do better

[randomfoggytiger]

SCULLY, The Enigmatic ISTJ

Everyone seems to agree unanimously on this typing-- and I concur. But there’s more to our cool, collected, complex medical-doctor-FBI-agent Dana Scully than meets the eye... SO! Let’s not waste time. 

(Note: This is not based on the MBTI system-- disclaimer at the bottom~.)

SCULLY

ISTJs are the most honest, straightforward, and sensible of the Types. It’s easy to see why Scully fits into this category. But another little twist (that fits her to a T) is the preconceived misperception of ISTJs as a whole: boring and by-the-books. ISTJs are incredibly complex; but most of it is stored inside, requiring only the tiniest bit of effort to draw it out. Most people don’t consider them worth that effort. Those who do can’t imagine a life without them.

To keep it simple, this analysis will only tackle the ISTJ’s 8 dominant functions:

The Hero Function: The most effortless of an ISTJ’s functions is its Introverted Sensing (Si for short.) It gives Scully a connection to what “was”-- her memories, security, habits, faith, and a drive to share these experiences with others-- and gives her endurance to care for and cultivate what is. It is particularly in-tune with physical comfort: ISTJs must have everything in its place, often excessively cleaning.  

Their Si endurance gives them both extreme sensitivity to the gut punches of life but also extreme tenacity to get back up. It can also deeply embitter them, as they never forget the injustices that are dealt to themselves and others. They pride their ability to endure the hits; but-- when mature-- they take time to be humble about their life experiences and to acknowledge their limits.

Another interesting element to an ISTJ’s Si is that it exists to assist others on their quests, choosing a secondary rather than primary role. But, MORE IMPORTANTLY, it’s used to swiftly cover up others’ massive mistakes. Si Hero constantly puts the lives of those around them back into order, whether it’s catching minor fine print details that others would miss or catching someone right before they trip and tumble off a cliff into a multi-million-dollar lawsuit.

The Parent Function: The ISTJ’s Thinking Extroverted Function (Te for short) is its pessimistic parent, and relies heavily on rules, metrics, standards, reputation, and beliefs. They are THE walking Library of Alexandria: constantly talking reference points in not only past or current events, but conversations they’ve had or information they’ve read at one time somewhere. This obsessive hunt for knowledge is solely to prevent society from being stupid; but they can take a hypocritical bend if their fear of faulty logic makes them rely too heavily on ONLY tried-and-true facts that doesn’t account for the whole.

When combined with their Si Hero, Te Parent gravitates to duty-bound professions (police, first responders, coast guard, etc.), choosing to be a delegatory task force member rather than in a position of authority. They do, however, want status: they want to look GOOD, to be recognized as the classy (and hopefully VIP) citizens they hone themselves to be.

In romantic relationships, they prefer to be pursued with respect, and are immediately repulsed by those that flash their own pride in themselves around for all to see. Flattery wins them over VERY easily (because they believe they’ve easily earned any compliment handed to them.)  

The Child Function: The most idealistic of the functions is an ISTJ’s Feeling Introverted Child (Fi for short)-- the moral compass and measurer of principles, values, investment, mood, and worth. Almost in direct opposition to Te Parent, Fi Child serves as the finger that Scully measures the wind with: if an ISTJ doesn’t FEEL good about whatever is unfolding around them, they will disengage (leaving physically if necessary) to avoid the situation entirely.

This leads them to sticking their head in the sand, tossing the issue aside and lazily spouting whatever the current collective opinion on the subject is. They then start building their giant towers of knowledge on a weak foundation, leaving their entire library vulnerable to the first wind that comes along.

This rut of familiarity and fear of uncomfortable experiences can keep them locked into procrastination, possibly their whole lives. With maturity, they see the wisdom of verification; and that true intelligence is gained by exploring scary and hard-to-swallow truths.

(On the bright side, this makes them resistant to emotional manipulation, since they know they’re a good person who is trying their best. Scully’s reaction to being scolded by Ritter in “Tithonus” is a perfect example.)

The Inferior Function: The most aspirational of an ISTJ’s Functions, Extroverted Intuition (Ne for short)-- deals with prescience of metaphysics, possibilities, and --in short-- collective fate. It is afraid of the future: society’s decline and collapse seem to be always on the horizon. This fuels the ISTJs strive for knowledge, acquiring more and more to gain confidence that everyone’s futures are secure so long as humanity does not forget the lessons of the past. 

They see history as a constantly repeating cycle; and they make it their personal duty to recognize this cycle and transform it, bringing awareness to dire and unaddressed issues.

But again-- ISTJs MUST verify their beliefs first, and they MUST break out of their comfort zone before that. In order to get them out of their aforementioned Fi Child rut, Ne Inferior must be made uncomfortable. Their life must be put into question: their decisions and their choices they’ve made must be prodded. Have they done enough? Are they doing enough?

