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nexusnyx · 1 year

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Lost The Game

SUMMARY: The explanation your mind settled for was that whoever lived under that mask, also lived somewhere close by. It explained the first time you found him limping and bleeding on an alley, and it explains how you evolved into his personal caretaker for the wounds and afflictions of Spider-Man's after battle consequences.

The only thing it doesn't explain, however, is why through the thick and convoluted webs of your strange situationship, a certain tension has built between you two. Palpable. Physical. As electric as some of his tales, and as dangerous as he is.

The tension between you and Spidey grows, and it grows, and it grows. One day, it snaps.

⚠️ Minors DNI. | 🏷️ 4.9K , fluff, part one of three, reposting this 'cause some people missed this one and asked for it.

The explanation your mind settled for was that whoever lived under that mask, also lived somewhere close by.

It explained the first time you found him limping and bleeding on an alley, close to passing out and too lost in pain to make it wherever he wanted to in his mind.

That was the first time you helped Spider-Man, and the day that set the motion for one of the strangest turns in your life. For him to barge in through your metaphorical walls and literal window, and make his little nest inside your mind.

Spider-Man never shared his identity, and you never asked.

After you help him that night—the bad guys of that night turned out to be the first in a string of problems Oscorp created, and therefore the first of many visits you'd have from Spider in your area for the next two months to come.

Your apartment became the place he came to after he discovered something in his investigations, or even if it had just been a bad night filled with bad guys and bullet scrapes.

You never asked any questions, he found he could breathe inside your room, and hence commenced this... situantionship.

It was obvious you thought about it a lot.

While at work, during your classes and lectures, as you walked by the grocery shop and bought your eggs, it was often that thoughts of him stole all of your attention and derailed your mind to one of thousand questions:

Why does he keep coming back?

Why is so easy to talk to?

Is it normal that I want to hear his laughter, like, all the time now?

Does he think about me when he's living his everyday life being... whoever he is?

To some of your questions, eventually, you found answers.

To others, not so much.

The question: Why does he keep coming back? Was the easiest one to reply.

He did it for you, three months after the first visit.

"You're like, really chill about all of this, you know?" Spider said.

That night, his wound was a gash on the middle of his back. He said he'd fallen out of a roof after a miscalculated web shot, and while chasing the robber and trying to keep the bag from falling out of his other hand, he'd landed on something and it resulted in this.

"I told you before, I'm a—"

"Nurse student, uhum, I know," he interrupted.

Spider always kept his mask lifted above his lips at your house. It was tradition since you had to give him water that very first night after he passed out. You'd lifted his mask only halfway, taken the straw to his lips and then, you'd seen his lips tremble as he thanked you for keeping his identity to himself.

You were ninety percent sure that was the whole reason he trusted you so easily.

"I'm not talking about the horrible and gross stuff on my body that I come to you with, though," he continued. Spider's smile was nice, but you never kept your eye on it for too long. You liked how he rambled a lot—it was a nice contrast to your blunt and short way to be. "I'm talking about the whole—I have a secret identity and keeping that part of me hidden is something important to me not because I'm me, but because Spider is Spider and I don't want people to be related to me when I'm also Spider 'cause that's—that's dangerous." Spidey licked his dry lips, and you put the cotton back on his back, cleaning the stitches. "That part."

That ramble in particular carried more than your usual nonsensical, silly conversations.

Spider came around not often, but enough times that you know knew some random facts about him. He may not share who he was, but the mask gave him an outing to share other things.

Like this. The fear of why knowing who the man behind the mask is.

You wondered who he'd lost already.

"It makes sense," you finally said. "And plus. I told before: I don't need to know anything you don't wanna tell me." That part was very true. You were content with how things were—the tidbits he shared about himself, the weird and random late-night visits that made your tedious life at least a little exciting every now and then. "You're a funny dude, Spider-boy—"

He jumps in. "Man, Spider-Man."

Oh, it was so easy to tease this Spider-Man. You continued, as if he hadn't interrupted. "I'm content with our little talks about the planets and the late stages of capitalism. Don't need much else."

He chuckled. You were done patching him up, and Spider gets up to check his back on your mirror. "You're a rare and peculiar being, Miss Y/l/n. And this is a neat job, woah." He looked back at you, and you realized you were getting used to the big eyes. "You're getting better at this."

You preened under the praise. "Really?!"

"Yeah. This is worlds better than the first stiches you gave me. Like—not a single comparison," he laughed.

You threw a pillow at him. "Ungrateful fuck. You were dying—"

"I was not dying, I was a few blinks away from a momentary state of unconsciousness—"

"—that's literally one of the first stages before death—"

"—Is it? Are there stages of death? 'Cause I'm pretty resilient. I don't know if you know this about spiders, but like—we're very strong. I heal fast, you said it yourself."

"Why do I even patch you up?" You crossed your arms. There was a ridiculous, huge smile on your face. "If you're so good at healing yourself."

Spider threw his hands in the air, and ducked his shoulders in retreat. "No—no, that's not—let's not get ahead of ourselves here. I may not have been dying, but I would've been in very bad sheets if it hadn't been for you. Really." He put his hands together in prayer. "I thanked you every day I came for weeks after that. You know I'm grateful, c'mon."

It was hard pretending to be mad at him. "I know, Spider-boy." This time, the nickname pulled a smile out of him. Every time you said with fondness, that was the result. Still, you wondered. "But seriously, though. Is there... a reason you come back to me, now? I'm not asking because I mind. Or because it's a bother—I meant when I said I like our talks. I just wonder, 'cause... I imagine you don't want people who live with you to see you wounded."

I know it hurts me when I do, and I barely even know you.

He must've seen how you meant it. How that was one of the questions brought by him being in your life, and maybe for that reason, he answered.

"I actually live close by," Spider chuckled. "I was trying to get home that day. In the alley."

"Oh."

"Yeah... And you were so nice, that I just..."

"Came back."

"Yup." He smiled with his lips closed, and you nodded, glad to have an answer to at least one of your questions.

So he came back because he did live close by. Your assumptions on that had been right, and it made sense, too. It explained his visits, and how this was always the direction he ended in at the end of the day.

The only thing it doesn't explain, however, is why through the thick and convoluted webs of your strange situationship, a certain tension has built between you two.

As the months grow, so does the inevitable and clear reality that there may be a mask between you and him, but that you two are people.

The heat of your hand against his back, his ribs, his torso—they're real.

The way his lips get dry whenever he drops by your window with a broken rib or an excuse to be there in the first place and he's greeted with the sight of you sleeping in nothing but a t-shirt—that's real.

Tension. Building up like electricity in the distance, only the wind blowing stronger and the air getting crisper as an indicator that a storm is brewing and close by.

Connection. Growing with each conversation and thick moment of silence, the number of times when either one of you has to rip your gaze away from each other's lips.

That's real and palpable. Physical. As electric as some of his tales, and as dangerous as he is.

The tension between you and Spidey grows, and it grows, and it grows.

One day, it snaps.

It's 03:19 in the morning, and if Spider arrived ten or fifteen minutes later, you'd be out.

Dead to this world and unable to answer his taps on your window.

It's Saturday, the very first one of your summer break, and that means all windows are closed to avoid the bugs and to keep the air conditioning in. It also means baby dolls to bed, hair tied up if you want to stay alive without sweating like a pig, and being so sleep-drunk after binge-watching endless hours of tv shows you needed to catch up on that you had no right to answer the door.

Or the window.

You drank half a bottle of wine alone in bed.

You were almost out.

It had been two weeks since you last him (not that you were counting) and you weren't expecting him—truly, you weren't, but when Spider knocks, you answer.

It's rhythmic, like every time:

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock.

Five quick taps. Tap, tap.

Your eyes blink wide open, despite their desire to be very closed right now.

The alcohol seems gone from your body. In its place, it left a thirst, a low hum, and there he is.

Spider-boy.

There's no need to get up from your bed; it's placed right under the big vertical window that leads to the staircase outside the building, so you just ruffle through your duvets until you reach the lock and let him in.

Spider does the favor of not falling with his sticky, likely bloody suit on your bed. Instead, he drops to the floor with a loud thud and a grunt, and you chuckle to yourself.

Thank god you live with a roomate in a loft and not with your parents.

"And he says he's gracious, ladies and gentlefolk," are your greeting words to him. "Evening, mister. You injured?"

From your bed, it's impossible to see his figure on the floor. Your bed is tall, and after all these months, you know better than to worry yourself sick every time he comes to your house. The first visits were almost certain heart attacks, but you pray this isn't one of those times where Spidey met a weird mutation or some semi-alien thing.

"I'm good," he says from the floor. There's a ruffling and some more grunting, and you picture him lifting the mask—up, up, up; stopping underneath the nose, perched right on top of it so he can breath fresh air. "Oh, fuck."

"What's wrong?" So much for not worrying. Well, you tried at least. He can hear your heartbeat rising—and fuck, that is embarrassing every time.

"I think—I thiiiiink..."

"Dude. You're scaring me," you cat-walk on the bed until you're positioned at the edge and you can see him, and Spider's got his right hand over his left shoulder. "What did you do?"

"I don't know?" He sounds and looks confused. And a bit in pain. Usually, when there's that thin layer of sweat covering his body, it means he's in pain. "I think I dislocated my shoulder. I wouldn't know. Never dislocated a shoulder before."

"Jesus fucking christ," you get out from the bed, wobbling a little to detangle from your sheets. You kneel by his side and slap his hand away from his shoulder, inspecting it with caution. What would he have done if he hadn't stumbled upon you? Fallen on multiple houses until some merciful soul who knew basic medical care agreed to patch him up? Jesus. "You did."

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, fuck."

"Stand still and breathe through your nose."

"What?" Spider perks up. "Ah! Are you gonna put it back?"

"Yes. Now breathe for me." If there's one thing to be said about him, is that he's a good listener. "Good. I'll feel you up 'till I got the right place, I'll count to three, I'll snap. Easy-peasy. 'Kay?"

"You done this before?"

You scoff. "I've got three brothers and they all play sports, Spider-boy. I was on the wrestling team. Does that answer your question?"

He nods, smiling in amazement. "Yeah. Alright."

"Okay. Breathe through your nose, outta your mouth. Relax the best you can."

Popping shoulders back in place is a tricky thing to do if you have no idea what it's the goal, but once you learn it, it's basically like closing a lid. You run your palms smoothly and gently through Spider's shoulders and he breathes, and as soon as you feel his relaxation, you pop it back.

"Ow! Fuck! Ow, ow, Y/n, what the hell—there was no counting! Where was the counting? Ow, fuck—"

"If I counted you would've tensed up," you chuckle. "Breathe again, steady and easy. Don't move that shoulder around too much."

Spider focuses on your face, and you imagine his eyes must be burning holes through your forehead. You laugh because all you can see is the bug-like eyes, and it's a comedic, but fond sight to have—he thinks he's being intimidating, you just wish he smelled a little worse after a whole night of helping save the city.

You climb back on your bed, feeling the sleepiness creeping around the corners of your mind.

There's silence for a while, and you can feel Spider moving around the floor. He must be feeling up his sore shoulder, and you've grown used to the peaks in quietness and never-ending words that come out of him.

A pendulum, and a balance.

You open your tablet once again, then restart the episode of the documentary you'd been seeing from zero. It's just background noise, and given the hour, Spider will probably leave soon.

That's what you're thinking.

He usually leaves when the injury's minor. He hangs around if the time is somewhat earlier than it is today, asks about your day, or just continues the flow of conversation that started when he sat down and you started tending his wounds. Then he leaves. "I don't wanna impose too much."

"Thank you for the hospitality, milady."

"As always, Miss Y/l/n, goodnight and thank you very, very much."

"You have, like, glitter in your hair. Did you know you've got glitter in your hair? You should shower again. What—don't throw pillows at me—oh, is this Dori? I'm taking this home with me, this is so fucking cute. Oop. No, this isn't yours—you used it as a weapon against me so now I'm taking it as collateral damage. Bye, Y/n!"

This night, Spider props his head on the edge of your bed.

You pause the video, and look to your side.

With most people, silence feels suffocating or uncomfortable.

With him, it's nothing but another blanket to lie on.

"What's on your mind?" You ask. Your voice is a breath, a soft whisper, but you're aware of his listening abilities by now.

Spider's mouth presses on a thin line. Dances in a pout from left to right, and he looks around your room instead of answering.

Patiently, you wait for his answer.

When it comes, he's looking over to your wardrobe. Specifically, the part where you hang all your polaroids. He looks over to that part a lot.

Whatever thought is running through his mind, it's a big one.

Spider shakes his head from left to right abruptly. "No," he says. "It's stupid."

"Spidey." You're tired. His presence makes you feel a bit drunk—it's impossible to be sleepy when he's around. "Spit it out."

He shakes his head again.

"I won't laugh," you promise. "Pinky promise."

You lift your pinky.

He smiles, and hides it on your duvet.

