#but it's their fault for giving me that unnecessary trauma | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

olivescales3 · 11 months

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The Forgotten Legends of Chima, Episode 1

Writer's notes at the end of the post

I thought I knew him well, after spending my entire childhood alongside him, but now, he stabbed me through the back. No… It can't be—

This can't be him… He would never do something like this. Or so I thought – he has shoved me aside and stolen the Golden Chi from my grasp.

The furious crocodile stands tall, exuding resentment through every fiber of his body, from the tense muscles to the frowning eyebrows. The shadows projected onto him by hundreds of green leaves seem to discolor his vibrant scales. They form delicate petals that flutter at the wind's command; a force so fierce enough to sway his intimidatingly torn cape.

As I lean onto a nearby tree and regain my posture, I can't help but ruminate on emotion-driven doubts lingering in mind… How could someone hurt their childhood friend? This doesn't make sense! We haven't seen each other in years, but there is no way he would do something like this out of the blue. I'm certain that he is innocent – not because we were childhood friends, but because he was one of the kindest animals I have ever met.

I don't know who hurt him, the criminal who slaughtered his child-like innocence, and worse… I can't stop worrying about what he did to my friend's eye. It was once brimming with emotion and life, but now the only remains I see is a lifeless pearl that can't shine anymore. It was slashed with so much hatred that wrath was buried underneath its scar, which ran from his left eyebrow down to the jaw.

"Cragger… look, it's been quite some time since we last met, right? We can talk it out, solve this problem and… Maybe make things clear?", I mumble whilst my arm trembles as I try to reach out to him, "I need to know what happened. Why did you do this?"

The struggle Chima had with the Wolf Tribe put everyone under stress, and that made the demand for Chi more intense than ever. Each tribe became more wary of one another…

"I know that the conspiracies surrounding you are false. You didn't know that Wilhurt was there. We fell into an ambush… nothing that happened during this was your fault!"

They made him expect forgiveness for something out of his control. They thought that my friend caused the incident, that he was responsible for everything that happened to me.

I am not like that, and I will do anything to prove this.

One slow step at a time, I expose myself, opening my arms, at risk of any attack.

We're at the Forever Rock. Cragger and I would play here almost everyday, and yet this is where I first see him in five years… five years since he was attacked, right here.

I glance at the old, discolored blood stains that mark the dry dirt beneath our toes. Although we are surrounded by bountiful grass and near a stunning crystal-clear lake, it is impossible to distract ourselves, with the miracle of nature, from the unnecessary trauma and misunderstandings.

The crocodile backs away, his claws clutching onto the shiny, gold crystal Chi, and on the other hand, his double sided sword. A long shadow, projected by his body blocking off the sunlight, occludes the Forever Rock, gatekeeping our lovely days behind grudges.

His single eye twitches, trying to pay attention both to the crystal in his grasp and me. His nostrils flare, he clenches his big, impressive crocodilian teeth.

"Laval… Don't- don't come closer, don't even think about reaching me. This might be the end of us." He warns me, slowly pointing his sword at my direction, "We shouldn't have met each other…"

His body begins to give up on him, weighing him down on his legs, but he resists his weakness and maintains balance.

His pupils constrict, "No. I shouldn't have met you, disgraceful lion! Ever since we became friends, your tribe has changed my life for the worst.", he kicks the ground in frustration.

To my dismay, Cragger stabs the soil multiple times. Not just once, but twice, thrice— I can't count how many times he shoved his weapon deep into the ground, but he repeats this brute movement with exceeding passion.

The sword is thrown downwards, and, finally, gets stuck in between dirt's crevice. Cragger grabs the handle that's sticking out like a sore thumb. He wiggles the object in despair.

I can't stand up, but I slowly approach my friend, wobbling short hops with my right foot.

"I… understand it now. It's all politics— my childhood was just a tool. Like my status as prince."

I couldn't even reach him…!

No… no, no! Where did I go wrong— what didn't I do right? If my words were unable to reach him, then what am I supposed to do now?

He collapses onto the floor, sobbing from between his fangs, pleading for help. Tears flood from his right eye and rain on top of the dead, soulless ground, although it's not those crocodile tears that they have been mocking ever since the incident. These are the purest of waters, able to revive even the driest of land. Even if it means to add salt to injury.

I try my best to convince him to let go of the Chi. He's still too young to use it. No one his age should ever need to become stronger; a chemical this powerful will only bring harm.

He gazes at the orb surrounded by his fingers. One misstep and it will ruin our lives. Without his sword, the only way to hurt us would be—

"You foul lions never stop telling me what to do!… My childhood's blood spilt on this very soil and you scums call it a 'sense of justice'!"

I rush to Cragger as fast as I can, with all of the strength I can muster from my legs. My lack of coordination makes me trip. He, before my eyes, propels himself, and, without giving me time to even react, bashes his head onto me.

A blunt pain spreads throughout my entire chest, almost constricting my lungs, or so what it feels like, unabeling me to breathe properly. The grass flies towards me and barely softens my fall, but the aching on my back and gut now become one and the same as a sickening and paralyzing numbness.

Within my desperate and shallow panting, I'm able to hear Cragger's voice, but I can't understand what he's talking about.

My eyes keep closing while I try to stay awake. I can't breathe nor see properly… the only thing I feel is someone grabbing me and—

Is that water entering my lungs?...

I failed.

This is our story; of Laval, the prince of the Lions, and my friends, overcoming obstacles of misery and tragedy. A story of friendship, but also war, destruction, selfishness, and, amidst it all, a sprinkle of hope and kindness that made everything here possible. A prince who overcame violence without picking up a sword. And, before that, it started right at our childhood.

These are… the Legends of Chima.

As the moon rises, it reflects its light onto the nearby lake that surrounds us, forming a perfectly circular shape, only to be distorted afterwards by the water. My tiny lion cub body appears in the picture of the reflection as I try to get closer to the reservoir. The water here is so clear, to the point that its entire ecosystem, from plants to small animals, are visible. Ironically enough, the images mirrored on the liquid block the view of what's on the bottom. I lift one of my legs and I shake it left and right to mess with the image.

Suddenly, the water starts to tremble, deforming my mirrored self and the moon near it. A dark green monster rises to the surface… is it a swamp monster?

"Caught you! I win, I win! Scaredy cat!", Cragger growls, "Don't mess with the Master of Stealth!"

Water sprinkles over my fur and drenches my blue tunic… which is terrible! My body flinches in agony by the feeling of a night breeze hitting my wet coat.

He grabs my hand and climbs over to the surface. An euphoric grin surges on his face, his slitted eyes widen. Our friend group gave him a nickname due to his amazing ability to hide around here, in addition to his long win streak on these types of games. Cragger's dark green head is able to camouflage between the plants, and his olive green torso becomes invisible amongst the algae. Not only that, he's able to climb trees and hide himself there.

I rest myself on the surface of the Forever Rock after this long session of hide and seek with my friends. I leave space for Cragger to cut another line on the stone, marking his new victory.

Unfortunately, not everyone is content with his achievement. Our youngest friend, Worriz, is fuming with rage, hopping around, making the funniest faces during his temper tantrum.

"I am serious!", he swears from the top of his lungs, "Why should I play this if Cragger can just hide himself in water?! That jerk knows we can't swim properly!"

Worriz comes from the Wolf Tribe. He inherited his great sense of smell from his father, one of the wolf elders.

Cragger marches towards the pup. Mighty stomps tremble the dirt. He stands his ground, and pushes the fluffy little guy with his chest. They exchange glares and they clench their wrists.

Worriz shoves his paw onto Cragger's torso. "Unfair! I expected better from a… modest prince!"

The crocodile flares his nostrils and raises his eyebrow. He touches his moist, torn red loincloth, then, he proceeds to giggle.

"I bet you're just jealous that you can't 'swim properly'. Fight someone your size, you pa- pathetic puppy!"

The wolf snarls and begins to swab his tongue on his snout, over and over again. It seems that standing on his toes is not enough to make him look bigger.

"Learn to speak properly before starting arguments!

