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fatkish · 19 days

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Alpha Erasermic x Mortem Omega Reader: Rehabilitating an Omega

Reader is entered into an Omega facility

These facilities are made and operated by Omegas, for Omegas. These facilities are created to help Omegas find mates as well as give them a safe place to have their heats

These facilities also act as a sort of apartment complex for omegas. As well as a rehabilitation center for any that were abused or rescued

Reader was found by police, living on the streets and had become feral, meaning they were completely lost to and driven by their instincts and would attack any alpha that tried to interact with them

Due to the reader’s aggression and violence, Omegas from the center were called, the reader was tranquilized via a gas canister (it’s the only safe way to successfully deal with someone who’s gone feral without getting anybody hurt of killed)

The reader was admitted to the rehabilitation program that focuses on having reputable alphas come in and work with these omegas and help them by providing and being a positive example of an alpha, healing the mistrust an omega may have

The reader being a Mortem meant that they needed the best for the job

Aizawa didn’t have an omega of his own, he was too busy with all his responsibilities. But when he was younger, he signed up for the program due to his alpha’s natural affinity for being docile and rational. He is one of the top alphas in the rehabilitation program, as he has helped many omegas learn to overcome their trauma and fear towards alphas

But he’s never actually been interested and desired to mate with one of the omegas, until he met the reader

He had brought Hizashi, just in case as a backup.

The way the rehabilitation program works is that each alpha that’s available in the program will give a scent sample (a small cloth covered in their scent) that the omega workers will collect and bring back to the omegas

The omegas will be brought into a room one by one or the cloths will be brought to them and the omega will pick whichever cloth has the most alluring or best scent

Since reader is a Mortem, the staff brought the clothes to them, but the reader thrashed against the door in anger and it seemed as though the reader would reject every single one

Due to a Mortem’s unpredictable and often times violent nature, Mortems that cannot find an alpha are often euthanized (given a lethal injection)

It isn’t right and is a very hard to stomach process, but it was the Omega community that decided that it was a necessary mercy, since a Mortem’s heats are extremely painful without an alpha and they would slowly and painfully die as their body shut down from the stress of enduring too many heats alone and unaided

This is why, when the reader stopped thrashing and silence had taken over the area, only to be disrupted by chuffing and deep clicks, the workers were thrilled

The reader had actually managed to find an alpha’s scent that they didn’t react aggressively towards. This alpha in question was non other than Aizawa Shouta

When Aizawa was brought back to one of the meeting rooms to wait in, the expected the reader to walk straight towards his scent, but they didn’t

Hizashi was in another room with other alphas who were waiting for various omegas. The reader had caught another scent that they liked and began to follow that one. Upon seeing the reader not head straight for the room Aizawa was waiting in, the staff were curious and concerned. The reader ended up following Hizashi’s scent into the waiting room

Chaos erupted. The reader began snarling and trying to attack any alpha that got close, the alpha’s, understanding the situation, all fled the room. When Hizashi tried to leave, the reader got in his way. Staring him down, the reader slowly approached and began sniffing him, chuffing and making deep appreciative clicks

When Aizawa got into the room, he saw the reader nuzzling Hizashi’s neck. After seeing that, the workers allowed Aizawa and Hizashi to take the reader home with them

Once they got home, they showed the reader an empty room where they could build their nest, the reader got to work build their nest right away. Hizashi and Aizawa provided soft blankets, pillows of various sizes and shapes, etc.