His right-hand reaches on top of your blankets and he links his pinky with yours. He says: "Is it stupid that sometimes I wished we could just... hang out?" He asks. He sighs deeply. "I had a really, really shitty day today. Not even because of—crime, or whatever. It was just not my day," he shrugs his shoulders. "I kinda wanted to just with you for a bit and, I don't know, watch something. But I can't—How stupid would I look with some hoodie and sweatpants on and this mask?" He laughs at himself.

Nothing of what he said sounds stupid to you. You frown, then unlink your pinkies so you can slap him in the most playful and non-violent way you can think of. "I told you to stop talking about yourself like that." Whenever he did, it hurt you almost more than his cuts and bruises. You nod with your chin towards your wardrobe. "There's a hoodie or two in there that could fit you. Your lucky I've got brothers with the memory of fishes, though, 'cause it'd be between you and god to get into one of my pants."

"So, me lying in bed with you, moping my ass off, in sweats and mask... that won't be strange?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little?" He's got his chin propped up on the edge of your bed and the bug eyes along with that smile should be a polaroid itself.

"No," you chuckle at his disbelief. "Spidey, what's the difference between your mask and the random character avatars I see daily in my online friend's pages?" You snort and pet the spot on the bed next to you. "Just get your bug ass in here, man. I thought we were past these dilemmas."

Spider nods, chuckles to himself, and gets up from the floor, walking to your wardrobe. "Thanks," he says. His voice comes out low and rough, and you thank the sleepiness in your body for the lack of response from your heart.

"No problem." While he changes out of the suit, you re-organize the bed as a way to quiet your nervousness, making way for Spider to lay by your side.

When he comes out from the wardrobe, you see him in the black sweatpants and your Marge grey sweater. On you, it's a dress for cozy autumn nights, while on Spider, it fits just right. Not too baggy, not too lose.

The mask is a bit of a funny sight, but you've grown so used to seeing only half of his face that the mirth passes in a second.

He plops his body next to yours, and then a groan comes out. He forgot about how sore his shoulder must still be.

"Still hurts?" You confirm.

He's lying a few inches away from you. His thigh is so close to yours you can feel its warmth, and his shoulders are so big that when he leans against the headboard with you, they brush.

"Yeah," he nods. "I don't heal that fast."

"I wouldn't know," you chuckle. "Your healing factor is insane to me. For anyone, you realize that, right?"

"I guess. I don't think much about it."

His strength, speed, and other enhancements are things you try thinking about the least because the shudder that runs through your body anytime one of those thoughts slips through your crafted locks is not something to joke with.

"Superheros," you mutter with sass. "You wanna watch mindless TV or d'you wanna talk?"

Spider looks from the screen propper on your legs to you.

"Mindless TV, please," he nods.

"Alright."

You press play on My Octopus Teacher, and every wire in your brain fries for a moment when you feel him snuggling underneath the blankets, getting closer to you. As an instinct, you snuggle closer too, and you two end up with your sides pressed against each other.

It's warm.

It makes your heart settle.

Sitting side by side with Spider like this is... new. Even though your best efforts are to always keep in mind this friendship has its guidelines, sometimes the wandering thoughts are impossible to stop.

What's it like hanging out with him when he's taking pictures of the things he likes registering?

Is he good in the kitchen? Does Spider have dinner dates with his friends too?

Questions. All the questions you don't get an answer to.

Not if your friend is Spider.

You've made peace with it.

What you never had time to process, though, is how his skin makes yours respond.

It happened a few times by now. The times when you're cleaning a wound too close to his face, or he has to remove the upper part of his suit—the sharp intakes of breath when your palm brushes his skin a certain way; the way his muscles tense underneath your hold when you have to grab him, apply pressure to his wounds.

You know he notices you too. Your mind reels with the possibilities, and the voices in your head fight against any of the scenarios where his reactions come from the same place as yours.

Embarrassing. That's what it is, feeling that way over a man who trusts you as a friend and who probably has a girlfriend he never mentioned—what are the chances he'd want you, too?

This is Spider-Man.

There's no way he's not interested in anyone—he's a college guy. There's no way in hell whoever he wants doesn't want him back.

Spider pulls you from the depths in your head with a whisper close to your ear. "This dude was definitely a mermaid in another life."

You hope your laughter masks any other sounds. "I think we can call him a mermaid now. That breath control is crazy."

Spider nods at that, and then his body slides down lower in your bed until his head fits on the crook of your neck.

By the time the movie's over, you've been swallowed by the heat radiating from his body and the calmness that his presence brings you.

He's in silence, but you know he's awake. The clock reads past four in the morning, but you've reached the point where it seems your body's restarting all over again. "We can talk if you want," you offer in a whisper.

"I don't wanna burden you," he replies immediately.

You sigh.

"Damn." This man. "Am I just, like, your resident nurse, dude?"

His head snaps up from your shoulder, "What?! No."

"Then why would you burden me?" When you will get it? When you accept that I'm here for you? "Spidey. We are friends, aren't we?"

He exhales, and his shoulders deflate when he sees what he's doing again. When he speaks, it's a low mutter. "I'm doing it again," he states.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry—I'm trying," I'm trying not to push you away. You two have had this talk before. It's in moments like these that you remember how close six months of a lot of patching up and random, yet at times deep talks can do to two people. "Of course we're friends, Y/n."

"Good." You scooch a little closer so your bodies are fitting together again, suddenly missing his touch. "So. If you want to talk, you can."

He takes a moment, then gives you a sharp nod. "Alright. You're ready to hear about the tales of a very shitty day?"

"Yes."

"You can totally laugh, by the way—now that it's almost over I can see the universe just took the day to take the piss, so. It's fine. I won't be mad." Spider sits up straighter and the movement makes your body slide down a bit; he gets both of your legs and places them on top of his thighs. You giggle, your hands tingling with the proximity. "Alright. Picture this: I woke up. First thing I see when I come out of my room is Harry's naked ass and his hook up of last night sitting on the kitchen counter where we eat..."

It starts funny, it gets sad, then a little unbelievable. If it were anyone else other than Spider-Freaking-Man sitting by your side, you'd have to call the mental hospital for check-in without a doubt, but this is him. His life isn't easy, or normal, and fairness seems to run low on whoever wrote his life outline.

You do laugh at some points. In others, you hold his hand.

Spider had a day. One of those days where it simply isn't your day.

When he says, "...Yeah. So now—I don't know," with a shrug. "I'll have to find out if I can get some help on this one. Maybe that Daredevil guy. Or someone else. I think—No, I need help. I really do," he ends with a sigh.

Your heart's squeezed tight inside your chest.

"That sucks," you whisper.

"Yeah," he gives you a sad smile.

"Hug?" You offer, opening your arms.

His smile grows to a more real one. "Please."

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, and you make sure to fit your chests together properly so you can squeeze him. Hug him tight, and pass him as much of your comfort as you can.

In two heartbeats, Spider melts inside your arms.

His whole upper body mellows like someone pressed the right button. He nuzzles his nose on the same place his head was lying on a few minutes ago.

Spider squeezes you back, and all you can think about how lucky you are to have him.

You wish you could card your fingers through his hair, but since you can't, you bring your palm to the nape of his neck. You squeeze your fingers around it—you want to bring him the peace he brings you, but instead, what happens is the last thing you expected.

He shivers.

At the first caress of your fingers at the base of his neck, a shiver that starts on his head and electrocutes his whole body is felt.

With your bodies this up close, there's nothing you two could hide from each other.

The spike on your heartbeat—he'd hear it, but this time, he feels it.

The heat on the bottom half of his cheeks—you might see it due to the proximity, but you feel it.

Your heart's thumping like it's about to take off.

Your throat runs dry, and—is he shaking? Oh, god, he's shaking.

It's Spidey who breaks the silence. "I—It feels like you're about to have a heart attack," it's an awed, low whisper. Anything louder than that would feel wrong in the bubble that's created around you two.

The energy vibrating between your bodies must have its own gravitation pull.

You wanna say, Yeah, your lips make me feel like that, but Spidey's still nestled on your neck and you can still think. "I..." I'm getting wet. His lips are too close to your neck, and his hand on your lower back is squeezing around your pijamas.

Mortification seizes your body as the next question comes to mind:

Can he smell you too?

Spidey must mistake the tense-up of your body for discomfort because he starts pulling away. "I'm making you uncomfortable, right? I'm sorry, I—"

He's taken his head off your shoulder and pulled only a few inches when you grab him by the arm, fingers gripping on his—yours sweater.

"No, don't. You're not—I'm sorry—I'm the one being weird," you make me feel so good, why do you make me feel so good? You swallow down the knot that crawls up, that stupid need to cry that arises every time your embarrassment gets too much. "I'm just paranoid sometimes. About how much you sense. Don't mind me," you shrug.

"What I can sense?" He echoes, shrugging. He shouldn't have pulled away.

Now his faces are inches away from yours.

You're thinking of an excuse when his smile starts dropping, fading away.

Your hands are still on his biceps, so you feel when his body tenses.

The sirens in your head turn on, every single one of them.

Oh, he can definitely smell you. If he hadn't caught on before, your stupid, loud mouth just gave you away.

"Oh, god. Y/n," he huffs in a breathless whisper.

"I'm sorr—," you start, but he cuts you off.

Well, his lips do.

Spider's head leans in quick, and in one blink, you feel his chapped, dry lips pressing against yours.

Everything comes to a standstill.

The white noise in your head goes away when he pulls back a few inches. You two have a moment, simply staring at each other. Then, the next words out of his mouth make any thought disappear from your head. "You really want this? Me?"

You lick your lips, getting a taste of Spider and everything you denied yourself so far.

"I really want you," you confess.

Spider lets out a shaky breath. "Good." He nods. The hand on your waist holds on tighter, and he pulls you closer. "I haven't wanted anything this bad in a long, long time."

When he kisses you again, you can feel that.

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• PART TWO •

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 months

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I AM TWO

Summary: The man who had made it said it was loved. He lied, but that didn't mean it didn't want it to be true...

[Very quick drabble before bed, because today's OC lore infodump has cracked open the bottled on so many thoughts regarding Ni Cuy' T'ad's sense of identity, self-worth, grief at being forced into a wretched existence and yearning for affection]

---

The first time it opens its eyes, it's told that it is something precious. A someone. A brother. Wanted and cherished. So very loved that it was brought back from the very brink of oblivion.

The man who tells it this wears a pale gray coverall suit that is saturated in blood. His eyes full of a desperate kind of madness that causes him to grin from ear to ear, while exhaustion and giddiness partly cause his incessant quaking. There is love in those dark eyes of his, but no true direction. He is lost.

It doesn't think him a liar, but it doesn't entirely believe his words. They're far too kind, too personal, to be for it. Bare too much familial significance to be aimed at a wretched creature that only just came into being. But it doesn't deny him the solace his own lies brings him.

It feels like if it does, he might collapse in on himself. And it doesn't want to be alone. Choses to be kind, even if ultimately it is for partially selfish reasons.

It doesn't keep track of time. Has no innate sense to do so, because the days on Tantiss are all the same. As are the people and sights, to the point where it all blurs together into one giant smear of mind-numbing monotony. Trying to make sense of anything just made its head hurt, so it prefers it that way anyway.

It's easier to just stagnate and hide in the comfort of the known, rather than dwell on the unknown.

But one day someone new comes along and suddenly it and the man who'd made it are free. And oh how the man cries and cries. Won't stop crying. Screams and thrashed and practically howls in anguish as he's dragged kicking and screaming into freedom.

It doesn't understand why he is so upset, but it hugs him until its made to let go. Relegated over to others who cry just as hard when they see it for the first time. It wants to cry too, and maybe throw up, although it is not sure why seeing them makes it feel so sick.

It understands later, after two of them call it Conch, and the other calls it Syrup. Those are not its names. They never were. But alas, it came to understand very early on that it was made of spare parts.

Machinery and flesh. Brother and not.

It thinks the one who took the man who made it didn't mean to be so cruel as to leave it with the people that loved the original owners of its components. Maybe he thought he was being kind. It still hates him for it. Hates Fox for his misguided attempt at finding it a home, and its caretakes some kind of closure.

Because Tongue Twister had been wrong.

It was not precious. It was not a someone. It was not a brother. It wasn't even wanted or cherished or even loved. It was just a product of madness and exploitation. A terrible reminder of something it would never be.

And it wished Geoduck, Crayfish and Pox could see far enough past their grief to see how much they were hurting it. Because even tough it was not loved the way they clearly loved Conch or Syrup, it wanted to be.

It wanted to be their vod just as much as they had been. Was that too much to ask?

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #clone ocs #Clone Amalgam Ni Cuy' T'ad #scuba trooper conch #clone trooper syrup

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bookish-bogwitch · 10 months

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Hi.

I haven’t really used this blog much for personal, non-fandom stuff, but thought I’d share an update. CW: mental health and depression.

This past winter I hit the rock bottom what was, in hindsight, a major depressive episode that I’d been experiencing for years. I had no energy, no ability to connect wanting to do something with actually doing it. I was crying all the time and hating myself.