Worriz' pelt sprinkled with dirt emits a nasty, sickening stench, mixed with the muggy scent of adrenaline coming from the sweat dripping between Cragger's scales, like rain on a hot summer day.

I observe Cragger's face being showered by tears as they inevitably join the sweat on his tense body. I feel his indignation – no, even worse, his pain, his wrath. Worriz always had a sharp tongue, but this childish quarrel has escalated into a disaster of targeting someone's dignity and adding salt to their injury. Cragger fought to be able to speak, he overcame his difficulties so that he could express himself–

"You, Worriz, don't know how much he bore. You do not have the right to judge someone for the way they were born.", words escape from my lips.

Before I'm able to notice, my friends are staring at me.

"Hey, hey!", I intervene, "It's… it's not like my friend is innocent anyways! He also can't judge Worriz' height!"

I snatch my best friend's cold, thin arm. I cling onto him, but he pushes me away… and, in a matter of seconds, between our mutually fleeting gaze, he faces the forest behind us and propels his olive green scaly body in the direction of the bushes. The leaves rustle with his rapid steps until he disappears between the plants. My muzzle opens wide; how could he run away like that if all I did was attempt to help him?...

No… Did I hurt his feelings?

Worriz barks at me, puffs up his chest and repeats the words, "Ooh, my bestie ran away! What am I supposed to do?", with a mocking melodramatic tone of voice.

I glance at Worriz; I know you're trying to insult me. And this is your last straw.

I chase after my friend, going through the same bushes as he did, almost tripping over on the fallen sticks scattered around the ground. Beyond this direction are roads that cut throughout the tropical forest, leading to the entirety of the lands west.

He's already fled with his Speedor. Mine and Worriz' stone unicycles are parked near a big tree trunk.

I hop onto my vehicle and, at maximum velocity, I track down the marks left behind. The nature around me becomes blurry as I continue down the path facing left, on a precipice trail curved inwards. My surroundings change drastically from grass to dry soil. The rapid transition is nauseating—

Whoa!

My body flings forward.

The speed of my unicycle had decreased in the blink of an eye. I had forgotten that Speedorz don't work properly on lifeless terrain.

This is the Great Divide, an arid, mountainous land. It's called home by the Eagle Tribe, and this is where their domain, the Eagle Spire, is located; it's the summit of this thin, gray block mountain. The area here is covered with sharp peaks that scatter even throughout the horizon. A few greens appear here and there, but there is not much life here because rainfalls are scarce in the Great Divide.

The road is slowly getting thinner, and it's becoming easier to notice the elevation between the ground and I. I glimpse at the road track left previously by Cragger.

Wait… it seems that—

He made a sharp turn towards The Fangs!

I follow the curve with a heavy drift. Parts of the cliff tumble down behind me– I swear I could've fallen too.

My Speedor bumps into piles of debris. The stone unicycle rattling is unbearable. My wheel is chipping with the slightest collision. I should be more careful with my driving skills.

The sky is closing by the minute and I'm barely able to see where I'm going. How could someone be this reckless to run into the Fangs? He's risking his own life because of insults!

Everything is now black and white. The moon coats the land with light, and it bounces varying tones of gray into my eyes. Sharp, fang-like pinnacles are dispersed everywhere and form an disorganized barrier around the region. Not so far away, a slim and animalistic silhouette is leaning down near a crocodile head shaped Speedor. A silhouette so bright it could bear the appearance of a spirit.

I decelerate my Speedor and brake all of the remaining momentum by piercing my hind claws into the solid dirt, then I proceed to hop off my vehicle. I have finally found Cragger, but there is no time for relief now. My next move might put us at any risk. Of course, I still wish I could run after him. I can't leave him alone like this.

Step after step, I get closer to Cragger. He notices me, still upset from the moment before, and at this point we are at a comfortable distance away from each other.

"Cragger… None of us were expecting Worriz to act the way he did. I promise this won't happen again; I'll sort things out with him, and maybe he'll get grounded for what he said.", I murmur, "Please relax, okay?"

The crocodile hesitantly opens his mouth, and tightens his shaking hand.

He musters the courage to reply. He groans, "I'm trying to, Laval… I'm trying!

"D- do you think it's easy to let go of things like that? Or that words simply dissolve into the air like they're nothing? Tell me!" He covers his head with his hands.

His cry launched itself from left to right, jumping off one pinnacle towards another. If someone was here, they would've certainly picked up on our presence.

"How're you able to simply 'sort out things' with him? Did– did you even understand what he said? Or what he meant? He insulted the effort of my parents– if it weren't for them, I would've been mute, or even dead!", he shouts again.

Words leaked through Cragger's lips; waves after waves of uncontrollable anger rose high until they hit the ground. I never expected anything like that to happen.

His grunts start to fade away, as my mind boils with intrusive thoughts; dead… what could this mean? Why was there a possibility of Cragger being dead, why would that even happen? What would I be without him, how would I live without his audacity distracting me from rigorous royal rules… How would his parents react to their sweet child dissolving into the air—

A petrifying chill rushes through my nerves; both of my shoulders stun by the pinch of a scaly pair of hands. In the blink of an eye, my entire body is shaken viciously. The constant brute movement mixed with the intense emotions make me dizzy. I'm unable to react properly; everything seems fuzzy, my head feels light, my body starts numbing.

"Silly lion, when will you stop freezing like a cub and come back to reality? Toughen up a little bit!" he cackles in a sudden change of mood. Perhaps I lost the notion of time's passing.

My eyes widen and my muzzle droops into an awkward expression, though I can't stop myself from laughing too, "Haha… I don't know– do I really paralyze that often? Well, it's surprising how much you tolerate me", incomplete syllables mumble from my mouth due to my dizziness.

I sigh, "... I'm glad you aren't strict with me. My dad is already too much."

I stretch my arm onto one of the sharp pinnacles, then I firmly close my eyes.

"Just breathe, aight… You'll be fine, because I'm your friend! Friends are supposed to help each other.", says Cragger.

I've got my friend's back. Now, maybe we could travel on foot towards the Eagle Spire, get help there and go back home. Staying up late alone is not safe. Cragger stares at the moon. It's full, and nearby where we are rests the Wolf Tribe's outpost, which changes location ever so frequently. He points out that it looks quite purplish tonight; I can't see colors at night, but the moon's appearance is darker than normal. Strange.

I stick up my neck and look at the sky. Right now, it feels like a pitch-dark void is covering us. From sight alone it emits a silky, soft feeling on my paw pads. The round, allegedly purple moon stands out like a sore thumb.

Oh—

My ears turn sideways. Screeching noises, like claws scraping on rocks, buzz inside my eardrums. The high pitch of these sounds itch throughout their way into my ear canal.

This disjointed sound pulls the trigger of my anxiety and the adrenaline rush pumps throughout my veins.

I'm fed with these obnoxious panics of mine, but it unleashed a gut feeling I can't pinpoint properly. My body drowns with nausea; fired up aches spread inside me a bit, I sense some kind of dampness that flows from the stomach to my mouth. It's weird and uncomfortable, but I hope it won't last for long.

Argh! Hoarse cacophony vibrates all around the vast land. I… I can't keep up for long!

I move towards the sound, folding my ears to avoid hurting my eardrums. Everything's blurry again, and I'm unable to hear my surroundings. Far away, I glimpse at a shadow near a rock. Is it the same rock from the noises?

As I get closer, a strange ringing becomes stronger. The shadow's long, thin body twitches in my direction. Huh?

It dashes. Straight to me. Out of nowhere.

I let go of my ears for just a second, long enough to hear:

"Get away from my friend! Now!"

Cragger pushes me aside and I fall head first on the ground; there, I squint my eye for a last second, as I fainted, and the shadow wasn't gone.

My eyelids slowly open, my vision starts to regain strength. After a little bit of effort, I see two lions staring at me, their eyebrows raised and lips drooping down.

The lion on the right… is my dad! His shiny gray mane, meticulously separated in half into sleek bangs, is covered with expensive insect wax. I could define his expression as priceless. Though I'm barely recovering my consciousness. In fact, maybe I'm in deep trouble, as his sharp and well cared for teeth are exposed.