When Hizashi and Aizawa are gone and out of the house, the Reader steals Aizawa’s underwear and nuzzles into the crotch part of it, since is has the most concentration of Aizawa’s natural musk

Reader sneaks out to collect the softest fabric materials and takes them back to their nest

Reader will snarl, growl and lunge at them if they try to enter their nest without the reader’s permission

Hizashi will lay on top of the reader, nuzzling their neck and crooning softly to them. He’ll purr and rumble to them, releasing a calming and happy pheromone signifying his alpha is happy

Aizawa is all too happy to simply sleep with the reader on his chest, their face tucked into his neck as one of his arms is wrapped around them

Hizashi will stand outside the reader’s door and whine like a puppy, even when the reader is in heat. When his alpha wants access to his omega, be it simply to dote on and care for the omega or even to f~~~ the living daylights out of them, he’ll whine

Aizawa is a bit more stern. If the reader is being particularly fussy and is ignoring them, he’ll drag the reader out of their room and give them a deep warning growl if they try to resist, he’ll then give the reader a proper dicking down, making sure the poor omega cries and screams in pleasure and ecstasy

Aizawa’s cock is thicker than Hizashi’s, but Hizashi’s is longer than Aizawa’s. When Aizawa knots the reader, Hizashi will let the reader mouth at his cock and balls, nipping at Hizashi’s scent glands in his thighs

Aizawa is rougher than Hizashi is normally and his knot is thicker, but Hizashi’s knot lasts longer. Aizawa will often let Hizashi go first to help stretch the reader’s walls.

Hizashi is whiny and possessive yet passionate and loving during his ruts. He may growl at Aizawa when he enters but quickly realizes that it’s just his other mate and then he’s calm

Aizawa is rough and very possessive but can be gentle and sweet. There are times when Aizawa doesn’t recognize Hizashi when he knots the reader, this leads to him snarling at Hizashi and Hizashi doesn’t take that lightly

Hizashi can be a rough dom and more often than not, Aizawa is on the receiving end of Hizashi’s dominate side. When Aizawa growls at him during his ruts when his knot is locked deep inside the reader, Hizashi will happily take the chance to remind Aizawa that they are equals by f~~~ing him deep

All in all, the Alpha pair love the reader and you are so very happy and in love with your wonderful and strong mates

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aziraphales-library · 1 year

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hello lovelies! thank you for running this wonderful blog!

would you happen to have more "aziraphale is mean to/rejects crowley" fics? i've gone through all the ones in your masterpost. :)

(also, there is a disproportionate amount of "crowley is mean to/rejects aziraphale" fics and i have ocd)

thank you very much!! <3

Hi! You might be interest in some of the fics on our #arguing tag, so check those out. Here are more fics where Aziraphale rejects Crowley...

Bad Demon by CloudySonder (NR)

(set after the Apocalet’snot) Crowley, in a fit of drunkenness, confesses his feelings for Aziraphale. It doesn’t go down very well. In fact, it goes about as badly as it could’ve gone, and before Aziraphale could even try to process his (already given) response, Crowley is gone; vanished into thin air.

So, in a very Aziraphale-like manner, Aziraphale does nothing for a while, taking it all in.

And then he panics.

Ever Thought of Having Sex? by ANTHONYCOWWLEY (E)

Crowley hadn't exactly planned on going there, but he was so sloshed that it just sort of happened. He'd been curious, for centuries -- and the alcohol made the question seem like less of a thing than usual.....

Via Crucis by Nadzieja (E)

Crowley has been rejected by Aziraphale, the only person he's ever loved. Again. But he can't really blame his angel for not breaking his clerical vows. He knows how difficult it is to leave the Catholic church and priesthood behind. He's done it himself. Now he's just trying to survive.

[A Priest AU, with a lot of angst and a happy ending.]

Definitions of Love by organizechaos (T)

Aziraphale thinks that all the abuse and trauma he endured in heaven is ‘love’. After being freed after the apocalypse, the angel is beyond happy. He wants nothing more than to spend eternity with Crowley but the demon is ready to put a name to their feelings. They both know that they care for each other deeply and when Crowley finally has the courage to put it in words (‘I love you’), it sends Aziraphale spiraling into believing Crowley will start treating him like heaven did.

"We- we don't have to pretend anymore.” Crowley stuttered out, golden eyes looking frantically about the angel. His sunglasses were clutched tightly in the palm of his hand, “The apocalypse is over, it has been for years. Can't we- can't we say it now?" his voice wavered only slightly.