I had a job that I’d once loved—public defense—but that after twelve years had taken its toll. The traumas had started outweighing the triumphs. Between that, and becoming a caretaker for a disabled family member, and random brain chemistry, I’d been on a mostly downward spiral since before the pandemic started.

If I came across as upbeat, it’s because fandom was the one place I could still tap into playfulness and joy. I’d crack myself up online while walking around with a flat affect. There’s nothing wrong with using a hobby to cheer yourself up, but it was such a sharp contrast.

And then there was the doomscrolling. It’s just bad for my brain. The pornbot boondoggle drove this home because I was spending hours a day on here and feeling proportionately crazed. (Note to past self: yes you’re very clever, here’s a pat on the head, but two days of pornbots would’ve been just as funny as twelve.) By the time it ended I was falling apart. Something had to give. I changed my Tumblr password to a random key smash and logged out.

But fandom isn’t bad for mental health just because social media is. I am doing so, so, so much better now, and I credit a lot of it to this fandom. Quitting public defense was scary because my whole identity was bound up in being a public defender--but now I know I’m also a writer. My closest friends had previously been my work friends, and I didn’t know if those relationships would survive if I left--but I knew my fandom friendships would.

Fandom also helped more directly too, by connecting me with friends who all but literally held my hand while I cried and looked for a therapist. Who shared their experiences of depression and recovery and antidepressants. Who cheered on my job hunt, which I couldn’t share with IRL friends until I was ready to give notice. You guys know who you are and I love you.

(Also, shoutout the CO trilogy itself and especially AWTWB for convincing me that it's okay to feel overwhelmed. It would be too much for anyone.)

Between quitting my old job and starting an antidepressant, it’s felt like flipping a switch. I have energy that I thought I'd just lost as part of the aging process. The new job is occasionally interesting, never dramatic, and completely harmless. It feels vaguely useful but never essential. It feels getting forklift certified after being at war. I love it.

Anyhoo. I’ve been putting off coming back on Tumblr. Even though I’ve had countless genuine, loving interactions on here, I really don’t know if I can have a healthy relationship with the hellsite. I’m writing again and want to share my stuff and cheer you on, but moderation is not my strength. Maybe I’ll try some WIP tagging to see if that feels possible to do occasionally and not obsessively.

Social media is the worst, but you are the best. I’m bbbogwitch on discord—reach out any time. Especially if you’re struggling with depression or helping-profession burnout or caretaker blues. You’re not alone.

#personal #non-fandom #update #mental health #depression #burnout #public defense #seriously i am doing great now #love you guys

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marjorierose · 4 months

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I vaguely hoped to write a wrap-up post about finishing Les Mis, because it was such a meaningful through-line for the last year, but I don't know that I have a coherent or conclusive set of thoughts about it. Participants in the read-along have spilled hundreds of words on individual chapters; what can I possibly say about the whole book? And anyway I don't know how to write truthfully about the year of reading as it was embedded in the year of life that I had, which was sad and difficult and transformed a lot of my relationships and general sense of what it means to be a person. When conversations faltered, I changed the subject to what was happening in Les Mis. Some days I felt lost and carried the book around in shameless hope that somebody would validate me by being impressed. Marius failed to reach his father before he died; hours after I read that chapter, my brother and I rushed to our mother's side, after months of caretaking, to hold her hand while she passed. How do I keep writing this entry after that sentence?--but after that day, I kept reading. I had never done something quite like this before. School reading never took this long; leisure reading was never this scheduled and committed. The closest thing to it is when I read all of A Dance to the Music of Time, which I also did in a year of change; books do furnish a room, and they also keep you company across countries, and across ruptures of identity and purpose.

The experience of reading it has also been very affected by rereading Moby-Dick, slowly, at the same time. Les Mis Letters was daily and unfamiliar; I was constantly aware of whether I was caught up or falling behind; and since I read it in French, a language in which I've done relatively little literary reading, even short chapters required a certain alertness on my part, and a certain comfort with uncertainty. Whale Weekly is occasional and slow--the book is less than half as long as LM and we're taking more than twice as long to read it, and of course it's in English. I'm much more familiar with Moby-Dick, since it was one of the cornerstone texts of my education; it was easier than LM, and having it in that position has changed my relationship to it, even as the language and characters and structure of LM became more familiar over time. It's changed my relationship to my reading life.

All of this has, I think, coaxed me out of the reflexive tendency to reach for books that are comfortable or obvious. I want to keep stretching and chew on texts that pose a challenge. I want to read more fiction from literary traditions I'm not familiar with. I want to read more in French, and I want to read more in translation from other languages. I'm excited to work all of those muscles more regularly. For years I just didn't have time for any of that, and now I've gotten some practice actively claiming the time, just because I had a schedule I was trying to stick to. I want to keep it up.

#I also fell behind #I started late and I fell behind a ton #that's obvious if you saw my monthly progress posts since I was often behind #I don't want to make it sound like I kept perfect faith with the daily schedule #but I always caught up again #this is the kind of thing you can mess up a million times without ruining the project #marjorie prose #les misérables

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rainbowcarousels · 9 months

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I want to do something longer about this but one of the things I really enjoy doing with a modern Nicki is to make him something of antithesis of what you consider a Ricean vampre to be. I think it puts him into a more interesting contrast with the others, especially Louis, Lestat and Armand as the original vampires in the series.

Louis is gentleman death, kills indiscriminently but will lose himself to his books, is not overly concerned about his appearance (although Armand and Lestat do seem to make sure he's dressed well), he's generally neat and quiet and dignified by comparison to the more boisterous Lestat who more embodies what I think of when I think fo Ricean vampires. He's clean cut but mischievious, wild and challenging but deep and meaningful, he's the mess of contradictions - they all are really. Armand is also someone who reinvents himself for his eras, his era identity shapes around his personal identity but he is a tech nerd, he does love the arts, he likes to feel safe and he is by nature a caretaker. He knows the rules of vampirism and largely sticks to them.

So Nicolas (at least the way I'm doing him) is a contrast to that. I don't think he leans into the regality that attracts Lestat or Armand or feels a lack of care about his general appearance like Louis but rather leans into that 80's and 90's post-punk and goth subcultures. It's about looking distressed but in a way that is expressive of that darkness that tends to plague him. Leans heavily into 'everything is fucked so might as well look pretty' mixed with 'making something flawed makes it better because purity is that most heinous of sins, it's boring'.

I also think he tends to break taboo's around the vampire experience. They are by and largely neat eaters, after all, blood is sacred. I think neither are true with him, blood is something played with so he probably is the type to use his his nails and his teeth, run his fingers along it and lick them like he's just had ribs because it's grotesque and Not Done and that is something he loves to do.

I think he makes a point never to lie about who he is or what he is but given the era and how he looks, I think that's just accepted as part of his social identity.

I think he prefers to get lost in big cities, in raw art and performances much as Armand did but the more extreme, the better. (I bet he loves the half a cow) I think the main reason he hasn't been caught when it comes to bodies is because he tends to mutilate and stain the ground so it ends to look more like there's a serial killer on the loose. He probably loves the idea he has serial killer lore about himself.

I think ultimately he is a very messy sort of vampire, but he's not stupid. Just obsessive and driven to create, likely feasting on the very artists he likes because consuming them is an ultimate act but also sometimes just because he's left it too late and he Needs To Eat or because they look a little too much like a certain someone he doesn't really try thinking about.

Ultimately, this just makes him really fun and is part of the reason I do want to continue the Nicki Lives series when I've got some time.

Vamptember, maybe?

#rainbow rambles #this is just me talking into the void about my characterisation decisions #nicolas de lenfent #nicki lives au #to add later: armand's ferocity also gets echoed in nicki which is why they're a fun twisted ship

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wanou-dorm · 1 year

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HSA- Raimei Inabaikari

(picrews are Temporary)

Name: Raimei Inabaikari-Ibuki

Twisted from: Volt (Tales of)

Name origin:

Raimei - thunderclap

Inabaikari - flash of lightning

Age: 17/18

Species Oni

Birthday : 5/8

Hair color- Purple

Eye color- Gold

Height- 6’3( Disguse) , 9’5( true)

————

Dorm: Talerena

School year: 1st

Class:1-E

Sexuality- polyamorus, Bisexual

Best Class :Elemental Magic/Movement

Worst Class: mathematics

Club:Music Club/Movie club

Favorite Food : Toasted Marshmallow Milkshakes

Least Favorite Food: Lamb anything (please stop Trying to Make him Eat it,it’s so Gamey )

Likes: Making up stories , making up Songs, Cooking , Running , Fighting

Dislikes: Making Aiden Feel worse , Standing still , Trixie,” If Twist Sheena is made .. F you for no reason . “

Talents : Making Up Songs on the Spot , Making up stories on the spot , Herding Sheep(they follow him anyways) , cooking

Unique Magic:

Electrical Impluse - It Allows him to Basically Teleport around short distances

Personailty and Background

Raimei is the Long lost Brother of Shu, Shu thought he was abandoned by his the rest Siblings but it turns out all the eggs were stolen by the Yakuza.

Apparently Because Raimei hatched while on route. The Yakuza member Who took him couldn’t bare To see him used as basically a Tool so they hid him and Claimed him as their own son , soon after Quit , Moved to another part of Onigashima,Changed their Identity completely to take care of him.

Soon enough he started to Develop Outstanding Electric Magic but problems was Raimei had a Hard time Controlling them and would often Short circuit appliances and Shock people and it often when Wild when under Distress. Cause him and His Caretaker to be Ostracized .

Raimei Tried to contain his Power but he was much to young so They Opted to Cover his Horns and Hands in rubber this worked. Until his tween aged years when his body ‘s Power Spiked causing Raimei to be Shunned and Harassed again . Raimei Resigned So Someone who Used to work for …a Certain Doctor who worked in Children of Darkness, decided to test out a Surgery based on his Research to Use on a more Pressing problem People with large amounts Elemental Magic ,

So Raimei considered nwhat I’m calling a Sprinx a person who has ab High aptitude for Certain Elemental Magic but has trouble controlling them though Sprinx , and The Surgery is much more Successful than and has way less side effects than The Children Of Darkness. Most of the Test were a Success in the long run ( Even if it was just to spite Dr. Oneton ).

Raimei himself is Much More Gutsy Than Shu likely to Rush into Things but Is quicker to admit that he can’t take on some one in a Fight .Where as Shu is very Stubborn. Raimei is Very Energetic and often seen in motion he can not stand still and sometimes just Teleports Shorts distances Randomly.

He is easily Excitable but also Just as Easy to Change from excitable to irritate before you can blink. He’s Rather Snarky and Likes to tease but is a Very good natured ,Hardwork and Dutiful but also just Plain Fun to be around

Triva:

All of Shu’s know Siblings follow the Chinese zodiac with Shu being the Dragon, Raimei is the Sheep

His Horns are based on Mega Ampharos will have Electricity run ,between when he emotes

Trixie (@twsted-princess) wrecked a cake he was making once , He almost Burn her to a Crisp .

He has accidentally roasted people in his Improvised songs … He’s Done it to Aiden several times trying to hype him up .

It’s Unknown if Shu or Raimei know the other is thier brother they probably don’t , it’s likely Someone would point it out

He’s has a Has Habit of Shocking people when Really Excited or Angry think early pikachu from the Anime

Voice Claim: Jyugo (Nanbaka)

youtube

Theme song :

youtube

#twisted oc #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst disney #disney twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #hourglassstationacademy #twst wonderland #twst fanschool #twst fandorm #Youtube

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numberonesnarkfan · 1 year

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writing a DID character, from a DID system

do you ever notice that every character you've ever seen in media with DID has been a disgusting old man in a horror movie that assaults and kills people? You might not have, but we certainly have.

this assertion is honestly laughable. DID is written like psychopathy by directors who've never met a system.

The worst thing any of my alters have ever done is tell a teacher to 'fuck off'. None of my other alters' actions have come even close. That's a far cry from the DID you've seen in movies, isn't it?

the worst part isn't even the fact that this media exists. It's the fact that people (almost exclusively men) will fake-claim people with DID for not being like those movie villains.

One thing a real person said to me once was "I had a friend who had a DID girlfriend, one day she just turned around and stabbed him. If you had DID, you would be in jail". I still highly doubt that that 'friend' wasn't a fictional character, or just a pathological liar.

So, what are DID people like? While I can't talk for OSDD, since I don't know much about that area and don't know if the symptoms are different, I can tell you what being a DID system is really like.

first of all, you have to understand the basics. DID forms exclusively in people with extreme childhood trauma. When you look at a person with DID, you're looking at a person who was once a child and was forced - perhaps physically - to mature faster than all the other kids due to constant trauma at home.

If you've heard of the idea of systems having 'protectors' and 'caretakers', that is true. While not every system has outlined jobs that all of their members fall into, the majority have at least one protector, at least one caretaker, and a league of others that simply exist.