Dad folds his muzzle into a big snarl. Even if I'm feeling kind of disconnected from reality, I know for sure he's ready to spill an hour long lecture. He's the King of the Lions, after all.

"Oh, thanks Mount Cavora, you're finally awake! I'm unable to believe you would get into such a mess, my son.", Dad sighs in relief, "Your arm was deeply clawed; all of that would've been avoided if you had called us. I taught you how to roar, why are you afraid of communicating with us?"

This is too much to process…

Dad continues, "Lavertus. An atrocious attack was targeted towards my son– the prince of the Lion Tribe, my heir, my future! Please, go forth and investigate the area. Search for eyewitnesses and identify this abhorrent criminal."

My uncle shrugs his shoulders, visibly confused. I imagine this is too much for him, just like it is for me. An attack… seriously? I don't remember much, but I can feel my arm numbing.

I try to get up, leaning forward. I place my left arm onto the comfy bed, but pain soon emerges and I'm forced to fall back. My dad's right, he's always right…

Lavertus leaves the room, and now it's just Dad and I. He sits besides me, on my right side, grabs my hand and holds it fiercely. He doesn't know what happened before this accident, that I rushed after Cragger without hesitation. He's unaware that I almost fell off a cliff. I wished only time would tell, but shouldn't a prince always be honest?...

"Laval", Dad pets my forehead, "tell me what happened. I can't help you if I don't know what you went through.", he whispers.

"Cragger and I were suddenly attacked at The Fangs. A shadow scratched a rock with his nails and jumped on me…"

He itches his lion chin,

"I see. However, something doesn't feel right. How did you get to such a dangerous place, and were you near anyone besides him?"

I stutter in hesitation; how should I explain what happened? Dad's slim body is relaxed, but his eyes still leak concern. My answer was too vague, but I hope he understood what I meant. He needs context to help me.

"My friends were playing together… I was with them. It's just that Worriz insulted Cragger… and he fled to The Fangs. Oh– I almost forgot to tell you that the moon was purple that night.", I added, as my awkward voice trembles.

Dad gets off the chair, then tilts his head to the side, laying his index finger on his mouth. The balcony of my room is bright because of the sun. The sun, that's where my Dad's looking at.

He marches to the door.

His tone of voice settles down, and as he takes his leave, he takes a moment to speak, "I think I've got it. I'll talk with the Eagles, as this incident is quite peculiar and I need an outside perspective about this. They live near The Fangs, so perhaps they can help us. I'll see you at night."

The wooden carved clock, sculpted by my friend Eris, ticks a soothing rhythm each passing second. I follow one of its pointers with my eyes as it slowly circles around, passing by the time markings beneath it.

I hover my head on top of the wound; it's still fresh and shiny, even though it stopped bleeding. The bed sheet I'm laying on top of, covered with red light due to the harsh sun rays hitting my bed curtains, isn't dirty either.

Dull stone walls cover my room, with a few triangular arches carved on them. At least I'm able to view Mount Cavora from here.

My dad really likes you, Mount Cavora. Even if you're a huge, floating mountain, you brought us life, you brought us Chi. The stone heads that bless us with Chi are what brings us all together, whether past or present, same or different species. Lions, Crocodiles, Eagles, Wolves… Ravens, Gorillas, Bears and Rhinos– we would not be what we are today if it weren't for Mount Cavora. The Great Story is a tale of old, marked by the Chi birthing a new civilization, and that's why Chima got its name– Chi knows it all; or that's at least what my dad says.

Steps reverberate all across the circular stairway up to my room. A shadow seems to emerge before the open door. My body jumps in response, dragging the curtain to hide myself and I end up squirming my injured arm.

The stranger moves towards my bed, as the light hits their body, projecting their silhouette on the bed curtains; they appear to be tall yet soft, resting their closed wings behind the back. I sigh in relief, because this animal does not look like the other shadow that attacked me. I shiver while opening the curtain. Mouth open, inhaling deeply.

I stick out my muzzle, and I am greeted by an eagle.

"Oh no! Please pardon me for startling you. That was quite rude of me.", the bird whimpered, "I'm the nurse your father entrusted to help you. My name is Ehboni."

She holds onto the curtain with her yellow scaled hands, adorned with black feathers that cover her wrist. Now that the blinds are open, I can clearly observe her appearance: her entire figure is covered by well-preened and smooth feathers, but they're quite dark, which made me mistake her for 'the' shadow. An expensive silver necklace, with sapphire jewelry, hangs by her fluffy neck. She smiles, opening her yellow beak.

Ehboni crouches near what looks like a box of medical equipment, and then opens it.

"Come closer, Laval. I need to inspect your lesion.", she whispers while organizing her materials.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, then she holds my arm and looks at it. After that, she picks up a medicinal leaf, lays it on top of my wound and bandages it.

My ears fall down, my eyebrows frown; I won't be able to do much for some time, but Ehboni says that it won't take long for me to recover.

"Just make sure you don't put strength on your left arm, okay?", she pets my shoulder.

"Alright… but– did you discover anything about my injury? Is it serious?"

Ehboni puts away her utensils, gets up, and says, "Don't worry, sweetie! You didn't suffer any major damage. I'll let Lagravis know the rest."

She leaves before I can react.

Argh! What is this 'rest'? She barely answered my question. The cut's shape seemed suspicious, yet I'm not supposed to know what it is? I fall on my bed and close my eyes shut in frustration, though I don't pretend to sleep anytime soon. It's still daytime.

I– I don't want to stay all day inside my room because of an accident. Even if I need to, at least tell me why!

I squint my eyes to check out if there is anyone else here. The room is quite empty, especially when my toys are all back in their place. I jump out of bed and go to one of the wall's arches, ready to admire the view again.

Someone knocks on the wall.

"Silly Laval, did you think you were going to be alone all day?", a soft voice murmurs from behind me.

I turn around, realizing that the voice comes from my friend, Eris. I'm confused on how she got here, although I don't doubt her sudden appearance is very convenient. Eagles are quite smart, so it's fair to assume that she somehow snuck into the temple.

She rests her elbow on the arch and leans her head on her wrist. Eris is a little older than my friends and I; her previously stippled bright blue feathers molted and she's starting to grow new white plumes. The sunlight irradiates her, smoothening her body into a cloud, free as the wind, going wherever she pleases.

Her light yellow eyes shine with brilliance.

"Oh, hey, Eris… It's nice to see you today.", I fiddle with my fingers, looking at my friend with an embarrassing smile, "What a coincidence. I just saw another eagle leave my room."

"That's the reason why I came after you. I overheard the conversation your dad had with mine. Ehboni was there too.", she lets go off the balcony and pets my head.

Oh. So she knows what happened. Great. Never mind how she got inside the Lion temple; I now need to discover what's going on, and why is Dad so secretive about all of this.

"Do you remember what the conversation was about? What did my dad say?"

"Okay… so, they were discussing how to gather information about this case. Lagravis speculates that what happened might've been a targeted attack against you, and thus ordered Ehboni to inspect your injuries."

That's really a lot to digest– it kind of makes sense, and I understand that this situation is serious, but… Why would anyone attack a child? Is that the reason that I'm supposed to not leave this place?

"Eris… would you mind giving your opinion about the situation?"

She shrugs her elbows and bows her head; perhaps asking a tween to dissect a possible hate crime is too much of a stretch. 'Tis too soon to make big assumptions, although the best ye could do is not stay outside at night, she adds in a bittersweet tone.

My best bet would be to observe my surroundings and piece any clues I find. If my dad's suspicions are correct, I'll end up face to face with that shadow again. Let's go to the Fangs!

I hold Eris' arm and tiptoe downstairs.

Eris and I are driving our Speedorz on dry land. The sky darkens as the sun is shining less, but it is not nighttime yet. Pinnacles of stone remain in their place, sticking out of the earth in a pattern similar to a ribcage, more so than fangs.

"These natural structures curve inwards into a shape that facilitates the propagation of sound", Eris whispers. "If anything happens here, we'll be able to hear it clearly."