"I don't love you, Crowley." Aziraphale emphasized each word to better help the demon understand. He had never truly loved something in all his years of existence, he didn’t think he was capable. To love another being — especially Crowley...

"I could never love you."

Crowley and His Army of Grandmothers by burnt_oranges (NR)

Crowley had impulsively stopped by Artisan Du Chocolate, the next place on Aziraphale’s meticulously ordered list of chocolatiers to sample, and now Crowley wonders--is it too much? He had bought a hundred fucking pounds’ worth of chocolate, of course it’s too much, but would Aziraphale notice that it was too much?

That is the question.

Warmth by indigo (E)

Friends with benefits really had to be the very best solution there was for any self-respecting immortal being on Earth. Handy. Convenient. The perfect way to de-stress with none of the hassle of trying to find a human willing to overlook the more demonic parts of appearance. It was reliable. Comforting even. Dependable, emotionless relief.

Perfect, Crowley thought.

Right up until the point when, well, it wasn’t.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #rejection #angst #mod d

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pizzamuffindonutpeach33 · 9 months

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A sorta analysis of Lacey's petshop, though admittedly I'm not good at this sort of thing, I hope my thoughts are coherent enough lol

Spoilers under read more, as well as implications of animal abuse/death, abuse done to Lacey, and disturbing imagery. (Don't worry, no actual images/audio of animal abuse/death are shown in the video)

So now we know there was a whole website for the Lacey games! Though it was clear that some things weren't running smoothly.

The distorted image of the girl shown later in the video kinda looks like Rocio, the hair looks similar. Add that with Grace saying that "Roscio was hiding things from her", and it's clear that Rocio was responsible for adding the disturbing things in the Lacey games. My theory is that Rocio went through the trauma that Lacey went through, and vented it out through creating the games. I think she tried to hide it from the public, but it leaked out eventually. It's possible tho that Grace was lying and that she was actually responsible for the disturbing things, or that both were involved with that.

Sadly I can't make out what's said here. I tried using image enhancers but those haven't been helpful. If anyone knows what it says, feel free to let me know!

So, based on the text here, I think what happened is that Lacey used to have a dog, possibly the only source of happiness she got from living with her uncle, but her uncle intentionally killed her dog, or abused it to the point it died.

So I don't want to say that I think it is, but it's possibly another highlight of how bad her home was...or maybe my mind immediately thought of something awful and there's another meaning to this.

I'm not an abuse victim, therefore I can't speak for their experiences, but it's not uncommon for abuse victims to get so used to their abuse that they feel like they can't live without it in some form. But again, I'm not an abuse victim, this is just from what I've seen online.

The text here is also hard to make out, but I see "My legs swell and turn yellow", so whatever is being said here is another highlight of the abuse that Lacey had to endure, I think.

'This is such a game". I'm not sure what the meaning behind this is, but I felt it was an important detail to add.

Here, Lacey is lamenting about leaving (obviously) and doing all the things that she wants to do when she gets out, but can't because "he's still under the bed". I think this means that Lacey doesn't want to leave her dog behind and is unable to take it with her, so that's why she's staying. Or maybe she's scared of what will happen if her uncle discovers her leaving.

I'm assuming that the distorted face next to the dog is her uncle or another abuser in her life. I think maybe as "punishment" for trying to leave, Lacey's uncle killed her dog, and that was the final straw for her, the thing that made her snap. He could hurt her all he wanted, but the second he laid his hands on her dog, that was enough.

Here, I think is Lacey getting revenge on her uncle after he killed her dog. I know what happened in the bad ending of Lacey's Diner, but that now seems more like a vent of what Lacey wanted to do (Put all her pain into one thing and serve it to other people) than what actually happened. Plus, the player can actually avoid the disturbing things in Lacey's diner, whereas here it's inevitable.