This leads directly into my next point: Alters are people. No matter what redditors will tell you about how you should be bullying people who have disorders that contain 'delusions' as part of their criteria, alters are real people. They have real, separate emotions to the host, and their own identity. I hate the smell of smoke, while some of my alters don't mind it or even like it. I am attracted to men, women and nonbinary people, while some of my alters are only attracted to one gender. Every alter is different.

my system has exclusively fictives. (A fictive is an alter whose source material is fictional, while a factive is an alter who forms from the identity of a real person.) It's perfectly fine to write DID characters with completely unique characters in their system that formed suddenly. Hell, one of my fictives didn't have a form they wanted to be seen as until they looked on google images and decided they wanted to be a dragon.

However, and this is only my opinion, I have always wanted to see media with a DID character who has fictives. Maybe the fictives are in-universe, they have an alter of your fictional universe's equivalent of Hatsune Miku or something, or a character from an in-universe tv show. I have always wanted to see media that normalises fictives.

Furthermore, while people with ADHD or autism are much more likely to develop DID, making a character with DID and autism, but not explaining that they have both, is not a good move.

And now, for the most dreaded part: WHAT MAKES THE EXPERIENCE OF HAVING DID SUCK! I've always said having DID in and of itself isn't the problem. It's everything else:

-the trauma. DID is actually a good thing in and of itself. It helps us survive (as long as we have a good relationship with our alters). It's the trauma that caused it that makes it bad.

-the fake-claiming. Honestly, I've had more trauma in recent years from getting fake-claimed than from almost anything else. I've lost friends because they decided I was "faking". (they googled DID and I didn't show every single symptom, they thought. We were online friends...) People are fucking stupid, and will stop and nothing to feel like the hero. I'd love to see media that highlights the primal rage and sadness that comes with being fake-claimed. I still lie awake at night having intrusive thoughts about the people who fake-claimed me. It hurts more than much else.

-the fake-claiming, part 2. Some people find out that some psychiatrists don't think DID is real, and go on a crusade to tell every system ever that "I can't believe you would just make up a disorder like that", or accuse us of being schizophrenics.

These are pretty much the two things that make life with DID harder than it needs to be. If we lived in a society of people who didn't find the need to white knight for their own ego all the time, it would be different. Nothing makes you realise that the majority of people are unbearable Karens than having DID. Everyone has to give their two cents on your disorder.

and now, THE ACTUAL OUTSIDE APPEARANCE!:

-when an alter fronts, it can sometimes be sudden. Sometimes someone will be talking to us and suddenly get "oh, uhh... I'm Nigel now. Anyway, keep going." It can be awkward, which is why many of us only show ourselves online, mostly on Discord, where bots like pluralkit can help us feel less awkward about our existence.

-cosplaying yourself. Many of my fictives have me buy clothes for them so that they can dress up as themselves. My Nigel alter had me buy a hair curler so he could recreate his natural hair, but we've all been too scared to use it.

-voices! Sometimes, when an alter fronts irl, they will go completely nonverbal, despite how verbose they may be online. Sometimes it's just too much dysphoria to be forced to speak using the AFAB host's voice, especially if the alter is male. This can be reversed too, where a female alter may feel uncomfortable in an AMAB host's body.

-and the dreaded R word... roleplay. Yes, yes, we all know, being a system looks like rp from the outside. We all get told it so much that a lot of systems take extreme offence from having their disorder compared to roleplay, and I don't blame them. But the fact also is, to develop DID, you HAVE to have an active imagination, because it forms from the child escaping into their headspace too much. Many people with DID do roleplay! They play D&D, they online rp. This doesn't make them any less of a system. BUT if you're writing a DID character, unless you have a person with DID to be your editor, you should avoid making them an rp-er, because this may come across as disingenuous or sysphobic. Think of it like how gay men are fully allowed to be flamboyant and feminine, but writing a gay character like that may be in bad taste.

-identity vs. personality. There's a reason DID is no longer called "split personality disorder", and it's because the difference between alters and hosts is more about identity than personality. My alters and I largely have the same worldview and morals, but we all present ourselves differently. I am hyperactive and funny (I hope), while some of my alters would prefer to present as mysterious, or graceful. Sometimes an alter can seem completely different from the host.

-memory loss. Sometimes when an alter stops fronting, I wake up with only vague memories of what happened. Also, long term memory loss. Almost all people with DID have more childhood amnesia than normal and can appear as very forgetful.

-and finally... the dissociation. Yes, DID does also come with dissociation. Sometimes it can be regular dissociation, feeling floaty and nonexistent, and sometimes it can come in the form of feeling dissociative about your own life. Sometimes your memories barely feel real, sometimes the people around you feel like they're only videogame constructs. Sometimes you look down at your hands and realise acutely that there's bones in there.

This is not by any means a comprehensive post, this is mostly just me rambling. Feel free to ask me to cover any more specific parts of having DID.

#dissasociative identity disorder #DID #system #writing #writing advice #mental health #ableism #inclusivity #representation #diversity

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ruminate88 · 7 months

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I’m a lover because I’m a fighter

“I’m a lover because I am a fighter” - This was my mentality. Whenever I met my first narcissist I believed that love conquered all, that love was the reason I was breathing, that love was my every heartbeat, and that I could love beyond what some people could based on how I was raised in this loving Christian positive home. somehow, I loved to a fault, and my kindness got mixed up in translation with narcissistic men. They took my kindness as weakness! In my ability to love, I thought I had to love them no matter what. The first narcissist I met, his name was Jake, and he was very intimidating and controlling towards me. I was not attracted to him, and I felt bad about it, so I worked hard not to hurt his feelings. I did not want a relationship with him, but I did try to be kind and friendly towards him. There was a part of me that wanted him in my life, but I did not want to commit to a relationship with him because I realized he was only going to control me…… Somehow, Jake treated me as, “you say to yourself, you’re a lover because you’re a fighter, do you even mean that??” and made me feel guilty for not wanting to be his girlfriend. That’s insanity!!!

I had loved this guy name Jesse for 10 years and never dreamt I would love anyone else but him. Jake knew this and was consistently jealous and making me feel bad for loving Jesse and even told me why do you love him so much? He’ll never marry you, so you need to get over him …… “ Jake made me feel horrible about myself!! Eventually, Jake exploited my private pictures and he mortified me! I didn’t see how I could trust him ever again!!! I made sure I had no contact with Jake at that time. A few months later, some things happen with the Jesse guy and I’m just so crazy about him, thinking he’s my soul mate and then he gets another girlfriend. She was the third girlfriend that I was aware of that he had openly and to me, it looked like possibly they could be serious. I just could tell. 😔 My heart was crushed and it was then that I realized my mental health was not doing so great, but I also did not realize that Jake had caused me a lot of frustration too and sorrow, whenever he exploited my private pictures. I felt vulnerable and like it was hard to trust people after that, even Jesse. I had no choice but to walk away from wanting Jesse because this was his third girlfriend and I finally realized he was never going to choose me. I was 24 at that time and felt that I was wasting away in my 20s.

I felt very lost and without an identity because I had loved Jesse for 10 years, and I had been the family caretaker when I was a teenager. Plus, I was addicted to pornography all of my teenage years I just was so lost and even though I thought I had so much love to give there was times I thought sex was also love and because I wasn’t having sex, I felt like I didn’t have anyone to love me in my life . I wanted “love” so badly…. I just did not feel good enough though. That was when I wrote my first suicide note in January 2013.

Cody contacted me on Twitter just days after I posted the suicide note on Instagram. I guess my Instagram was connected to my Twitter account. Cody asked me “why would I kill myself? he thinks I’m so beautiful and that I deserve to stay, would I talk to him and get to know him?” Upon seeing his profile picture, I was in disbelief that he was real or that he would want to truly talk to me. I thought Cody was gorgeous. The most gorgeous guy I had ever saw!! Truly, a work of art lol!! But I gave Cody a chance and I started chatting with him. The whole time Cody love bombed me, I was in disbelief because I thought he was soooo gorgeous and couldn’t believe he actually thought I was “beautiful” 🥺 I felt so ugly because Jesse never chose me. Cody talked “sex” with me A LOT so in my messed up delusional head, I thought we were soooo in love and he told me he was “obsessed with me”. I was over the moon on cloud nine. It was super intense and I couldn’t eat. I knew something about the whole thing was “too crazy” but I had been so down on myself, Cody made me feel so good about myself. (That didn’t last) In the end of my relationship with Cody, he ghosted me! 😱 I was traumatized by that!!!

Then not even 6 months later I meet Andrew!! Andrew was all over me day one but I can’t remember “day 1”. I can NOT remember how I even met Andrew… I don’t remember our first hello. It’s all a “fog” to me. Just a bunch of smoke but I do remember Andrew being alll over me asking me to marry him every day for days. I was overwhelmed and wasn’t sure I was even attracted to him. He was 7 years younger than me and lived on a farm. I’m not a big animal person and Andrew had several pets!! Andrew couldn’t get his foot in the door with me because I was traumatized by Cody, I wouldn’t just let Andrew in day 1. I didn’t respond to his “will you marry me” probably the way he hoped… So, Andrew bread crumbed me for a whole summer. First he FaceTimed me and his eyes were sparkling!!!! I never saw that before in anyone!! (It tripped me up and caught me off guard. I started to think he’s actually super attractive) He would flirt with me and be super sexy but never ask me out. In the end of that summer, I ended up chasing him and before the year 2014 was up, I was totally obsessed with him!! Then in 2015, Andrew love bombed me and I thought he was the sexiest guy on the planet! I thought his “sexy talk” was everything to me. I worshiped this guy and he consumed my every waking thought. I believe Andrew put a love spell on me because why was I suddenly so obsessed with him, when upon first meeting him, wasn’t even sure if I found him attractive?? Suddenly I thought Andrew was even more gorgeous than Cody and I worshipped his whole body in an unhealthy way. He would send me nudes all the time and I would just brag on him and tell him how “desperate I was to be with him.” He knew what he was doing... He didn’t love me though or care about breaking my heart. He only wanted me to praise him and be obsessed with him!! He bragged on my body too often but not the way I bragged on him. Even after we broke up, he still hit on me and acted as if he was attracted to me still and it was so confusing!! 😩

I started out believing “I’m a lover because I’m a fighter” but after all the narcissist in my life, I was so cold and barely holding on. I felt every day I was drowning and I had to learn how to swim through the waves of depression! I hated myself and resented my own life and anyone in it. I had suicide attacks, panic attacks and anxiety attacks after I broke up with Andrew. I would hear and see things in the house. I didn’t wanna be alone because I was scared!!! Yet, I was so obsessed with Andrew, I struggled to break away from him for months I kept texting him but eventually stopped when I realize he would never care about me as more than his sex toy. 😭 I never broke away mentally though… why? It’s been so many years later and I still want to fantasize about him when I constantly remind myself what a horrible guy he is and all he put me through! (I have had no contact with him since he tried to get back into my life in 2016)

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magpiejay1234 · 3 months

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Jacob rewatch also made finally get the whole Ansem SoD/Subject X.

Superficially, this is supposed to give some pathos to Ansem SoD, and set up a red herring that he, like Xemnas, might betray Master Xehanort. He doesn't, obviously, but those red herrings were probably intended go on for longer.

The actual events state that Ansem SoD is seeking Subject X is seeking memories about War of the Foretellers, which strongly implies she is Skuld, since other Dandelions only became important after the War, and player character already reincarnated as Xehanort's caretaker (though that is a later retcon of course).

Ansem SoD suggests Ansem DiZ already probed her memories, and found those suppressed memories to further his research (we know he did search her memories, but didn't find much, and there isn't much that indicates Apprentice Xehanort did either).

However, in KH2, at least in the Final Mix version (not sure about other versions), Ultima Weapon's recipe is in Ansem's Mansion, and we already discussed how later games, including KH3, imply Ultima Weapon was an earlier attempt to remake x-blade, at least to create a light-exclusive version of it (with No Name presumably being a dark elemental means to copy x-blade).

My assumption was that Ansem DiZ figured this during his research after CoM, but SoD implies this might have started during the human experimentation period. So DiZ might have unearthed an old recipe (presumably used by MoM), and extrapolated the remaining parts.

The problem I have with this, despite being implied to be case way back when, it puts way too much emphasis on Keyblades once more, even though we more or less know they won't matter that much after the MoM arc, and DiZ's experiments were about hearts (and by proxy, body & soul), not magical artifacts (since apprentices already had their own magical weapons to defeat, and pacify Heartless for more experiments).

****

Another problem with this, is that back in Days it was implied that Saix, and Axel became apprentices basically the day before Xehanort betrayed DiZ (basically confirmed to be the case in KH3), but not for Subject X specifically, rather all the other human experimentations. X was just their way of learning something was wrong, but obviously back in the Days' backstory their lost their hearts, and eventually their purpose.

However, with the Saix-Lea scene, KH3 seems to imply Axel only bonded with Xion as a replacement of Subject X who is presumably Skuld, because she looked superficially like her, much like how Roxas looked like Ven (despite their divergent character progression, which is another can of worms).