We are near the area of the incident; amplified noises of chattering and footsteps reach us, which means that my uncle, alongside lion guards, are investigating the scene. We park our Speedorz near a 'fang', and spy the animals there.

Lavertus is crouched, observing the bloodstain my injury left on the ground. A lion guard with light brown fur and long canines analyzes the claw marks of the damaged rock from before. Another lion with an orange mane is taking notes of every minor detail pointed out by his co-worker and captain.

"Interesting. The slash left by the culprit has a distinct quirk– if we connect the scars, it forms a narrow curve", says the brown-maned feline. "The depth and position of the scratch hints that force was concentrated on the entire hand and arm, which means that they are not a lion."

My uncle replies, "I thought so, Longtooth. We put most of our pressure on our tendons to grip; my nephew's arm was hacked, and blood was drawn from him. We lions don't do that, neither do we hit arms."

Wind weaves the dust away, diffusing along the way the unnerving scent of blood– my blood. The shine no longer descends from the beyond above us, as mist starts to veil each of its rays. The shadows that hide our colors in blue are but a speck of our melancholy.

My blood's smell enters my lungs at every breath.

Each. And every. Breath.

I take it. Inside me.

Who–

Who is that? Near the blood?

Is that Laval, crouching near the pool of blood, hiding his wound from the monstrous creature? An unrecognizable monster, shadowed by malice?

Its eyes ooze with a purple vapor. How dare it reach towards the innocent prince, with its open mouth, drooling without self control. Maybe it has self control– it has malice. Malice.

The moon blinds me with a dark orchid colored light.

Now… white. All is white. I am not dead, at least. Something yellow is a little too close… is it the sun?

"Laval! Wake up!", that yellow thing screeches, "Wake up! Please…"

Eris? Is that you?

I latch myself onto her before falling.

It appears that a lot of time has passed– surrounded by a bunch of wolves, and Eris, I scream from the top of my lungs.

I anxiously whip my tail behind me and I end up hitting someone.

"Ouch! You idiot, watch what you're doing! You slapped my face!", Worriz barks.

The wolves distance themselves from me.

Ahh. I feel much better now… the atmosphere, although humid, stinks no more. It freshens my insides. I let go of Eris, then I examine my surroundings.

This is the Wolf Lair; a giant truck-like vehicle, built out of metal, with a cockpit shaped like a wolf head.

I always knew that wolves didn't have a fixed home, but I underestimated how much space they lived in, and the amount of tonnage space they used.

"Pesky eagle! You came all the way here just for us to pity your friend? We don't have time for trivial incidents like this.", Worriz turns around and stares at me. "I'll tell my dad you're the one bothering me, Laval!"

A door of the Wolf Lair opens, revealing a gray elder wolf, trembling his hind paw to reach the ground. Worriz sprints at the feeble senior to hold his hand and help him gain balance.

His face is wrinkled all around his muscles. His bean eyebrows, due to old age, have loosened into a pitiful expression, accentuated by his dirty tear ducts. His white muzzle is unkempt, falling down on his chin, with long unused whiskers. Even though it's natural, the sight of the natural physical deformities that come with age is saddening. Most of the time, they're not fatal, but you can see the effort it takes to remain alive.

Their tight bond is enough to show that they're father and son.

The wolves around us whisper, "Wakz! Wakz!"

Wakz smiles with his weak lips, while his son scowls with his teeth exposed.

"Oh Laval… are you feeling better now? Your friend brought you here, away from the scene. My people told me everything– I am deeply sorry for what happened."

I itch my eyelid a bit. A scene?... Ah, that scene. Of course, I came here to understand what happened. Maybe asking Wakz about it could help me reach a better conclusion? We aren't far away from the area of the incident, therefore it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to get information from him…

"Yup… I'm fine, feeling better right now– and, about what you said earlier… Has anyone in your tribe seen something like that? Or did something suspicious happen before that?"

He turns his head and faces the crowd before him, sulking his already gloomy face. To shun your own pack, huh…

"Quite some time ago, there was a wolf. A big, bad wolf. Unfortunately for us, we didn't know how he became like that, nor why. He was a silent killer, taking others' lives without leaving any trace behind. However… I have yet to find any news of him in more than years.", Wakz grunts, as his voice sounds more frustrated than normal, slouching his body forwards. "I suppose this might help you. Take care, young one."

The elder returns to his base, followed by the others, in a single linear formation. I wonder if they're some kind of hive mind, given how they act like an ant colony. Though I doubt that they would call themselves a colony, and that's because they aren't one.

Eris and I stare at each other in confusion; is this a mystery worth uncovering, or is it just a dangerous dead end? We could come back to Lavertus and ask about what he found.

Weird enough… I was close to the shadow before fainting. Yet… I wasn't able to see it. It's frustrating– if I knew what trait the culprit had, I would've had at least one clue to solve this mystery. I need to find out who committed this crime against me; why would they do something like that, what happened to them? Are they the wolf Wakz mentioned?

Eris covers her beak with her delicate talons, masking her smile. What's all that giggling about? I hold her wrist with my two paws and hover it to me. She, using her unoccupied claws, points behind me, with an adorable expression on her face, almost ready to burst out laughing.

Ugh! This is no time to laugh! My life might be in danger… What are you thinking about—

My ears! Ouch!

I let go of her hand and a firm grip pushes my ears down to the ground. My thump mixes with her laugh and Worriz' barkings. The sounds spread all along the area.

The fall hurts my arm a bit, but I don't mind it, as long as I have my friends with me, seeing their mindless quarrels, funny pranks, crazy adventures...

...Friendship is truly something magical, and I believe we should try to be together as much as possible, because I don't know when it's going to end. Eris lays down on the floor next to me, chattering about the stars, her new discovery about water… She talks about gravity, and that she saw the water following along with the movement of the moon. Amazing isn't it?

I lie sideways, gazing at Eris while she continues her incessant ramblings, explaining how she likes to study, her major interests such as technology and culture of her tribe. She's truly a beacon of knowledge, and I admire her for that.

Moments of peace never last forever; Worriz groans and pushes us around like little toys.

"Oh, hey? What about me, huh? You lovebirds need to listen to others too!", he whines, "Do you guys not know who Wilhurt is, like, seriously? I mean, he hasn't been seen in ages… but if you ended up having your ass beaten by him, then, it's on you. Not my fault you ran up to that guy."

I let out a heavy growl. Why did I invite Worries to play with us in the first place? He's a bratty troublemaker. He bullied Cragger– if it wasn't for that, we wouldn't be here in the first place. Though, he's kind of right, because our fight doesn't have any correlation with… Wilhurt?

Never heard of that name before. It might be important later, though, so I'll keep that in mind.

Shaking movements alert us to three Speedorz approaching the Wolf Lair; they're Lavertus, Longtooth and the orange haired lion from before.

My uncle runs up to me and hugs me. We need to head back home now.

For anyone who reads this until the end: I hope you enjoyed the first episode of TFLOC! I was struggling with how to end this episode, especially because I noticed that I was losing my momentum on the pacing.

Sorry if the formatting of this post is a little different from the first full sneak peek. It isn't possible to copy all of the paragraphs and paste them into another post, and I don't have the patience to copy each and one of them individually. :(

Please reblog to share my work :D

#writeblr #writing #tfloc #the forgotten legends of chima #writers #writers of tumblr #writerblr #legends of chima #lego legends of chima #lego chima #cragger the crocodile #laval the lion #eris the eagle #worriz the wolf

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friendsdontlieokay · 3 months

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I've said this once and I'm saying it again. Maybe I'm overanalyzing this, maybe I'm being delulu (assuming from the fact that I'm trying to give my favorite girl the spotlight) or maybe the mind flayer/ the most powerful creature in the upside down is rooting for killing Nancy for a long time.

Know how El's constantly been ruining the mind flayer's plans over and over again? Which is also precisely one of the reasons why it wants to kill her and I think the same thing is going on with Nancy too.

I mean definitely she does not have powers like eleven, but she too, has been trying to directly ruin the flayer's plans by connecting the dots and finding the truth everytime.