And that's my thoughts! I would like to hear other people's thoughts on this ^^

#lacey's flash games #lacey games #lacey flash games #lacey's pet shop #lacey's petshop

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 11 months

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SARAH MCCAMMON, HOST:

Stephanie Foo grew up in California, the only child of immigrants who abused her for years and then abandoned her as a teenager. As an adult, Foo seemed to thrive. She graduated from college, landed a job at "This American Life," became an award-winning radio producer, was dating a lovely man, but she was also struggling. Years of trauma and violent abuse as a child had left her with a diagnosis - complex PTSD, a little-studied condition that Foo was determined to understand. The result is her new memoir, "What My Bones Know." And Stephanie Foo joins us now from New York City. Hello.

STEPHANIE FOO: Hi. Thank you so much for having me today.

MCCAMMON: I want to start with your diagnosis, because listeners have likely heard of post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. But how is complex PTSD different?

FOO: Right. So you can get traditional PTSD from a single traumatic event, like, say, you were hit by a car. Complex PTSD is kind of like if you were hit by that car every week for years. It manifested in my life as anxiety, as depression. The difference between PTSD and complex PTSD is that complex PTSD sort of has the potential to have a constant fear sort of churning underneath the surface. And I think it always had me on edge, hypervigilant, made it really hard for me to trust people - and to sort of bury that with intense workaholism, drinking a lot, partying a lot, that kind of thing.

MCCAMMON: Something you come back to a lot in your memoir is the idea of inherited trauma. So I'm wondering if you could talk about your parents' histories a little bit and your family's immigration from Malaysia and how that shaped your childhood.

FOO: I think my parents being recent immigrants gave them fewer resources in some ways. We didn't have access to a lot of family. And my parents, I think, were pretty alone and isolated in their ability to take care of me and in terms of having other people be able to take care of them and the mental illnesses that they suffered from. My parents came from lines of - where their parents had suffered immense traumas. My grandparents and my great-grandparents suffered through World War II. They suffered from the Malayan Emergency. My grandfather was imprisoned by the British during the Malayan Emergency for five years. And when he got out of prison, he lost all of his teeth somehow, and he never talked about it. You know, there were real consequences to that culturally, in terms of the way that they were raised, but even more so in their literal DNA.

MCCAMMON: Yeah, that was one thing that really struck me. I mean, you did some research into how trauma literally can change our genes and how that gets passed down. I mean, what did you learn about how that works?

FOO: Well, there's a couple of really fascinating studies about how our genes can change by what we endure. There's one really famous one where scientists exposed rats to the smell of cherry blossoms and then shocked them. And so these rats came to associate the smell of cherry blossoms with shocks, with fear. And their offspring and then their offspring would have panic responses every time they smelled cherry blossoms, even if they had never been shocked before. So what happens is the epigenome is sort of a layer on top of our DNA that kind of decides what genes get turned off and on. And experiencing trauma can change that epigenome.

MCCAMMON: I want to talk about your therapist, Dr. Ham. He is basically my favorite person in this book.

FOO: (Laughter).

MCCAMMON: How did you find him? And, in short, how did he help you?

FOO: I found him in a very radio producer-y (ph) way. I found him through listening to a podcast (laughter). He was talking about complex PTSD as, like, being the Incredible Hulk, right? Because the Incredible Hulk was actually abused as a kid. His father was an alcoholic, and now he had a hard time controlling his emotions when he was angry. He would sort of literally not be able to speak well, and he would just focus on surviving. And that is exactly what having complex PTSD is like. But the Hulk is not a villain. The Hulk is a hero. And so I needed to know more about that. And so I went to interview him, and he started interviewing me in the middle of me interviewing him. And eventually, he asked me if he could treat me, and I agreed.

MCCAMMON: And you approached this in a very radio producer-y way.

FOO: Yeah.

MCCAMMON: I mean, you have all of your tapes of your sessions with him, right?

FOO: Correct. And after we got done with a session, I would immediately go to the cafe downstairs, and I would upload all of my audio and transcribe it and put it in a Google doc, as you are very familiar with.