If they’re not shaken out of their laziness, the ISTJs will wake up one day and wonder where all the years have gone as they sit, unfulfilled, in the very same spot they were fifteen, twenty, thirty years ago.

The Nemesis Function: ISTJs’ Extroverted Sensing (Se for short) is where their worry lies-- it provides observation on personal performance to the outside world. Se Nemesis is deeply affected by first impressions and goes above and beyond to put their best foot forward always. They are obsessively clean: their clothes are clean, tailored, and unoffensive, and their personal belongings are spotless. They cannot stand a messy environment, can’t relax on a lazy weekend if something is out of its exact designated place. 

They are also known for keeping their own personal spaces away from loved ones, going so far as to militantly draw lines around “their things” to keep them from devolving into a mess (ex. Scully keeping her own apartment and preferring to hang out with Mulder at his place-- even after they were seriously dating. And yes, that is a thing ISTJs do in real life.)

The Critic Function: As the grumpiest grandparent of the functions, Introverted Thinking Critic doles out self-doubt to what ISTJs “know”, providing them with a kick-in-the-pants to verify their beliefs. It helps to deduce the truth from their aggregated collection of data (usually provided by Mulder’s Ti Hero, link here), and is insanely powerful... if it can be pried from the fearful death grip of the Te Parent’s over-reliance on conventional wisdom.

When used correctly, it serves as its own commitment to the truth, and allows ISTJs to be the most objective of all types (to be discussed further in--)

The Trickster Function: The “blind-spot” function for the ISTJs is their Extroverted Feeling Trickster-- in a surprising turn of events, this means that Scully is largely unaware of social norms: the current culture “do’s” and “dont’s” when it comes to bonding as a community or accepted, inclusive ethics evade her grasp. 

ISTJs have no idea how others feel, know this, and doubt their own perceptions constantly (which is why Scully is so easily duped by shapeshifters and CSM in “En Ami”; or shaken in her opinions of Mulder in “Grotesque”, “Pine Bluff Variant”, “Folie au Deux”, etc.) They are also usually more “awkward” in new situations, largely unaware of their faux pas (until criticism activates their Se Nemesis’ embarrassment and their Si Hero's permanent memory.) At their most extreme, they have no sense of boundaries, i.e. following someone into the bathroom while engrossed in a conversation (or asking Langly to pass the striker saw while he was one whiff away from vomiting over his dead friend’s autopsy.)

Hilariously, the Scully of S1 was her “truest” form before she leveled-up her Te Parent; but it (thankfully) never truly vanishes-- she may have dumped her crazy fashion sense, but she still munches chicken wings over a room full of skeletons and giddily discusses bile worms with her just-as-intrigued partner. Even MORE hilariously, she is less aware of social norms than MULDER-- he just doesn’t care about them (which leaves her scrambling to smooth feathers that Mulder ruffled right before she walked into the room.) 

The Demon Function: Coming in last is the strongest and most dangerous function: Introverted Intuition. This serves as the destruction button when ISTJs are pushed to their maximum. ISTJs struggle daily with discouragement; because of this, they know the value of encouragement, and spend most of their energy supporting and lifting up others’ around them. The primary way they encourage others is to warn them of the outcome of their choices. If others ignore their warnings, ISTJs will HURT them. Not only because their status and reputation were harmed, but also because they were disrespected. And, more importantly, because no one valued them enough to listen. 

It is gut wrenching for an ISTJ to feel unwanted, as they bend over backwards to care for the ones they love without expecting anything in return. If they aren’t valued enough to be listened to, ISTJs become embittered; and cut their losses by handing self-destructive information to their enemies and leaving with grace before the explosion.  

Fortunately, Ni Demon can also serve as their greatest tool for happiness-- it frees them to take risks. It gives them liberty to stare into their darkest fears, take the plunge, and come out stronger-- but they can’t do it alone.

ISTJs’ “boring” reputation comes from the stagnation of their unfulfilling routines. As discussed in their Fi Child section, ISTJs need to be wanted, to have someone to put their backs up against (but usually only admit to this once they have matured their Si Hero.) With this person they no longer fear never being “chosen”; and leap farther and ascend higher than they ever have before, crazily laughing in the cold rain. Happy.

Thank you for reading! Leave suggestions anywhere you like if you want a character analysis of anyone else~.

Disclaimers: This is a self-assessed analysis. This information is not based on the abominable MBTI system (which has been butchered from its original Jungian typology since ~WWII); instead, it’s a combination between the works of Jung’s type psychology, Dr. Linda Berens’ Communication styles, Dr. Dario Nardi’s EEG brain scan compiled research, and others’ data and practices as compiled and simplified by CSJoseph. This system is based only on the Nature side of Nature/Nurture; and each “type” is not a “box” to fit everyone into– simply a tool to help understand the basics of the human mind that science has only begun to fathom in its limited scope.

#txf #x-files #the x-files #Scully #The Enigmatic ISTJ #ISTJ #MBTI #but not #analysis #meta #mine #Types