In S1, when she gets stuck in the upsidedown for that short while, a Demogorgon tries to attack her, I mean sure if a prey falls right into the trap themselves, what's the poor Demogorgon's fault right? But it didn't try to kill Hopper or Joyce so it's kinda sus cause it seems to me that there is more than one Demogorgon in the upside down, but let's just dismiss the fact for the time being just for the sake of it.

But again, in S2, Nancy, along with Joyce and Jonathan, manages to get the mind flayer out of will, and even though she was mainly there for assistance, Joyce did most of the work/torture, needless to say that she was the one to give it that final push when she poked that burning metal into Will's body which forces the flayer out of him, now I don't know about the mind flayer but if I were him I'd be pretty pissed at Nancy.

Now jumping straight into the third season, it's when things start getting real suspicious and logical, we know how the mind flayer has total control over the flayed's minds right? They have no control over it at all when the mind flayer is activated, so in the hospital scene when Nancy and Jonathan get chased by Tom and Bruce it's definitely for a reason, and I can't exactly remember who but one of those flayed assholes do mention it explicitly how the mind flayer is solely chasing Nancy "I'm here for you Nancy Drew" why would it be here for Nancy? And it's clear that it only chased Jonathan because he was with Nancy cause the whole time it's been after her, and even tried to swallow her, in fact even in Hopper's cabin, it tried to flay her.

And the reason for s4 is absolutely clear, vecna doesn't curse people without trauma, true he did not really curse her but he did enter her mind, revealed his plan and showed her the most terrible things about her loved ones, and I know that vecna did say that he showed her all these because she was so close to the truth and so that she could tell El, but I don't honestly think these are the only reasons, because in that case the chasing and torture are just unnecessary, I mean why would he mention and show her the dead body if barb right? It just doesn't click right.

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stancy #jancy #mind flayer #Demogorgon #shadow monster #vecna #Nancy's visions #vecnas next target

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butmakeitgayblog · 9 months

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Okay so I tried watching TLFOAH and throughout the first episode I got this really crappy vibe (not from the performances) and it didn't match with the book. At all. I watched through to the end and walked away for a bit. It it hit me what the problem was. Male director. This series is not really from the point of view of any one woman or her experiences or her pain. It took the apologetic parts of the novel and centered them by making the suffering of the women especially Alice seem incidental. Nobody's fault. Generational trauma. Repetative. I know not everyone will share that opinion but the fact that they put a totally unnecessary sex scene in (none of it from Alice's point of view she's an object) nullified the whole story for me. Alice is a pretty object through the whole thing. She's an object to her grandmother. She's an object to the men around her. She's an object to herself. The series doesn't reckon with any of that, it just gives a patent "happy" ending. This really seems to be the trajectory of ADC's career too. Pretty object, patented storytelling. This story really could have benefited from a woman director who gets it what a shame.

I tell ya, I read this about 4 times, each time myself walking away for a but to kind of think it over, and I'm still just not coming up with the same conclusions you are. First and foremost, that line about her career? Totally unnecessary. It was tasteless, and I'm not sure if it was just rage bait or some personal bone you have to pick with women being unapologetically attractive, but frankly you can leave that shit at the door because I'm not gonna entertain it. She's an actress. Actresses by and large get paid to be pretty. If you don't like that, fair enough, but that's something you need to take up with Hollywood casting, not actresses trying to make a living. She's going to take the roles she likes (such as this one, which also happens to be the best role of hers to date), but also the ones she gets cast in. It's not like every actress has the luxury of turning down jobs no matter what your personal preferences are. You talk about being reductive and objectification in the rest of your message, yet really treaded the line on some sexist/misogynist sounding bullshit right there. Be better. That said, I'm not flat out saying you are wrong in regards to this show, but I don't think I got that impression of it at all.

I mean, it was stated from the start that the show is about generational trauma. It's about how victims of abuse can end up falling into and continuing cycles of abuse. I can't side by side compare to the book, but taking the show at face value, that's exactly what it did, so I'm not entirely sure what it is that you wanted from it.

Fundamentally, I'm not even sure what you're talking about the suffering being incidental and not painted as anyone's fault? It was. In her childhood years, it was Clem. In her adult years, it was June and Dylan. There was no ambiguity there. They were all shown as manipulative people who hurt those around them. June's motives may have been different, but she was still shown in a harsh light. In fact something I appreciated was that they didn't write Clem any sort of boo-hoo-woe-is-me sad boy backstory as a kind of way to write off or pseudo-excuse why he did what he did. He was just an abuser. He liked to hurt people, particularly the women in his life, plain and simple. He abused and took advantage of Candy, then June, then Agnes and his daughter, and there was no attempt to try and soften him to pull away from that fact.

Another thing that I appreciated was the fact that they didn't focus the show on the abuse itself, but rather the damage that's left it's in its wake, and the healing process that needs to be done. I don't think that approach lends itself to rendering the trauma itself incidental, but rather it shifts the focus from the violent acts themselves and more toward the victims left to pick up the pieces and move on with their lives. Too often in these cases people get so caught up in the story of the abuser and the whys and the whats and the white noise that comes with those high octane emotions. But the reality is that those scars last long after the dust has settled, and unfortunately by then usually nobody's really paying attention to the victims anymore because it all becomes about the sensationalism of the violence and the abuser. (*Cough* D3pp and Heard *cough* Tory and Meg *cough*)

That's what I think, in part, this show was trying to portray.

Now, switching gears here, while I had my own issues with the sex scene, I do somewhat have to push back on what you're saying here because while I could've lived without it, I do see what it was saying. I don't think Alice was being used as just a visual sexual object, but rather it was giving insight into where she was emotionally. Only, what? Days prior? A week or two at most? She had found out the man she loved - her childhood best friend mind you - had fallen in love with someone else. And that's after months of thinking he'd just left her behind, only to find out it was her own grandmother who had betrayed her and sent him away "for her own good". The girl was emotionally flailing and desperately searching for some sort of connection. She was desperate to find solace and comfort and thus, glommed on to whoever made her feel something that wasn't pain and betrayal.

That's a very understandable human emotion given the situation.

Enter Dylan, shithead extraordinaire, who she immediately thinks is hot. They have an instant attraction and he pursues her just as hard as she pursues him, and in the unstable emotional space she was in, it's entirely understandable that she'd latch on to someone like him. He makes her feel wanted and desirable, he's a fresh start and a way to leave behind her past. It would be so easy to fall into someone like him when you're already looking for a place to land to begin with.

However, really look at that sex scene.

Really evaluate it.

She's not even looking at him.

She's not holding him close or wrapping her legs around him, there's no prolonged eye contact or heavy kissing. Nothing that speaks of actual intimacy. She's disconnected from him and the moment. To me that is Alice's point of view.

You may take that as her being portrayed as just a sex object, but in my opinion it spoke volumes about what was actually going on with her internally, even if she herself was not entirely aware of it (although tbh I think she was.) Even the upside down camera shot leaves the viewer feeling off kilter, almost as though it's mirroring just how off balance and desperate she is, right along with how everything between them was from the start.

I don't think it's fair to reduce Alice down to just an object because at no time did I get that impression of her at at all. She is young woman who has had everything in her life ripped away from her over and over again. She's not stupid, just unsure of exactly who she is. She thinks she's a murderer, she thinks everyone who has ever loved her either hurt her, left her, or betrayed her. But even through that, she's cunning, and clever, she thinks on her feet and has a will to keep going. Just because she makes some bad decisions, that doesn't negate all those character traits.

And again, they don't soften Dylan as a character. I've actually had A Lot of conversations about the portrayal of Dylan and I think I've landed somewhere around: I didn't need to know much more about him. Would I have liked to maybe see more of the building blocks of their relationship? Yes. But in the same breath I think that might've only given them space to try and paint him in a more forgivable light when that did not need to happen. Because in the end this story isn't about the abusers. It's about the women who have to escape them. It's about the quiet after the storm and what they do to pick up the pieces. And I liked that they didn't try and make these women, Alice included, into these fake af perfect renditions of what we think victims should look or act like. Sometimes they're messy, sometimes they make bad choices, sometimes they're strong and resilient fighters who never turn back. Sometimes they do. One is not more worthy of sympathy or safety over another. They make their own choices and they're still allowed to be humans who are imperfect and none of that somehow diminishes what it is they go through even after the abuse is over.