MCCAMMON: All too familiar.

FOO: And then we would edit it. And it was like we were editing my trauma out of the scripts. There was a point at which - after our actual first session, I saw, like, a whole page of me ranting about, like, my husband's job, which seemed completely out of left field. And I commented, what is going on here? Where am I? And he said, ah, you are dissociated because you are triggered. And I was like, what triggered me? Why am I dissociated? And I scrolled up. And right before that rant, I had talked about my mom holding a knife to my neck. And I turned off my emotions and my brain to access that, and I needed to disappear in some way to say that. And I got lost on the way. And so that was so helpful for me to just understand, with true journalistic objectivity, I guess, what was happening in my brain.

MCCAMMON: I'm really curious, though. You know, in writing this book and even now in talking about it, you have to go revisit a lot of those traumas again. You're talking about them right now. You're thinking about them. You're writing about them. I mean, how was that? How is that?

FOO: Yeah, dissociation, baby. That's what allows me to be talking to you and saying these things to you right now. And I think the other thing, too, is that I really did prioritize healing before I focused on writing. So writing itself was not the catharsis. Healing was the catharsis. It made me feel like I just wanted to share what I had learned. It was coming from a place of hope, and I wanted to write something that would help other people feel hopeful to. And I don't think that you ever totally heal from complex PTSD. It's sort of something that you carry with you all the time. But I feel like if the burden, the weight of complex PTSD, is like a pack on my back, then the process of healing has made me stronger. Does that mean, of course, that sometimes the pack gets really, really heavy and I need to sit down and take a break and cry a little bit and figure some new stuff out? Of course. Of course. That's what life is. But now I feel like I can hold the sadness and the anger and the joy all together.

MCCAMMON: Stephanie Foo's memoir is "What My Bones Know." Thank you so much for talking with us.

FOO: Thank you so much for having me. I really appreciate this opportunity to shed some light on complex PTSD.

#Stephanie Foo #What My Bones Know #complex PTSD #child abuse #psychology #interview

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sissytobitch10seconds · 1 year

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Passionate Life

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: So much had happened in his life since the Academy, so much that sometimes he forgot what his life before was life. He can't ignore it forever when he runs into an all too familiar face, however. Warnings: Mentions of transphobia, dysphoria, and mentions of child abuse Word Count: 3,463 Ship(s): Viktor Hargreeves/Helen Cho, Viktor Hargreeves & Allison Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: This fic has been sitting, waiting to get published for a very long time and I have been putting it off because I enjoyed a lot of the other fics I had written a lot more. It's a pretty small 'what if' type situation that I originally wrote hot off seeing S1 for the first time. It was originally written with Viktor's deadname and she/her pronouns so if you see any of that please let me know so that I can correct it. With all that being said, please enjoy this fic!

It wasn't his first time on a movie set, but it was his first time being on a set that he was working on. It wasn’t like he was the one that was going to be on camera, but that didn't stop the nerves from fluttering throughout his system. He stood on the very outside of the set as he watched everyone rushing around while trying to get ready for the day's shoot. The camera and lighting people were talking with the director as they talked about a way that they could get the shot that was in the script without the camera or any of the sound equipment showing in the final cut. Several personal assistants were running back and forth as they tried to get the talent that they were responsible for into the proper locations before action was called. The talent themselves were talking amongst each other while they ran through some of their lines and just conversed about their days, taking up time until they were needed.

Viktor had his violin case strapped to his back for something that he would be working on later in the day after talking to the people he was here to visit. He was watching the chaos unfold around him just like he had when he was a child.