In addition to wimping DiZ's past crimes, this also makes me suspect that Sora, and possibly Riku, will also be retconned to being Ephemer, and one of Skuld's sister's descendants, and Xion's black hair was just some sort of recessive trait Sora had.

****

I guess I should also talk about how in BBS Volume 2 trailer, HPO sequence was supposed to have Kairi in it, and they were supposed to search Ansem DiZ's yet uncovered secrets (presumably his knowledge of Ultima Weapon, and its relation to x-blade would have been part of it).

Nonetheless, since Kairi is stuck with Lea in KH3 at this point, having him, and SoD talk about Subject X would be both excessive, and remove a lot of the red herrings about her identity.

Similar situation with Nameless Star, and MoM's name reveal I guess, though compared to what people believe, since Sora means nothingness/emptiness/sky, and is a decently non-rare name, MoM telling his name is Sora to Xehanort without the face reveal is as useless as him telling his name is Skylar Void (Dark Road made a recurring joke about this apparently, with Xehanort assuming the Xehanort people talking about is a different guy).

#keyache #shitposting

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blackrosesandwhump · 3 years

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Whump Prompts Collection

Tag me if any of these inspire you! I'd love to read the result. :)

Asphyxia/suffocation:

Whumpee joins an exploration mission that’s being sent into a place where the air is toxic, so he has to wear some kind of breathing gear; the environment and discomfort cause him to lose his mind and rip the gear off, exposing him to the toxic air and damaging the equipment. The others on the mission have to make an awful decision on who to save.

Denied air, then forced to exercise: muzzle your whumpee or otherwise reduce their breathing ability, then force them to exert themselves. For example, whumper could tape whumpee’s mouth shut, then make them run laps until they pass out. Or force them to wear something that reduces their oxygen intake, then do rigorous chores. Imagine a whumpee on their knees, scrubbing the floor as they struggle to breathe, then passing out on the damp floor amid the cleaning supplies. Such a pretty sight for the whumper to behold…

An airless chamber: whumper has a specialized room that’s been sealed to be airtight, perfect for particularly stubborn whumpees, or even just whumpees that are fun to torture. A couple of minutes in that room, and they emerge weak, gasping, willing to submit just so they don’t have to suffer the horror of suffocation again. And then there’s that one whumpee, the one that won’t break no matter how many times they’re shut in that room. Because it’s not what happens to them that will destroy them, but what happens to the people they love…

Claustrophobia:

Whumpee is tossed into a coffin with their crossed arms bound to their chest and their ankles fastened together, then left there for hours in silence. Claustrophobia sets in and whumpee panics and cries out.

Whumpee is confined to a tiny closet and forgotten while whumper is attacked. Whumpee is discovered by the attackers much much later, completely traumatized.

A is injured and needs to have a brain scan. They start to panic at the idea of being enclosed in such a tight space. The only person who can help calm them down is B, and B is not allowed in the room for whatever reason. Then A sees B through the glass and B’s smile and thumbs-up is enough to help them feel better.

Whumpee is forced to wear an iron mask as punishment. The mask can only be unlocked and removed by someone else, so they’re stuck for an entire day (or however long) unable to speak around the bit in their mouth and also short of breath.

Whumper knows about whumpee’s dislike of anything touching his face and forces whumpee to wear a mask that completely hides his face whenever he’s in whumper’s presence. Eventually the mask becomes part of whumpee’s identity.

Curses/magic:

Hero is given the gift of a scarf. What he doesn’t know is that it’s actually a gift from the Villain. He also doesn’t know it’s been cursed and will strangle him when the time comes. It won’t kill him, though—it will keep him just alive enough for Villain to interrogate him.

Hero is chained up in a dungeon. His chains are cursed so that every struggle causes more chains to coil around him. Villain enters the dungeon to find him completely wrapped in chains: around his neck, across his mouth, restricting his chest. Villain is amused and decides to leave Hero like that for a while longer.

Hero’s weapon is cursed so that every use weakens him for a period of time. The more he uses it, the more it weakens him each time and the harder it is for him to recover. Eventually his body begins to fail from how much he’s wielded it, but he won’t rest because he’s too fixated on using his weapon to its fullest potential.

Miscellaneous:

Whumper knows that whumpee is deathly afraid of buzzing insects, so he slathers whumpee in something sticky and sweet and ties him up so he can’t wipe it off. Then he leaves whumpee outside to be tormented by insects until he’s hoarse from screaming.

Whumper ties whumpee up, but not too painfully and not to torture them; no, this time whumper is going to draw all over whumpee’s skin, to let them know who they belong to now. They’ll be whumper’s canvas, whether they like it or not.

Whumper is given a drug that induces hallucinations and is bound to a chair and left in an empty room for hours…whumper returns to find whumpee bloodied from straining to escape and delirious with fear.

Whumper knows that the rescuers are on their way, so he slices whumpee up just enough to cause him lots of pain, then rolls him up in a rug and dumps him in a corner where the rescuers won’t think to look. Whumpee’s only hope is to make enough noise that they investigate.

Alternately, whumper binds whumpee up and gags him so he can’t move or cry out, then tosses him in a corner as above, so that whumpee can only listen as his rescuers pass by without even knowing he’s right there.

Whumpee has been kept underground for as long as he can remember. He’s never seen sunlight, only fire. The earthquake nearly kills him, but he manages to survive. The sunlight on the surface sends searing pain through his entire body, starting with his eyes. He’s blinded, crippled with agony from the overwhelming light. A human voice breaks through the pain: “We finally found you. Welcome to the surface, whumpee!”

Non-human whumpees:

A fae whumpee is exposed to rain that’s been tainted with iron from an iron factory. The water burns his skin like acid. The whumpee has his chemical burns covered with bandages, but the bandages can’t take away the pain…

Sunlight equals torture. Whumpee knows this all too well. After all, he’s a vampire. But whumper has tied him up in a place where the sunlight is intermittent. Every few minutes, the torture stops and his skin can heal a little…but then the sunlight hits him again, and it’s excruciating.

Whumpee squirms as the sun blazes down on them, panicking because they’ll suffocate as soon as the water in the fountain dries up. They need water to breathe. All merfolk do. But whumpee is chained up and can’t escape. Whumper laughs as whumpee tries to get free. “My little fish out of water. I’ll let you go…as soon as you let me harvest your scales.”

Aerosolized poison for inhuman creatures: poison your whumpees with aerosolized versions of the substances that most afflict them. For example, whumper (maybe a hunter in this case) traps the werewolf whumpee in a chamber rigged with canisters of aerosolized wolfsbane. Or whumper could poison a fae whumpee with an iron-based gas. (Not sure how that would work. Just thinking on the spot here.) Imagine the inhuman whumpee trying to survive by wearing breathing protection, then having it ripped off when whumper attacks them.

Weather/environment:

One of whumpee’s regular tasks is to take care of the garden, which they don’t mind, as it allows them to spend hours outside, away from whumper. They dread rainy days because it means they’re stuck in the house with whumper and can’t escape outside. It’s been storming for days and whumper is in a particularly nasty mood, which means that whumpee is about to suffer even more, and they’re already not in good shape…

Caretaker is desperately searching for whumpee in the rain, but whumpee is nowhere to be found. The rain is getting worse and worse and caretaker is about to give up…but then they spot something in the grass. It’s a leg. No, a whole body. Whumpee’s body. Whumpee is unresponsive, their eyes glazed, their skin ashen. Caretaker sees that they’ve just about drowned from exposure to the downpour, and it might be too late…but caretaker is going to save whumpee, no matter what.

Whumpee is locked up in a tower that’s crumbling into ruin. Whenever it rains, the roof leaks and puddles of water form on the floor. They can’t escape the damp and are left to try to protect themselves with whatever they can find in the tower. After a bad storm, whumper comes to get them, only to find that whumpee has gotten dangerously sick from the cold and wet and needs help. But whumper refuses to call a doctor…

Usually prisoners are kept in the dark. This time, whumpee is kept outside in a wooden cage. Their only relief from the sun comes at night…but night is when whumper lets them out to torture them. And every time whumpee is thrown back in the cage, they can’t escape from the heat and light. A cold cloth on their bruises would be heavenly. But they can only dream about it as they wait for nightfall…

Whumpee is barefoot and lost in a pine forest. Cold and exhausted, they can only stumble forward in the dimming light, feet scratched and bleeding from stepping on countless pine needles. And whumpee has nothing except the shirt on their back to bandage their feet…

While hiking alone, whumpee slips and falls down a small cliff, gashing their side on a sharp rock. Exhausted and bleeding, whumpee can only lie in the gathering darkness and hope someone comes looking for them. To distract themselves, they start reciting all the song lyrics they can remember. As they’re slipping into unconsciousness, they hear a strange echo of the song they’re humming. It’s caretaker, blasting the song as they search for whumpee in the dark.

A thunderstorm hits when whumpee doesn’t expect it, when they’re out on a walk to clear their head and don’t have shelter. Lost in the driving rain and hail, whumpee has no choice but to shelter in the first place they find: an abandoned shed. The next morning, caretaker finds their bruised and soaked body in the one place they hoped whumpee would never find.

#whump prompts #whump ideas #whumpy things #writing prompts #asphyxia tw #suffocation tw #claustrophobia tw #magic whump #non human whump #environmental whump

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redphlox · 3 years

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The Todorokis and the Takamis

Hello hello hello! Okay, so the fan translated chapter of BNHA 299 came out and I’m drowning in a downpour of feelings and parallels. So, below this cut, I’ll discuss parallels between Shouto and Hawks, Hawks and Endeavor, the Todoroki siblings and Keigo, and Rei and Tomie. I’ll also comment on the realistic depiction of domestic abuse survivors and dysfunctional family dynamics within the manga. Thanks in advance for reading!

The only hero Shouto probably had been exposed to as a child because he was isolated was his own dad, who abused his family. Shouto didn't want to be a hero because, as he had experienced personally, heroes were bad people who hurt their loved ones. The fire quirk he inherited from his father was something that hurt others. He had no other frame of reference for the fire quirk; his mother, who was kind and loving, had an ice quirk, Natsuo and Fuyumi had an ice quirk, and Touya (if Shouto even has memories of this) was being hurt by his own fire quirk. No wonder five year old Shouto was fearful of his left side and the thought of becoming a hero.

But that changed when Rei introduced him to All Might via a television recording she showed him in secret. Shouto learned that his father wasn’t representative of all heroes. Not all heroes hurt their families, and this meant Shouto’s fire quirk was his to use for good. He realized his dad was, ironically, a bad hero, and that it was okay to want to be a hero because Shouto would be a good one. Even if Shouto forgot this lesson in the years after Rei was hospitalized, the memory was there and rekindled during the sports festival. Shouto truly does believe in heroes because he’s seen proof of it in All Might, who indirectly saved Shouto and his belief in heroes just by being himself on that television show. Shouto also believes in heroes because he believes in himself - he’s a kind person, and he wants to be a kind hero. That’s why he chose his hero name to be his given name: Shouto.

Hawks, like Shouto, was also isolated from the world. He didn't have any interaction with or exposure to heroes except for on television. His father was physically and mentally abusive, and his mother emotionally distant as a result of domestic abuse. When Endeavor, a hero Hawks had a plushie of because his mom had given it to him in secret, indirectly saved him from an abusive household by arresting his father, Hawks started believing in heroes. They were real, and he was proof people could be saved because he hadn’t even been asking for help and Endeavor did it anyway. The plushie his mom had gotten him to play with as a substitute for not being able to go outside, the one Hawks held onto for comfort when he felt sad and alone, came “alive” and saved him.

But Hawks was still in a bad situation because his mother's mental health wasn't in the best state after years of enduring domestic abuse. Hawks’ mother Tomie learned to view Hawks as the chain between herself and the Thief Takami. She might have been stuck in a "stay together for the kid" situation, coupled with financial instability and, on Takami's part, a begrudging sense of social responsibility to help raise the kid he fathered. Tomie learned to associate Takami’s feathers with pain, and because Hawks has feathers like his father and the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree, she says, “you’re his son, aren’t you?”

But Hawks soon finds good in the world and good in himself when he saves people during that accident. By saving others, he has saved himself without even intending to. The commission essentially takes him away from his mother who, because to her mental instability due to years of abuse, couldn’t raise him or nurture him. After abandoning his name, Hawks held on to Endeavor as a source of inspiration. Hawks had an idol he could look up to and be like as he trained at the commission. Endeavor was an example of how to stay strong and never lose hope. After all, everyone knew it would be pointless to try and surpass All Might but Endeavor kept trying anyway, despite the impossibilities. Young Hawks admired that because he was stuck in a similar situation - he never even dared to hope his life would get better until Endeavor arrested Takami the Thief. So to this day, Hawks idolizes Endeavor the hero.