And honestly I'm not sure of you and I watched the same finale. The whole point of June's letters and the Flowers burning down her statue that Clem made was about Alice and June and all the other women taking back their power and their stories from those who hurt them. It was point blank saying that not only is this June giving Alice back that power she had so mistakenly taken away as a family member who loved her and thought she was doing best but had gotten it so so wrong, but also it was her passing the torch on to Alice. Giving her the ability to literally burn Clem and Dylan, even June herself if Alice so chooses, out of her life and start over from the ashes (the Phoenix metaphor from the very beginning.) To start writing her own story.

I don't actually see that as a happy ending per se, but more a hopeful one. So very few times in life are we given the chance to wrap up our traumas and wounds in a pretty bow and have everything feel perfectly resolved. More often than not the people who hurt us don't ever have to answer for it. More often than not the worst people in this world don't suffer any sort of repercussions for their actions or are made to pay a price. What usually happens is we're left with the scars and the frayed edges of what we went through, and we do our best just to keep going, trying to make peace with it through the pain and injustice. I feel like that was a much more realistic - albiet whimsical for narrative purposes - ending than a lot of other options that I'm sure got tossed around the writer's room.

Now all that being said, yeah I think it would've been interesting to see a woman's directorial take on it. I'm not sure the changes they would've made but for the sake of it, it would've been interesting. Knowing what's been said though, I feel like this director cared a lot about the story as it was, not just what he wanted it to be, and added elements that I loved that weren't in the original script (such as the ending fire that tied up all the symbolism.) But also considering the author herself was hands-on through the entire process and the fact that the showrunner and producer was a woman (actually there were 6 women executive producers on this as well 3 women screenwritersand 2 women editors) worked closely with Holly, I think what got into the show was more or less what the author wanted. I don't think the director skewed what the overall message was, at least not in the author's eyes it seems. So while I may read the book down the line and adjust my views accordingly, for now I'm going to trust that Holly Ringland and Sarah Lambert had a very steady hand on the reins of this thing.

#anon #i still love Lexa the most tho don't come for me 😔#anon I'm sorry if the beginning part sounded aggressive I've just gotten too many damn bashing comments lately and it's just #I'm just tired of it #so of that's not really what you were aiming for fair and sorry I pushed back that hard #*I'm sorry not and sorry

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dayseternal-blog · 1 year

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"side effects" by cheating death is full of rpe scenes and all these scenes are so graphic and UNNECESSARY. The author has written this fiction so disgusting that it is as if r*pe is something to be enjoyed and as if the victim should feel guilty for it. It is a sick fiction written by a sick mind that sees r*pe as a pleasurable thing. The person who wrote this fiction and the people who love it have a sick mentality. As a woman, how can you like and recommend such a disgusting piece of fiction?

Yes, it’s one of the darkest, kinkiest, most horrifying plots I’ve yet read! It’s really imaginative and shocking with everything Naruto and Hinata have to endure, so as a fellow writer, I’ve always been impressed with Cheating Death’s daring and quite audacious plot. I would recommend "Side Effects" and Cheating Death's other work to anyone who enjoys dark NaruHina fics.

To answer your question, fanfiction has always been a safe way for people to process and recover from trauma, explore kinks, or reflect on other experiences without having to physically go through it or talk to anyone about it. Their private thoughts, hurts, or curiosities stay private while getting a creative and safe outlet through familiar comfort characters. AND there isn’t one correct way to process!

For example, I’ve written about absent, distant fathers quite a bit due to my own childhood circumstances. I’ve shown Hinata’s, Hiashi’s, Naruto’s, and Boruto’s perspectives. And then other writers have shown completely different perspectives using the same characters in a way that I don’t agree with at all but works for other readers. Some writers condemn the absent father and write the most punishing story possible, while others write forgiving fics or completely ignore canon and write the fluffiest thing ever. Each style gives the writer and readers some kind of catharsis, and I respect that despite my difference of opinion.

Another example is smut. A writer can be fulfilled with a vanilla sex life or may be asexual irl, but on paper they write really raunchy stuff without any intention of ever actually experiencing what they write. They in fact KNOW that if they went through it in real life, they would definitely not enjoy it. A writer may be in a happy hetero relationship but then write only explicit yuri or yaoi fics. And the reasons can be varied, from as simple as “fun” to as complex or evolving as identity exploration, and that has no impact on their happiness with their partner.

Specifically concerning sexual assault, many assault victims use fanfiction to process, and yes, many read and write stories that portray the assault graphically, even enjoyably, even as the victim’s fault. Some need a punishing story; others need a fantasy escape. Every writer and reader behind the screen has their own circumstances, way of acknowledging their past, and way of figuring out how to approach future sexual relations.

On a personal note, I wrote my first fic (Honeymoon at the Hot Springs) after I had almost miscarried, hated my body in so many different ways, was suffering from some type of post-partum/anxiety, and refused to let my husband touch me for months. I felt so uncomfortable in my own body. In a lot of ways, Honeymoon helped me ease myself back into physical intimacy mentally without anyone touching or even looking at me. Can you start to see how a fic about assault can give a victim a way to feel agency over their own body and pleasure again? By writing or reading about sexual assault in different ways, they confront their trauma and regain their sense of control over themselves. If you're also a victim, and this seems sick to you, then your way of processing is obviously different from theirs, and that is fine.

Tbh for Side Effects, I reread only the naruhina scenes and I skip the the bus, bar, massage, and the last drugged scene and probably other scenes too. What’s necessary to give the writer catharsis isn't always necessary for me, the reader. But the naruhina smut is crazy and off the charts explicit, it’s absolutely wild, so of course I have to recommend the fic for all the horny and/or dark readers in this fandom.

Have you heard of YKINMKATO (kink tomato)? "Your Kink Is Not My Kink And That’s Okay." It’s an old fanfiction terminology that keeps reading on the vast and unpredictable internet enjoyable for everyone. And let me tell you, I’ve come across a few appalling NaruHina fics that make Side Effects seem almost innocent! Cannibal Naruto, piss/public humiliation kinks, murder kinks!!!! I can assure you that the writers are having fun frightening and messing with their curiosity-killed-the-cat readers lol.

Anyway, I hope I explained my reasoning well enough for you. Side Effects was definitely not the fic for you, so you know now to approach dubcon, noncon, and dark stories with caution!! ⚠️

Also, it seems that you don't.......know what I write and what I read....are you new to my blog? I read and recommend fics of ALL KINDS, yes. All kinds. From soulmate aus to harem aus, from comedy to adultery fics. People have likened my #naruhina fanfic recs tag to a library and me as a librarian, which is really cute and funny to me. Please browse my rec lists to find fics that you DO and CAN enjoy.

#anon #about my writing #go through the tumblr blog ao3commentoftheday for a whole writing community’s perspectives!!!

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menalez · 11 months

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i agree that in the end there's no one we detransitioners hurt more than ourselves. and i too have to admit that it also hurted immensely to watch your favourite media personalities turn to gender shit.

i was gnc even before i realised that im a lesbian. i grew up in eastern europe, and didn't know that real love between women is even possible, that its called being a lesbian. everything around me implied that im bound to marry a man in the end, give birth to children and be a mother. and it was scary. i secretly dreamt of waking up a boy one day because then i would be able to marry a nice girl. when i got my own access to the internet, i was exposed to even more misogyny and it made me spiral even further to the point of dreading growing up, feeling disgusted and trapped in my own body etc. but on the other hand i slowly found about homosexuality and other stuff. and so i discovered other gnc women. famous gnc women. when i was a teen, i think i had a celebrity crush on Rain Dove(i still find her very attractive), and listened to JD Samson and LP. (i sorta built my own teen separatist utopia in my online space, when i only watched and listened to and read what gnc and lesbian women had to offer) it was like a breath of fresh air for me. and then women who were just like me, whom i looked up to one by one started to proclaim themselves non-binary and proceed to promote that rhetoric further. it threw me back so hard i got depressed. i was bullied by my dad for "looking too much like Jolie's tif daughter". it took me long to stabilise myself back. im still dysphoric, some times feel worse than others, but nothing i can't bear really.

now i don't think that those women caused more damage than my misogynistic environment,my school, classmates, dance class, family, social media etc., they just reopened the old wound in an unstable teen. but i can't help feeling wronged by them a little bit. i don't place the whole blame on them, at least not equal to what misogynistic society's done to me first. as well as i don't think that their fault as celebrities is anywhere near to anything that a regular detrans woman may have of feel. but i do think that people like them, who helped to spread those ideologies, even if it came from their own traumas and discomfort caused by misogyny, have to take some responsibility for their actions, once they decide to detrans or desist. at least for leading young, gnc, lesbian, mentally ill or unstable, autistic girl to the gender bs.