He laughed softly to himself as the thought crossed his mind. He had woken up today feeling oddly nostalgic about his past despite the trauma that he had endured. It may have been because this was the last day of his classes for the year. The last semester of the year was coming to a close, so he was going to be losing a lot of his students to graduation. Regardless of the reason, he had woken up thinking about his past, which didn’t happen very often anymore. So much had happened since he had moved out that there were some days where he forgot where he had come from. But with that came days like today, when all he could think about was his past. That meant that being on the outside of the chaos around all the other people that had tasks without him reminded him of being a kid. The other children in the Hargreeves house hadn't meant to always leave him out, even when they were playing, but they were so separated from each other that it ended up happening anyway.

Slowly, things were beginning to wind down and the chaos was turning into a more controlled tide. Viktor took a couple of steps back so that he was by the refreshment table, standing off to the side so that he was out of the way and could continue people-watching without actually being noticed. He felt his face brighten a little bit as he saw the one person he had truly been looking for.

Helen noticed him as well, giving him a smile. "Fancy seeing you here," she smirked as she finally moved over to her boyfriend. She reached out so that her fingers threaded together with Viktor's and they were standing closer together. The musician's other hand was clutching the strap that was keeping his violin up on his shoulder, which alerted his girlfriend to how out of sorts he was feeling. "How are you doing, my dear?"

"I… can't stop thinking about my childhood for some reason," he sighed. "Something about letting all my students go, I guess."

The woman clicked her tongue. She pressed a kiss to Viktor's cheek to try and soothe his nerves. "Make sure you bring that up during your next session. I know you can sometimes forget now that you're only having monthly."

"What would I do without you?" Viktor asked. He took the hand that he was holding and then pressed his lips to it in a brief kiss.

"Be a semi-well adjusted human, I would hope," she chuckled.

Viktor giggled, rolling his eyes. It was a joke between the two of them that Viktor would never be completely well adjusted no matter how many medications he was on or therapy he did, not even after fully transitioning. It had come from the reaction that Helen had when she really learned about what her boyfriend's childhood had been like. Her exact words had been 'how could anyone growing up in a home like that be functional?' Viktor had found it hilarious instead of offensive, partly because of his aforementioned childhood.

They had to break apart when the producer called out towards them, "Hargreeves?"

"Yes?" Viktor and someone else on the set called in reply at the same time.

Despite having just dropped his girlfriend's hand he reached out and threaded their fingers together again. He was seeking comfort as his heart thrummed in his chest due to panic. "Love, you're alright," she murmured. Helen was able to tell when her lover was barreling towards a panic attack from just a few things. Viktor got a nervous tic where both of his hands would flutter like they were preparing to play a note on the piano. His breath would hitch every time he tried to take an inhale. The biggest signifier was always the step back he took, no matter where he was.

"Professor, not missus," the director chuckled.

"That would be me," Viktor said, dropping his girlfriend's hand so that he could bring some attention to himself. He was desperately trying to ignore the fact that one of his siblings was most likely on set as well, and he might have to run into them. He hadn't had any contact with them since he had published his book in the down time of his sophomore year of college. The added bonus of his gender crisis and subsequent transition made any future interaction he might have with them utterly terrifying. His therapist hadn’t even begun unpacking that specific trauma, that was how badly the idea of it freaked him out.

"Professor? It's Doctor," Helen piped up.

"It's not a big deal," Viktor soothed. "What did you need from me?"

The director motioned for the both of them to walk onto the set. "We wanted you to know what the set looked like so that you could help the audio department when they record your songs," he explained. "Dr. Cho is going to be telling you what you should perform but we're relying on you to be our expert while helping the actress learn how to play and making the song sound accurate."

"I know with the internet it has to be difficult to make a movie with someone that doesn't know how to play the instrument the same way that the character does," he chuckled. He shifted his violin around a little bit as his girlfriend moved to stand beside him. They both looked over the current set and then the ways that things were going to look when they were actually in the movie. They were shepherded off the set and into the hallway so that they could begin shooting the scene.

Helen reached over so that she was holding her boyfriend's free hand while they walked. She had something that she had to do in a couple of minutes, but she had enough time to walk Viktor to his practice room. "So what do you think? Now that you're in my world," she chuckled.