Hawks, as an outsider to the Todoroki family, doesn’t know what they have endured. He hasn’t been around Shouto much, but from what he has seen, he thinks Shouto admires Endeavor the hero the same way Hawks does. It’s not an incorrect statement, because Shouto does recognize that Endeavor the hero is great, but it’s not a correct statement either. Shouto has the ability to separate Endeavor from Enji. Shouto wants to see what Enji the father has the potential to become now that Enji wants to atone, and even that seems to be for his sister’s sake, for her dream of having a family. Even Endeavor thought the same thing until Shouto makes it clear he’s not forgiven.

But Hawks doesn’t know this. Hawks probably assumes that because Shouto accepted interning with Endeavor and looked at Endeavor in awe that Shouto’s relationship with Endeavor must be on the mend. That maybe the abuse is behind them and the family is healthier. Hawks himself would never reach out to his own father or be near him, so why would Shouto? The only logical explanation and evidence Hawks has is that maybe Endeavor was forgiven and completely different now. Hawks, like Dabi, has no way to know that Shouto is holding his father accountable for abusing Rei and used to burn with self-destructive hatred inside. Hawks has no way of knowing Natsuo’s turmoil or that Fuyumi shares the same feelings as Natsuo, that Endeavor has a long way to go earn a place in his children’s lives - if they even let him.

Hawks is clinging onto his faith in heroes because he still believes in himself, in Endeavor, and in heroes. He’s like Shouto and believes in heroes and Endeavor despite Endeavor’s actions as a father. Shouto knows Endeavor is a skilled hero, but also accepts that people have different roles and may be shitty at one and great at another. Shouto knows Endeavor’s ambition and dedication to a title for his work drove him to hurt his family. Shouto knows Endeavor did this because Endeavor’s entire identity is his hero work - it’s almost expected that he put his ambitions before his family. Endeavor is just now, after 20 years, realizing he has another identity and role he failed to accept: Enji the father and husband. Now that he’s reached his career goals and realized the view at the top wasn’t as great or fulfilling as he imagined, he’s trying to figure out what Enji the father can do for his family.

Just like Endeavor, Hawks’ whole identity is his hero persona, and if that hero doesn’t exist anymore, then Hawks would be lost. He’d have nothing. His whole life’s meaning - saving people - would be gone, and he has no connections to any roles (son, friend, citizen) because he’s severed ties with his parents and isn’t close to anyone. He can’t go back to being Keigo because it was too painful and hopeless being Keigo. Even if the commission is turning his back on him, he’ll still be the hero Hawks, this time on his own terms. Now that he’s free of their control, he wants to help the Endeavor he always looked up to as a sign of loyalty to him and possibly a vague way of returning the favor for indirectly rescuing Keigo all those years ago.

Rei and Tomie

Both mothers reacted similarly to their domestic abuse. Both mothers learned to associate their children with their abuser based on physical inherited traits. The Todoroki siblings each have a trait of their father’s (Touya has his eye color, Fuyumi has her red in her hair, Natsuo has his thick and tall stature, Shouto’s entire left side) and Hawks inherited feathers from his father. This fear serves as a small scaled representation of the societal stigma faced by those who possess lesser favorable quirks. These mothers learned their partner’s quirks were only used to hurt them or cause damage, and society has learned that certain quirks like Toga’s blood-sucking are inherently bad and are an indicator of morality.

Like IRL domestic abuse victims, both mothers felt hopeless and powerless in their situation. Tomie asked her partner to fix the television without investigating what was wrong with it herself first. Tomie couldn’t care for herself or her son after Takami had been arrested - she’d been told what to do for so long and relied on Takami to provide (probably because he was paranoid and possibly wouldn’t let her interact with others out of fear she’d report him to the police) that she had trouble adjusting to any other kind of lifestyle. Making decisions was a skill she hadn’t used in years. Tomie, now homeless, compared Hawks to their abuser and expected him to provide by committing crimes too, which visibly hurt her son’s feelings. Some people who experience abuse subconsciously rely on their children to step up into a sort of caretaker/parent role. This is called parentification, and it just...sort of happens. This is why it makes sense Hawks’ identity revolves around being useful and wanting to help others. He had learned from a young age that if he wasn’t helping people, he had no value.

This isn’t to cast blame or judge Tomie, but to bring awareness to a boundary issue and inadvertent role reversal some victims and their families deal with as a result of abusive households. To parallel Tomie wanting Hawks to provide for the family, Endeavor also passively let Fuyumi to step up and fill the role of her missing parents. She carried a lot of the family emotional burdens after Rei was hospitalized, takes care of the family home, visits and cares for her mother at the hospital, and looks out for her younger brothers wellbeing in every sense of the word. Fuyumi is the unifying, optimistic link between Endeavor and his family. Even Endeavor recognizes Fuyumi’s parentification, though he doesn’t call it by its name.

Rei expressed her hopelessness when she spoke with her mother on the phone about not being able to raise her children anymore, but couldn’t come up with a solution. She couldn’t raise her children anymore - and that was it. She didn’t ask her mother for help or come up with any ideas because she felt powerless. And again, this isn’t to demonize or blame Rei, but to point out that her reaction is reflective of the challenges some abuse victims face. Some people don’t know how to get out of an abusive relationship for various complicated, valid, and life-threatening reasons, no matter what logic outsiders apply to the situation. Some mothers feel trapped, like Rei and Tomie.

Both Rei and Tomie hurt their children, either emotionally or physically. In the light novels, Natsuo reveals that Rei was emotionally distant after Shouto was born, probably out of concern for Endeavor’s likely unhealthy enthusiasm to train Shouto. She was probably protective of Shouto, and inadvertently made Natsuo feel abandoned by focusing on her youngest. Like Keigo, Natsuo felt alone despite his mother being nearby physically. And also like Keigo, Natsuo eventually realized that the situation was complicated and his parents made mistakes and had issues that didn’t reflect their feelings toward him. Natsuo realizes his mother loved him still. He realizes Shouto didn’t have it better than he did because he had his mother’s attention, and Keigo realizes that even with his father gone, his mother isn’t “fixed.” Keigo recognizes that his parents had deep flaws and the Todoroki siblings recognize their parents’ too. Rei didn’t mean to hurt Shouto maliciously; Endeavor is to blame for their mother’s mental state.

It’s implied that Tomie has an alcohol problem from the bottles laying around the unkempt Takami home. She uses alcohol to remove herself from reality, to put distance between herself, those she perceives are hurting her, and to hide. Running away doesn’t necessarily mean that she doesn’t care about her son - emotions and people are complex and not always black and white - but that she doesn’t have the mental and emotional capacity to nurture him. She’s distancing herself from her feelings (probably fear, hopelessness, dread) and with that she’s also distancing from her son. This might have been going on for a while because Keigo doesn’t even consider going to his mother for comfort. He goes to his inanimate Endeavor plushie instead.

It’s also important to note that Keigo realizes that his parents’ relationship is devoid of love, and he probably thinks this is the reaso why he doesn’t receive any love from them. He wasn’t born from a loving relationship. The chapter implies he just...happened because Takami was hiding out with Tomie. Now Tomie doesn’t have an identity or will outside of hiding Takami and helping him, and Takami resents Keigo for tethering him to a person he thinks is useless and is holding him back.

In their own way, both mothers tried to console their child and ease the pain caused by their fathers. Rei did this by listening to Shouto, showing him that good heroes do exist, and reassuring him that he’s not his father. She was a loving mother, as noted by young Natsuo’s jealousy toward Shouto for “taking up” his mother’s attention. Her children are eager and willing to have a relationship with her. Tomie showed love for her son by buying that discounted Endeavor plushie in an effort to make up for the fact that Takami wouldn’t let him play outside. It’s important to note that while their family’s life was seemingly sustained by the fruit of Takami’s crimes, Tomie used what limited money the family had to pay for the toy, meaning that she wanted to ease some of her son’s pain and give him a source of strength. This was all she could manage considering the state of mind she was in. While it wasn’t big, she did the best she could, and apparently it left an impact because Hawks remembers the moment clearly.

The difference between these women and their families, which also mirrors real life, is that some work toward rebuilding their relationships and some don’t. The Todoroki’s support each other, and the Takamis are distant from each other. This isn’t to judge or blame or say one way is wrong and another is right, but to explore how this decision has and will influence Hawks and the Torodokis.

Rei has made progress in her recovery and will likely be discharged soon, if she hasn’t already been. The family continues to identify and work through issues both as a unit and individually. Shouto realizes that it’s okay to use his left side, Natsuo is holding space for his unresolved grief and calling out Endeavor, and Fuyumi is hoping to finally have a family. Together, they’ve found healing from the trauma they suffererd together. Touya being alive only adds to this family’s ability to finally be happy and whole, though the journey may be difficult and painful.

Meanwhile, the Takami’s didn’t unite to heal together. Hawks’ father went to jail, Tomie and Keigo never saw him again and don’t want to, and Tomie accepted the commission’s offer to take care of her financially if she gave up Keigo. Keigo himself became Hawks, who suspected it was his mother who leaked his background to Dabi and wasn’t surprised to find out that he was right. He’s not visibly upset about his mother leaving either, which could either be him being emotionally numb or a sign his relationship with his mother never improved. It seems like he’s holding on to the scrap of love she did give him, as seen by his flashback to her holding his hand and remembering her words to “be strong like this guy.” But now she’s gone, and like he said, his shackles are gone.

So, what does this mean? Is Hawks wrong to still believe in Endeavor? Was Tomie wrong for revealing Hawks to Dabi and then leaving without notifying Hawks first? Given these character’s complex traumas, it’s hard to say without blaming someone for how they react to their trauma. It’s hard to apply logic to thinking and feelings that have been shaped by trauma. It’s uncomfortable to sit and see people make decisions that hurt others. Sometimes there is no right and wrong, sometimes there is wrong right and right wrong, and we have to sit and watch things play out, watch people react to the world through a trauma lens.

Sometimes there’s no answer at all. I think that’s what adds a tragic touch to Hawks, to the Todorokis, to the League - they’re all reacting to their trauma in different ways, some in socially acceptable ways (Natsuo, Shouto) and some not (Dabi), and there’s no clear cut answer without passing judgment or telling someone how to react to their trauma. How does someone rewire their brain’s neuropathways from the ones formed by trauma to healthier ones, especially without professional help or even self-awareness.

It’s hard to watch all these characters suffer, especially when it hits so close to home for some of us. Let’s see what the next chapters bring! We’re not seeing the big picture just yet, and there is always time for epiphanies, breakthroughs, and change of hearts and minds.

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mapleandgingeroatmeal · 3 years

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The Mighty Nein Ranked by How Good They Are With Kids

-For these purposes, "kids" means anyone between ages five and ten.

-Ratings are a combination of Enthusiasm (how much they like/want to be good with kids) and Experience (how well do they know kids/how good at they at wrangling them).

1) Veth: Experience 5/5, Enthusiasm 5/5

This one is obvious. Veth gets bumped to the top just because she's the only one with canonical experience dealing with littles. She raised Luc until he was lets say almost three. Not many years, but the ones she did get are pretty big ones where you learn a lot. Even when it comes to older kids, growing up as a girl in a one-room-schoolhouse kinda town there's no way Veth didn't end up looking after younger kids growing up. She's also got that crucial mothers mindset in that she likes kids and thinks of helping them as part of her identity. When you go into a situation with confidence and ease, kids pick up on that and listen better in response.

2) Yasha: Experience 4/5, Enthusiasm 4/5

Either this or #6 will be my most controversial take, but hear me out: Yasha comes from a communal, matriarchal society where child-rearing would be a group experience and duty. Yasha changed diapers and maybe taught some lessons growing up. Assuming this, she would also have an idea of what kids at a given age may be capable of, which is very important. She's also someone that would enjoy the genuine personalities and antics of kids a lot. Yasha likes soft things, after all. Imagine her at a princess tea-party.

If you want some evidence in canon for this, look at her interactions with Luc in 110. Yasha is awkward with most people, but she immediately sweeps Luc onto her shoulders. This is a ballsy move that speaks to confidence and also experience. She knows how to hold him well enough to get him up there smoothly, and she does it with so little hesitation that it seems like something she's done before.

3) Fjord: Experience 4/5, Enthusiasm 2/5

Premise One: Fjord is a pack-oriented dude. He focuses on survival, but once you're in his circle he will fight the entire world for you and be very concerned with your well-being. Premise Two: Fjord grew up in a shitty orphanage, the kind that would be under-staffed and overflowing, with many kids who struggle and don't get the help and attention they need. Conclusion: Fjord as an older kid would be asked/expected to step in with the littles a lot. He would know how to do the mechanics of caretaking, like diapers, tying shoes, etc. He's also of a personality that would spend extra time soothing fights and nightmares and things as best as he could.

When it comes to enthusiasm, Fjord also was bullied a whole lot and had a terrible childhood. He can deal with kids so well partially because he has no illusions about how cruel or intelligent they can be. If he has to do it he'd be pretty good, but I don't think he'd ever choose to spend a bunch of time with kids.

4) Caleb: Experience 2/5, Enthusiasm 4/5

Caleb and Fjord are pretty much inverse of each other here. Caleb was an only child and his small town's Golden Boy. He didn't have siblings to learn about, and in his town he'd be allowed and encouraged to study instead of doing something like babysitting. Not lower than a two because in a small town, kids do run around in packs outside, so he's at least for sure interacted with littles in his life, which puts him above everyone still left.