(thanks for reading my rumbling. i can also call my feelings very subjective, because i acknowledge that after all this time i still feel angry at the world, and at the environment those women had become a part of, that led a little anxious insecure girl i was to think there was actually something wrong with her. can also be the case. bc page's transition also hit harder than i wanted, even though i already was a radfem)

btw shiloh jolie (john) is not trans, shes just a gnc girl and i think its awesome that her mom let her explore that stuff and called her john (as shiloh requested) bc its what allowed her to grow up to be gnc unapologetically rather than self-hating.

i get where ur coming from though, i think its a pretty toxic cycle in general, like many gnc women & girls buy into that ideology because of how it targets them & then further promote it which slowly impacts more and more gnc people negatively. i just think that people have a lot of unnecessary hostility and presumptiveness towards detrans people that acts like these detrans people were personally responsible for this cycle existing, as if they also werent harmed by that same rhetoric and aren't actively fighting against it by being vocal against it. that said, of course it's important to go against your past wrongs and to try to right them, my issue is that people assume the worst of detrans people & don't realise that its detrans people fighting against those wrongs the hardest right now, alongside gnc people.

#anonymous

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levil0vesyou · 8 months

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i'm so sorry for that monday production story, i hope it doesn't affect you as much now. adults really do say some wild shit and don't even realize how damaging it can be. my dad would point out all the broken and abandoned houses and dirty cars on the street and say they were mine, and i always replied they were his, and we'd start bickering, and then laughed it off, and i only thought about it recently and have no idea why he would say such a thing? i think it subconsciously got ingrained that i'm not good with housekeeping and generally don't deserve nice things (sorry for trauma dumping). just, adults are so weird with their kids and don't realize the damage

(ask is in reference to my tags on this post)

(there's more trauma in this reply btw, fair warning. under a cut bc long)

Thank you, it actually means a lot!! I wasn't even sure if anyone was gonna read it lmao, tag rambling sometimes feels like just straight up screaming into the void lmao

Hate to disappoint, but its effect on me has been increasing for years 😎👍 It's so weird how you can have shit like that lie dormant for ages until you one day go "hang on" and then it starts eating away at you

It also goes really well with her "Niemand wünscht sich ein behindertes Kind" (lit. "Nobody wishes for a disabled child" but can more accurately be translated as "Nobody wants a disabled child") which she only said once and not even about me but basically one shotted me and has been squatting in my brain evilly ever since. Top ten fucked up sentences to completely devastate your disabled child, number 4 will surprise you 😎👍

(I actually did bring that one to her attention years later but she dismissed any effects it had on me on grounds she didn't mean it that way 😎👍)

Yea, that's some bullshit tbh. Like, that's not the kinda shit a father should be saying to their kid, like bro this is an impressionable young mind in your care who trusts you blindly, not your fucking sibling or highschool bestie you can shoot the shit with. Parents give like zero shits what they say to their children, it's wild. And very concerning sometimes

And it would probably be possible to heal that shit more easily if they actually recognised that, maybe even apologised, but at least in my mum's case, she categorically refuses to acknowledge any instances of one of her children being negatively impacted by something she's said or done if we're the ones bringing it to her attention.

Like, I think she recognises some of the stuff she's said and done as not great but any attempt to amend that list will result in her "oh so I'm a horrible person and at fault for all your problems and you refuse to take responsibility hmmm?" spiel 😔

For the record tho I wanna say I don't think she's a horrible mum and especially when it came to material well being/physical health/etc she really did try her best and I could've had it much worse. She was an underpaid nurse raising three children (two of them disabled) mostly on her own while also caring for different sick elderly relatives over the years.

It's a miracle she made it work and while I do think some stuff was unnecessary, some of especially the later stuff that was more affective (not like hitting or anything, the only parental figure who ever hit me was my grandma who did it exactly one time tho even that took many years to process which is how I know "it's okay to hit your kids" ppl are full of shit) which I can far more easily understand & forgive. That said, if your own child says "[thing you did or said] had a negative impact on me" maybe believe them lmao

...yea this is a bit too long huh

#mine #personal #negative #asks #kookaburrito

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 2 years

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Hi! I am a HUGE Captain Swan fan! What are the main reasons why you love Captain Swan/Hook?

Hi there! You've asked a question I could probably write an entire dissertation about, but it can all be summed up in one single quote:

* added by @delenasalvatore Source: tumblr, via outlinedsilver

They are very much alike in the traumas they experienced when they were younger and the way it ultimately affected them. Granted, they chose very different paths, and they lived in very different times and places, but fundamentally they are the same and can relate to each other.

Because of this, they can and do accept each other for who they are--faults and all. Of course, love does not want the other to be mired in their past unhealthy (or unethical) ways of dealing with the issues in their lives, and Emma and Killian call each other out when needed.

Another thing I love about Captain Swan is the utter and complete devotion they have to each other. We see this most obviously in Killian in the early seasons. I mean, the guy spent two centuries trying to avenge the death of his first love. We know that when he loves, he LOVES. He's all in. Even before he'd decided to turn his life around, before he'd recognized or acknowledged how far gone he was for Emma, he chose to go to Neverland for her. And who could forget this moment:

*Made by @hook-and-hope

Killian was willing to give up his ship--his home, his last connection to both Milah and Liam--in order to save Emma, when he knew she wouldn't even remember him and couldn't be sure she returned his affections even if she did.

In those early seasons, of course, Emma's walls were up. She'd been hurt so much before (stupid Neal!) that it was hard for her to trust that his love for her was genuine--and even more, that it would last. This was as much a reflection on her view of herself and how she saw herself as unworthy of lasting love as it was on Killian.

Fortunately, Killian understands her walls and is more than willing to slowly, patiently pull them down.

But Killian is not the only one who is devoted to the other. Even during the Neverland arc when Emma was so very closed off, it was clear that she saw Killian as someone she could turn to, someone whose opinion and whose judgement she valued and sought out. Don't forget how it was that she found the magic to light the candle in Dark Hollow: It was her fear for Killian and what the shadow was doing to him.

And we haven't even got to the most significant moments yet. What other fandom can say one member of their OTP overcame the greatest darkness in all the realms and died for the other...

...and then the one who was died for literally went to hell to save him?

I mean, come on! That is next level epic!

In the end, Captain Swan was not some destined fairy tale couple, although they did get a pretty fairy tale wedding--complete with singing and dancing!

--They were a real couple who struggled and had their off moments (writers, I'm looking at you for the absolutely unnecessary and stupid drama for drama's sake storylines of season 6), but as Killian told David:

*Made by @shipsxahoy.

In the end, doesn't that really say it all?

(And on a more superficial level, it certainly didn't hurt that Jen's and Colin's chemistry was absolutely off the charts!)

*Note: The gifs used in this meta are not my own. Most of them were found through a simple Google search, and I was able to track down the origins of most of them. If your gif was used and I didn’t give you attribution, please let me know so I can change that.