Even without much experience though, Caleb seems like he really likes kids! He wants to be a teacher and is great with Luc on multiple occasions. Liking kids just fits with the goofy, sincere parts of his personality as well. Like Yahsa, Caleb would appreciate how earnest and uncorrupted by the world a child can be.

5) Caduceus: Experience 1/5, Enthusiasm 4/5

Caduceus is the kind of guy that probably thinks he's great with kids, but if you left him with one he would have zero coping skills. Remember that he grew up the second-youngest of four in a very isolated setting; it's very possible that Clarabelle was without exaggeration the only child he'd ever seen before the m9.

So Caduceus would like kids alright, as we saw with Luc, but he's not one to ever dumb himself down or really conceive of perspectives outside his own. He'd give kids knives and tell them horror stories is what I'm saying. I actually think Clay would be great with teens, because he's not one to condescend (well he is but not in that way), and he would assume they can take responsibility and understand complex ideas.

6) Jester: Experience 0/5, Enthusiasm 4/5

I have a feeling I'm gonna get some arguments to this (which I welcome; please come try and change my mind), but I genuinely think Jester Lavvore, esp early-campaign, would be terrible with children. She's got a perfect storm of personality traits to be bad at this: A Very Adult sense of humor, no ability/willingness to filter herself or control her first instincts, and a mostl-harmless rich girl innocence that would make jt hard for her to be patient or prioritize things that aren’t fun for her.

7) Beau: Experience 0/5, Enthusiasm 2/5 Much like with Caduceus, Beau is a prime example of why working with kids and working with teens are such different jobs. There are several canonical examples of Beau enjoying gaining the trust of teens by doing things like giving them explosives or booze.

For a 16-year-old who wants to grow up and discover themselves, throwing-star lessons and free reign of town are actually great and important strategies for gaining their trust and respect. But a 2nd-grader put in the same situation will feel lost, unsupported, and then cut their hand off with a bladed monk weapon. “Sorry”, says Beau with a shrug. “You shouldn’tve left me with a baby. I fuckin hate kids”.

#cr #cr meta #m9 #critical role #my writing

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aiyexayen · 3 years

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The ChengXian/WangXian parallel gifsets about the sad boat rides with Wen Ning made me think, once again, about how Wei Ying was worried about being the Jiang Cheng in his relationship with Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying just had so few models of relationship, and only two real models of a serious relationship involving himself--Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. He saw himself as a caretaker in each of them.

Even Jiang Yanli, ultimately, though there was certainly more give and take there. He only accepted a very specific kind of caretaking from her, though, and we see how fraught that was in the way Yu-furen shamed Jiang Yanli for it.

But Jiang Cheng was the most complicated. He and Wei Ying were the Yunmeng Shuangjie. Twin Heroes. Both of them strong male cultivators. Their relationship was such a carefully orchestrated imbalance. Wei Ying had to take care of Jiang Cheng even to the point of making sure Jiang Cheng didn’t feel taken care of. He was stronger, but he had to make sure Jiang Cheng didn’t feel weaker.

And at the same time, he had to be able to have his best friend and brother and navigate the lines of teasing and boasting that came with those dynamics and also with his natural brash and outgoing and free-spirited personality. It’s not something that weighed particularly heavy on him until later on, of course; it’s just How Things Were.

But Lan Zhan being Wei Ying's true equal was a heady taste of something new, something he was desperate for.

Someone he didn’t have to take care of in all those tricky, sticky ways. Someone who could understand him from the outside. That equality between them--of swords and strength and wit--formed so much of their early relationship. The ways Wei Ying and Lan Zhan excelled differently weren’t seen as anything but surface-level differences, cultivation styles. They could choose to take care of each other on their own (like in the Xuanwu cave) but there were no expectations except that which they set for themselves.

The best cohesive example I can think of is the situation at Dafan Mountain. Jiang Cheng has taken off after Wei Ying, to come and find his troublemaking brother and bring him home, ostensibly being the one to wrangle and care for his brother and best friend and someday-second. But as soon as he finds them, Wei Ying is clearly the one in charge. Jiang Cheng gets locked into a shield barrier, given a verbal half-teasing pat on the head, and left behind. Wei Ying goes off with Lan Zhan to find the source of the problems and their new level of partnership is beautifully put on display through their fight (other things happen in that fight, too, but that’s another post).

Jiang Cheng was never allowed to truly take care of Wei Ying. His parents never let him. Wei Ying never let him. He tried, all the time, most of all when he gave himself up to the Wen soldiers. But even that was immediately undone, turned back around on him.

Wei Ying never figured out how to attain any semblance of true equilibrium in his relationship with Jiang Cheng, even after everything at Lotus Pier, especially after everything at Lotus Pier, either before or after the core transfer. Maybe if he had, things would have been different. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have sacrificed his core to begin with.

It’s debatable how much Wei Ying expected to keep living after his core was gone. It’s even more debatable how much he really thought about anything past his own desperation in the moment, about all the promises broken with that single act, about how that would affect his relationship with anyone else. That doesn’t seem like a very Wei Ying thing to sit and think about.

Regardless, once the core was gone, he and Lan Zhan weren't equals. It messed up his relationship with Jiang Cheng, too, of course. The resentful energy was its own kind of strength but it couldn’t make up the difference in any way that counted. It just complicated everything by a thousand times and added in all kinds of new problems.

Even though Jiang Cheng had his core and Wei Ying had nothing but the tortured screams of the lost and vengeful echoing in his head, Wei Ying was still the caretaker there.

Don’t let Jiang Cheng find out the secret. Don’t let Lan Zhan become embroiled in it or expose the secret. Make sure Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli and Lotus Pier are okay. Lift Jiang Cheng up as a leader. Win the war. Apparently still be alive welp didn’t see that coming. Protect them all. Even if it means leaving.

But as much as he scrambled for strengths and leaned on his demonic cultivation he was still weak. Able to wipe out entire outposts of Wen agents yet repeatedly brought to a point where Lan Zhan could kill him easily and we know that the only way he could hope to match him would be to use this dangerous thing that's eating his soul, so shit could really get out of hand. Which wasn't really winning in the end. Demonic cultivation for him in general wasn’t strength so much as carefully-applied weakness.

Not to mention his reputation. They got so far off-balance where reputation and social standing was concerned.

Wei Ying’s merits had been contentious throughout his life--on the one hand, they're all he had to elevate himself beyond the need for the Jiangs' charity, or anyone's charity, as his status as family was so fraught and inconsistent. Being the best made all of that a moot point as much as it could be. And it also made him able to take care of said family, fulfilling all manner of "repay debt" vibes and "I'm obsessed with justice and protection" vibes.

On the other hand, they were definitely part of what made things so difficult with Jiang Cheng. Wei Ying’s reputation outclassing Jiang Cheng’s as a prodigy, a swordsman, a hero, even as he balanced it out by getting a simultaneous reputation for goofing off and being irresponsible. He did his best to make them complementary even though they were never really allowed to be.

But Jiang Cheng said it himself when he visited Wei Ying at the Burial Mounds--as soon as he started walking a different path, all of his merits and his skills and his reputation were turned upside down and used to make him a more effective villain.

So suddenly he didn’t even have any good social standing. He was mistrusted and then hated and reviled. On a number of levels, he could handle that, because it was more important to him that everyone who wasn’t him was okay. But it put him at complete odds with the great Hanguang-Jun, which was definitely something he made a point of noting more than once so we know it really, really mattered to him.

And that knowledge crept further and further in, between the war ending, things going back to some semblance of normal when he...couldn’t, and eventually him ending up in the Burial Mounds.

It was inevitable. He was the weaker one between himself and Lan Zhan, in every possible way. He knew of only one way that could go down.

It's a fear that got tangled up along with the rest of his paranoias, insecurities, traumas, resolutions, and twisted certainties pre-timeskip. On top of that, he lost a central piece of his identity and had no idea how to replace it.

If he isn't himself, who else can he be? Who else might he turn into? Someone who needs to be taken care of? Someone who might have his agency circumvented by a stronger person who thinks he knows better?

He sure did that to Jiang Cheng, and he never really had to own up to that piece of it. He never really regretted it either but he also sure didn't want to be on the other end of it.

Aside from that, Wei Ying just didn't know how to not be the strongest person. Being equal is the closest he’d ever come. He's never been allowed to be weak and taken care of unless he's play-acting and isn't that fucking heartbreaking? Fuck.

So who is he without that?

He still fought with the strengths he had and pretended to have the rest of them. And in one last great act of being the protector and caretaker, ran off to the Burial Mounds.

We do get to see Wei Ying and Lan Zhan working in tandem to bring back Wen Ning, and even though Wei Ying stumbles at the end (for the first time ever, I think, into Lan Zhan’s arms?), he does it successfully. They’re still able to work together, in spite of everything that’s happened, especially when Wei Ying is leaning into his actual talents. Even if Wei Ying’s weakness is still looming over his shoulder, as we see later.

Being with the Wens, living a simple life, leaning into his strengths, being part of a community and family, taking time to work on his scholarly/inventor hobbies, all this served to calm a lot of those fears and also conveniently take Wei Ying out of the scenarios and away from the relationships that caused them. It offered him tentative new pieces of identity to grab.

But then, of course, he lost that, too.

Post-timeskip, Wei Ying is thrust right back into a world where he has to finally face those issues. Whether you take it as he still has no core, or he has Mo Xuanyu’s really weak core, he’s not doing so great where that’s concerned.

He still has strengths. We’re not actually shown any indications that this man is weak at any point, not truly. He has a better grasp on the situation at Mo Manor than all of those precious Lan babies put together.

But we are shown that he uses a bunch of hands-on crafty tricks, talismans and spells and such. And, interestingly, in counterpoint we’re shown Lan Zhan descending from the heavens with his qin. Wei Ying doesn’t use a dizi here yet (let alone sword), and Lan Zhan doesn’t use Bichen. I do think that’s lovely.

However, Lan Zhan is still incredibly strong, in more ways than just physically: his reputation is strong, his presence is strong, his confidence is high, his mastery of the qin is unparalleled, he’s had sixteen more years to grow up and develop his golden core.

From the framing, and Wei Ying’s reactions, and the Lan juniors’ reactions, it’s pretty clear that’s the impression Wei Ying has. There’s an imbalance between them (along with alllll the other reasons he might have to want to stay away from/keep Lan Zhan out of things). He doesn’t see them as complementary, just as not-the-same.

He meets Jiang Cheng next and, hey, Jiang Cheng is actually really strong now, too (also he always was but meh). Again, Wei Ying uses his tricks to outwit and outmaneuver the situation at hand. Again, he’s struck by the impressive image of someone entering the scene like a badass.

And what a deliciously awful carousel of conflicting feelings. Pride? Despair? Longing? Love? Annoyance? Delight? Relief? Pain? Fear?

But as far as strength goes, clearly Jiang Cheng has it in buckets, now. Which means even if they still had a relationship, Jiang Cheng surely wouldn't even be the Jiang Cheng in it anymore. What a horrible realisation.

It can’t be helped much by the fact that Wei Ying almost lets himself get run through and Lan Zhan enters the scene to fucking save him. Even if it’s from the kid we know he just bested.

And that’s the back and forth we see at first. Wei Ying proving his strength and his character but the framing and his reactions proving that he’s still caught in the idea that Lan Zhan is stronger and better than him.

Lan Zhan is beloved. Lan Zhan is strong. Lan Zhan would never accidentally murder people he loved more than life itself. (OKay I won’t get into that but tell me he didn’t think that at any point I dare you)

He accepts it and plays it off as not a big deal, but it clearly is. In his rare serious moments, we see that.

So post-timeskip, Wei Ying has to figure out who he is and then how he can be said person. A significant part of the character and relationship development post-timeskip is about that.

He once again finds himself exploring uncharted territory of building relationship dynamics he’s never experienced with Lan Zhan. It started because he realised they were equals. It can’t develop further until he acknowledges that they still are.

He figures out how to be weak with Lan Zhan first, that it's safe and allowed and okay. There’s nothing wrong with being taken care of. It doesn’t have to define him and it doesn’t have to be about agency or about all the twisty psychological junk that was all wrapped up in his familial relationships at all.

Then he figures out that he still has the capacity to take care of someone like Lan Zhan back, that he’s still able to be needed, and not just someone to follow around and protect.

Wei Ying has strengths, strengths that were always there and always part of him as well as new ways he's grown and changed. He’s an inventor, he’s a genius, he’s a prodigy, he has his talismans and his music and his people skills and his teaching ability and his empathy and his heart.

All this definitely comes to a head on the steps of Jinlintai, by which point it feels like one of the only remaining imbalances that Wei Ying feels so keenly is their status, which of course Lan Zhan snuffs out utterly romantically.

It’s even more poignant that that moment comes right after Wei Ying gets Suibian back. And he's not nearly as good with it--Lan Zhan has to protect him multiple times in that fight and then of course he gets stabbed. But the point is still made, that he was still able to fight, and even his failures with the sword just drive home that this isn't who he is now. And that's okay.

By the time they're at the Burial Mounds again, Wei Ying has accepted the way they work as a team and that they can be complementary. And they fight flawlessly.

I love that growth for him.

He absolutely ends up being the Jiang Cheng, in a number of ways. He runs after Lan Zhan when he’s drunk to keep him out of trouble. He ends up left behind to take care of defenseless people while Lan Zhan runs off and has an epic sword fight in an evil fog bank.

He has to be taken from Lotus Pier, unconscious, in a boat, and is held so preciously in Lan Zhan’s arms.

But. Turns out it’s not so bad when the person you’re being Jiang Cheng for isn’t Wei Ying.

I swear this is not throwing shade at Wei Ying.

But he figures out, slowly, how to actually have a relationship built on even ground, as equals, in spite of being unequal in all the ways he used to think mattered. And he only manages it with someone once he’s on the weaker side of it.

I just think that’s super interesting.

And I think it sets a precedent for Wei Ying to understand the flaws in his old dynamic with Jiang Cheng. Especially once there aren’t secrets between them.

Everything has to change, anyway. Everything has already changed, almost two decades ago, and it isn’t going back. It can’t ever go back. Everything they were to each other was bound up in Jiang Yanli’s presence, in promises long broken, in dreams long dead, in a future that has already proved to not be real. In the old Lotus Pier, a lot of it, since they never really moved on from that, either, even back then.

Jiang Cheng has grown up. He’s raised a kid. He’s raised and trained disciples. He’s been a sect leader for over a decade and a half. He’s been to other people what he never could be to Wei Ying.

He’s also proven that he still wants his brother to fix things, still expects him to be able to. Still wants to fight, still knows how to cry. Still acknowledges fragmented pieces of their lost dynamic. Probably more of the healthy ones than Wei Ying ever has, too.

Jiang Cheng still, even in the wake of learning about the golden core, even after everything he’s built and has become, acknowledges Wei Ying as a strong person. As someone as strong as he is, if not stronger in many ways. As having the capacity of an older brother.

But then, Jiang Cheng was always able to conceptualise a world where he and Wei Ying were equals, complementary if not evenly matched, just as much as Lan Zhan was.

It wasn’t a fantasy that Wei Ying indulged him in. It was a reality that Wei Ying himself didn’t know how to accept and kept at a distance, carefully juggling too many separate parts of a whole he couldn’t allow to come together until they all crashed down.

But he’s been on the other side of it now and maybe it’s enough. Maybe he can take what he’s learned in building/rebuilding his relationship with Lan Zhan and apply it to other people. Especially Jiang Cheng.

And maybe Jiang Cheng has been a sect leader and an uncle long enough to not let Wei Ying get away with shit.

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littlx-songbxrd · 2 years

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Zia help people are saying Kit's a 6 again/lh

But I'm curious what would your arguement be for Kit being a four. I feel like I can never explain it properly.

Ok so i hope i do my explanation justice cause i might be feeling very scattered and all over the place

But i think my main two points were

1. The feelings of being fundamentally flawed

2. Kits refusal to be seen as *just* a herondale, the way he continously fights for his individuality as a person because he hates being seen as just a part of a family he could care less about.

3. Desintegration in 2

I dont think I need to explain the fundamentally flawed part, kit sees himself as nothing more than a screw up whos holdimg it together by a few threads. Like a 4, hes actually taken pride in seeing himself this way, the ways 4 reclaim their flaws and use them as a source of identity to cover how much hatred they harbor.

When in reality, the moment Ty mention he needs him

He wont believe it

He thinks of himself so badly he cant believe anyone would ever love him as he is because he cannot imagine his flaws being loved in a way unlike his self reclaiming. When he reclaims, its him trying to cover up his self hatred. But when other see those flaws and still love him?

Unheard of

Kit is shown to value his individuality very much. He hates heing boiled down to a part of a group (this is a direct call out to 6 kit, when most sixes do is enjoy feeling like part of a community)

Kit values his individuality

He doesnt want to be a shadowhunter

He doesnt want to be the lost herondale

He hates having labels pressed on him he is *kit rook*

He isnt anything anyone else wants of him

Most the times he gets sensitive in lord of shadows is cause someone WANTS to force him into smth he doesnt want to be labeled as and he fucking hates it

The 4 individuality SHINES in that

Oh and desintegration

When at his worse he takes on a caretaker role for Ty during his grief. And while i will not say he didnt do it oit ofcare because he did and he started this cause he loved ty. Taking care of Ty also gave him some kinda purpose in the aftermath of lord of shadows. Caretaker is just another role he takes up cause hes lost and he doesnt know what to do.

Kit desintegrates like a 4 all the way to the 2 cores of fearing they are unloved.

So yeah

4 kit

Dying on 4 kit hill

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my-bated-breath · 4 years

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Do you think Aang and Katara would still end up together if Katara killed her mother’s killer? How would that affect their relationship?

Hey anon! Sorry it took me a while to answer your question, but the truth is that there is no clear trajectory regarding Kata/ang in this situation, especially when we take into account that Kata/ang in the show canon was abrupt and significantly underdeveloped. More specifically on Kata/ang, both Katara and Aang’s arcs were twisted to accommodate for their endgame romance, but while Katara’s arc reaches its culmination by the end of the Final Agni Kai, Aang’s character had become inconsistent in its direction throughout all of season 3.

As such, two conflicting outcomes can result from this hypothetical scenario — one outcome which upholds Aang’s flaws and stagnated growth, or another outcome which forces Aang into growing, accepting, and understanding, as was the original intent behind his character.

From a broader context, Aang’s entire journey since he woke up in the iceberg has been about him reconciling his airbender and Avatar identity, and by the end of season 2 when he is with the guru, Aang is on the cusp of fully accepting his Avatar responsibilities, of letting go of his selfish attachments (or in other words, his blinding biases).

Except Aang cannot let go as he hoped he would be able to. Because his attachment to Katara is selfish, but beyond that his attachment to Katara is a replacement for his attachment to the Air Nomads — and it draws him away from his duties as the Avatar, causing him to embrace an ideal he does not comprehend. After all, the Air Nomads were not perfectly pacifistic either.

Still, just as Aang refuses to recognize the complexity in the Air Nomads’ legacies, dismissing what he may deem as an act of violence, Aang refuses to recognize the complexity to Katara’s rage and compassion, to her violent and protective nature. In my meta “On Ideals and Idealization,” I elaborate on Aang’s idealization of Katara:

Aang loves Katara, yes, but he is in love with an idealized version of her. In his mind, he holds close the idea of a gentle Katara, a smiling Katara, a compassionate and all-loving Katara. Even though he has seen her darkest moments when she bloodbends Hama - arms bent in disjointed angles, fingers curled as if manipulating puppet strings - it does not tarnish his image of her because, at this moment, she is not the persecutor, but the persecuted.

After her experience with Hama, Aang is there to comfort her and help her come to terms with the terrifying power she now possesses. With her face streaked with tears and eyes widened with horror, it is clear that this is a power that Katara does not want, that it has been thrust onto her against her own will.

The conclusion that Aang draws from this is that Katara’s inner darkness is a separate entity from her inner light, and he perceives this acquired part of her as a blemish on her inherent goodness. As such, in “the Southern Raiders,” when he witnesses how Katara’s anger and grief drive her to hunt down her mother’s killer, he equates Katara seeking closure to Katara succumbing to darkness, tainting her purity and compassion in the process.

Thus, given Aang’s reaction to Katara’s bloodbending, he may be inclined to love her in a piteous, nearly-obligatory manner. He’ll love her as the victim who lost sight and control and he’ll love her as a being of compassion and pacificity, but nothing more. Just like in the Southern Raiders, he may magnanimously grant Katara his forgiveness and his continued love even when she never asked for it. And in the end, Aang and Katara will kiss on the balcony of Iroh’s tea shop, only this time it’s not only “the hero winning the girl,” but “the bright and cheerful boy fixing the broken girl” as well.

This is the ending where Aang clings onto idealization even when it renders him a hypocrite, in the same way he is a hypocrite for shouting at his friends for pushing him to kill Ozai when it is implied he killed thousands at sea in the Siege at the North Pole.

This is the ending where he does not grow.

Note: Aang retreating into a ball of earth as a narrative parallel to the beginning of the series when he was encased in a ball of ice would have been much more powerful if only Aang entered the Avatar State through character growth rather than by the power of the Pointy Rock of Destiny (TM).

Now, let’s consider an ending where Aang’s perspective broadens rather than narrows and where Aang unroots himself from the past, pulling free from stagnance. Let’s consider a hypothetical scenario in which Aang finds out Katara killed Yon Rha. How may he react?

He may not be able to at first, too torn between his belief that Katara only uses violence as a last resort and the reality that Katara uses violence as a means of agency as well. Revenge corrupts; it is a stain that cannot be washed away. There is no reconciling Katara’s previous compassionate and loving nature with this dark path she has now chosen.

Except this is Katara he’s talking about, Katara who he loves and gave up the Avatar State for. Surely there’s a way to save her, right? Yes, just as Aang told Katara before she left, forgiveness is the answer. And while Katara may not have chosen forgiveness in the end, Aang can guide her by example.

The next day, he approaches her with the offer to exempt her from her wrongdoings.

Katara, tired and mournful, looks down at Aang.

“What was so wrong about what I did?”

Inside she is hurting. There is truth to what Aang said, that revenge is poisonous both to the victim and the perpetrator, but it is not poisonous for the reasons he thinks it is. As George Orwell writes in his essay, “revenge is an act which you want to commit when you are powerless and because you are powerless: as soon as the sense of impotence is removed, the desire evaporates also” (Revenge is Sour). There’s no doubt that Yon Rha was despicable, and there’s only a little doubt in saying that his punishment should fit his crime — the only regret Katara may have here is that killing Yon Rha is a meaningless act, for she has already gained power over him in every meaning of the word. Revenge is only a gateway to senseless violence and hatred; it is not a slope from which there is no recovery, and given Katara’s emotional intelligence, she likely has or will recognize this. Although she may feel regret, she needs no one’s forgiveness.

Aang is shocked. “But violence is never the answer,” he stands by, he pleads by. His voice grows quieter. “You know that… you knew that, didn’t you?”

Katara answers him, but it’s all a blur. She says something about agency, protection, and justice. He remembers something about that too, about the fury that burned in her eyes when she declared, “I will never, ever, turn my back on the people who need me!” Then there was the hostility simmering in her glare towards Zuko, the way she muttered that she didn’t trust him, not when he could still hurt them — hurt Aang — again.

Because Katara’s anger and compassion do not simply split themselves into two identities. Instead, they coexist and coalesce into one. They drive each other; they feed into each other; they are two sides of the same coin.

Excerpt from my meta Rage, Compassion, and the Bridge in Between

The beloved ideal of Katara — the one that he thought was on the verge of being tainted, the one that never existed — shatters. But just because it’s broken doesn’t mean Aang doesn’t want to fix it. So in the days leading up to Sozin’s Comet, he tries to pick up the fragments to the Katara-he-knew and piece them together again, all the while avoiding Katara’s mournful (yet resolved) stare. He ignores the way Zuko and Katara share glances with a heaviness as if they were the only two people in the world, full of some significance he cannot grasp. Still, it haunts him like the way Zuko’s touch lingers on Katara’s shoulder or Katara’s hand brushes Zuko’s briefly whenever they don’t think anyone’s looking, reflecting a togetherness escaping loneliness.

But there’s no answer that arrives quick enough to save Aang from his doubt and confusion. All too soon, Sozin’s Comet is upon them, and Aang wanders to another world on the lion turtle's back — but this time when he listens to the past Avatars’ advice, his perspective undergoes a paradigm shift.

They are right. The Air Nomads that he prioritized, that blinded him to his duties — they do not exist. Their love is still there, pure and human but not all-encompassing, tucked in the corner of his heart. And Katara was the same. She was and is not all-loving or all-compassionate or all-anything, really, because she is more human than that.

This time Katara’s image shatters again. But Aang does not follow the falling pieces to the ground, desperate to find them and force them together again. No, he sees past the remains and sees Katara for who she is. For who she wants to be. For who she can be (around someone else), when she’s not compelled to take on the caretaker role just for him.

(And he thought he was so generous, offering to forgive him. But it was never his forgiveness to give in the first place.)

Aang lets go of his last attachment.

The last airbender lives on, but so does the Avatar.

#atla #atla meta #anti kataang #anti kataang meta #zutara #aang #katara #anti aang #of sorts?#my bated breath's posts #my bated breath analyzes #i kind of rewrote aang's arc in the finale in my mind and a little bit of that slipped through #anon you asked a hard question so i gave you a 1.5k+ meta in response #i hope it's everything you ever hoped it could be #anonymous ask #ask #is tumblr hiding this post from the tags again?

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