#captain swan meta #emma swan #killian jones

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halite-jones-reblog · 1 year

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Been doing a lot of work on myself recently. I am trying to have some kind of dialogue with my inner child and trying to get back to why I am so much like how I am. At 41, my own story is very complex and long. It's full of trauma, and I'm being held back in a lot of areas I'd really wish I wasn't mostly because I am afraid of so many things. I'm screaming internally a lot lately, but it's difficult to scream externally without making people worry about me. I don't want the attention that comes along with asking for help, and I don't want to get up the hope to ask for help and have it be denied to me, whether through natural circumstances that are no one's fault, the general state of people who mean well's lack of availability, or by some kind of nature that I may be classified as beyond help, but I don't want to give up hope that I can be helped, at least by myself.

I've been very cruel to myself, and I need to convince myself that I need to stop. After all, who got me into this mess? Me? Absolutely inexcusable Behavior. But the notion that my mistakes are worse than they actually are, are the echoes of too-severe guardians who cared more to correct me than establish any kind of understanding first with me, which made me very resentful of them, even while I was basically crushed into obedience.

I get a lot out of stories where characters have terrible guardians that they overcome. The characters in those stories aren't usually good people themselves, but I like the mental lift of being able to break free of the yoke. Even if it's just a little wiggle. Even if they're so close to thinking about it but not acting on it. Because that's essentially how I had to grow up, having no choice but to accept what I was given, and call it acceptable even though I was absolutely miserable. I could not conceive of anything different. I thought happiness was something other people got, or pretended to be. Even when joy happened in my life, it came along with the impending dread of when it would stop or be taken away for whatever reason.

Now that I'm in charge of my own happiness, after being unhappy for so long, it's been difficult to navigate what happiness actually looks like. It can't be a thing that happens all the time, but it is a thing that can be sought out and returned to, and very often. Very few things make me truly happy, and I often have to be the person who does the thinking about them in order to make the good brain juice flow.

I think when I can feel truly free to think about the things that make me happy, I can get along just fine. I've made the mistake of letting other people's opinions about the things I like weigh me down, but those other people probably have incompatible trauma to my own, and whether I like them or not, cutting my own needs off is painful, unnecessary, and results in way more resentment than it should.

I've endeavored to try to be a thoughtful and unselfish person, but in the course of trying to stay unselfish, the things I've taken on for the sake of others, without even being asked to, have melted my resolve, which is something I very much need fully intact in order to navigate and survive adulthood. I can no longer take on other people's small nitpicks as my own. I regret that my comfort characters offend people, but I don't regret finding things that make me happy, and my intent, at least when I'm not in an incendiary mood, is not to offend. It is about personal healing, at least until I argue for too long about the meta arguments that I lose concentration on the healing portion of the work, and then the comfort comes along with discomfort, and I'm messed up enough that I need my comfort things to actually be comfortable. And with that, I have to close myself off to what others think about my comfort things, regardless of if I want to or not.

I prefer to talk about the things I like. Not being able to do so makes me feel unwelcome and invisible, and I can't sustain myself in situations where I can't talk about things I like. There's a bunch of other stuff that goes into it, but I feel like I've tried to stick it out in so many places where I've mentally had to put duct tape over my mouth to try to fit in, and it's just made me feel like I've been kidnapped or jailed, even though I've done nothing wrong, and it's all just been me doing it, so I typically only really have myself to blame in situations like that.

For years, I've worried that treating myself better would make me some kind of badly behaved ego maniac, but regardless of if that becomes true or not, I need to let myself accept my own healing. It can't get better if I don't, and I think if I accept that healing, I could find that I'm not actually the bad person I'm worried about being.

#personal journaling

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martianbugsbunny · 2 years

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OUAT Thoughts Pt.33--Episodes 2-3

I have watched through S4E3; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—I understand the point Anna is trying to make to David, but she’s coming off as oblivious. Her problems with Elsa were backed by the fact that they’re royalty, rather wealthy, with no concern about immediate survival. She speaks from a place from very high privilege, and as a result she comes off as condescending.

—lol David with long hair

—I can’t believe Bo Peep is a warlord! Only in this show….

—But her dress is gorgeous. The skirt is above ankle length, so there’s no risk of tripping. There’s a big old skirt with a couple of layers. There’s a rather fetching bodice. The mix of stripes, decorations, and solid colors is balanced just right.

—It’s kinda disconcerting how tall Henry’s gotten. It’s like watching my kid brother grow up, but in extreme time-lapse.

—Love is stored in the Killian Jones. This dude is killing me with how good a boyfriend he is. He’s genuinely affectionate with Emma, and even in their more casual moments it’s obvious how much he cares for her. He gets this beautiful look of desperation in his eyes when she’s in trouble. I could use a Killian Jones in my life.

—Or a Queen Elsa. I tell you, the second I saw her with her hair in that fancy-ass updo, I had *visible sapphic panic* She gives me those pleasant little palpitations 💓

—Archie wandering around town apparently giving random, unsolicited psychiatric advice is hilarious. And these emotionally constipated Charmings definitely need his assistance.

—At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that Jack Frost is Elsa’s slightly evil grandfather. Which, btw, would be amazing.

—I’m not sure how confident I am that this other Snow Queen is actually related to Elsa. Her timing is beyond suspicious.

—I kinda wanted to see more of Hans. He’s got some decent potential, assuming he’s not dead, which he probably is. But here he’s a bit more of a threat, and he’s got something to prove, which makes him even more dangerous. I also like the angle where his brothers are in on his schemes to take over other kingdoms. And their dynamic within that new angle, where it seems that Hans has all the ambition but his brothers have most of the power, is intriguing.

—Hahahaaa!! True Love’s Kiss didn’t work! Take that Marian!

—I probably shouldn’t hate her, cause even if she is a little snotty she hasn’t done anything wrong, but still! She’s getting in the way of Regina’s happy ending!

—But the Hood family going for ice cream is adorable. I think the kid’s name is Roland? Whatever his name is, he’s a cute kid. HE WOULD MAKE A VERY NICE LITTLE BROTHER FOR HENRY.

—Hook’s dark sense of humor is awesome.

—I loathe Kristoff. First of all, the hair color, while spot-frickin-on, is the only physical thing about him that works. He’s not stocky enough, and his nose isn’t big enough. Second, Kristoff’s intelligent, good-natured, kind-hearted personality has been replaced with abrasiveness and snark. And frankly I don’t think it works. I also see no reason to give him and Elsa beef; it doesn’t really fit, and while I think maybe some initial friction between them could work, having them legitimately fight the way they have is unnecessary. Part of what I like about the Frozen trio’s dynamic is that they get along. There’s no fighting for the sake of fighting. Basically, because Anna loves Kristoff, Elsa loves Kristoff, because she can tell that their relationship is for real (unlike Anna’s feelings for Hans and vice versa). He just doesn’t work.

—If I ever see Olaf in this show I riot. I don’t hate him; I don’t find him to be the Jar-Jar of Disney sidekicks or anything. And if I am a little tired of Josh Gad, that’s not his fault, and I have nothing against him as a person. I just don’t want to see Olaf in OUAT. Flat-out.

—Charming’s father trauma was a lil hard for me. I have previously written a post regarding the use of alcoholism in media, which kinda but not really skirts around my issues, but here we go: about two years ago at this point, one of my grandparents, who isn’t the healthiest person to begin with, fell down the stairs. And lo and behold, it was a fall apparently influenced by alcohol. That grandparent was in the hospital and then a rehab center for a decent chunk of time (and, being the height of the pandemic, and also my being hundreds of miles away, I couldn’t exactly visit). So, I’ve some alcohol-related trauma, although I think compared to what a lot of people have, and what it could’ve been for me, I got off easy. Suffice it to say, I appreciate the serious, realistic tone Charming divulged that information with. That kind of thing wins me over quick.

—Kinda disappointed there has been neither hide nor hair of a Yen Sid character. I love both the Sorcerer’s Apprentice and Kingdom Hearts, in which he played a fair role, and seeing Yen Sid in my new favorite show would slay me.

—Seriously, is Rumple doing evil things again? He needs to chill for a couple seconds.

#once upon a time #ouat #princess Anna #queen elsa #prince David charming #bo peep #Henry #Hans #other snow queen #killian jones #Emma swan #kristoff #Robin Hood #regina mills #martianbugsbunny reviews

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olivescales3 · 11 months

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Writeblr: The Forgotten Legends of Chima full sneak peek