"I've worked in your orchestra before, Helen," Viktor giggled.

"But you've never had this much of a part in it before. I'm writing a piece specifically for you and it's going to play throughout the entire movie," Helen commented.

"It's nerve wracking. I know that I've played pieces in front of hundreds of thousands of people and we play in the same orchestra, but it still makes me nervous," he sighed. "Especially since my sister might also be working on this movie."

"It'll be okay," Helen murmured. She reached her spare hand up so that she could cup her boyfriend's cheek. She brought their lips together in a sweet kiss, for just a moment. "Even if she is here, you're okay. You can talk to her and handle anything that she throws at you. Because you're mostly stable."

The shorter of the two rolled his eyes but then gave his girlfriend another swift kiss. "Go do your job. I'm going to try my best to learn that piece you spent all last week making me while I was doing finals," he chuckled.

"If you insist, my dear," Helen replied. “Please remember to correct your sister if she comes up to you and misgenders you. You’ve been through Hell because of the things your father and siblings did to you, you deserve to be gendered correctly.” Viktor felt his heart melt inside of his chest as he looked over his wonderful and supportive girlfriend. He cupped her cheek with one hand and pressed their lips together in a delicate kiss. When they broke apart, she gave her boyfriend's hand a soft squeeze before she continued her way to where she would be helping her orchestra learn the pieces she had written for the movie.

Viktor slipped into the dressing room that they had given him so that he could learn his piece while on set if they needed him for the actress playing the main character. He removed his violin from the case and then began to get the sheet music set up on the music stand that they had provided him. He had gotten about halfway through learning the piece in the last hour when there was a knock on his door. He carefully laid his violin down into the case and then the bow on the couch next to it.

He opened the door, peeking out at who had interrupted him. "Yes?" he asked nervously.

"Vanya?"

A flare of panic and dysphoria overtook him as he heard the name that he had used in what now felt like an entirely different life. He barely even recognized it anymore. He didn’t bother correcting her as his shocked brain finally realized that his sister was actually standing in front of him. "Allison?" he asked, his eyes widening. He bit his lip as he moved so that he was standing all the way up and the door was opened a little bit more. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Well I saw you on the set, so I had to come and say hi. We finished doing the scene that we needed to get done today. I figured that I could come and say hi. May I?" she asked, motioning into the room.

Viktor's brain was still chugging to try and catch up with what was happening. He hadn't seen his siblings since he left the house a little bit before their eighteenth birthday. He hadn't talked with any of them since he published his book. He had gotten an angry voicemail from Diego that was just a lot of shouting and stuttering. He assumed that Klaus either had no idea or was too out of his mind on drugs to comment on anything Viktor did. He had gotten no response from Luther and their father. Allison, on the other hand, had written a very long letter expressing her disappointment and panic about how this could affect her career.

In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing that they had all stopped talking to him since he didn’t know how they would all take the whole transition, especially given how dismissive they had been of him throughout their entire childhood.

Viktor blinked and moved away from the doorway so that the woman could walk past him, "Oh, uh, of course."

Allison entered, her eyes immediately flashing over to the violin. "Is this the same one that you played when we were kids?"

"I mean, I had to replace the strings back when I was in college, but yeah," he nodded. He had a shy smile on his face as he tried to think of how he was supposed to react around the other woman, and if he was supposed to come out to her. Helen had said that he had worked too hard to be misgendered, but coming out again after so long without being misgendered felt like a lot to handle right now.

"Wow, it's been so long since then. I didn't even know that you went to college. I never got an invitation to your graduation," she commented, sounding a little hurt.

"I, uh, had two," he replied nervously. "My masters and then my doctorate. The doctorate was only three years ago," he chuckled.

"Why didn't you invite me?" she asked.

"Well, I thought that you wouldn't want to come. I mean, I wrote my book when I was a sophomore so by the time I was graduating I figured that I would have accidentally cut off any and all connections to you guys," Viktor rubbed the back of his head nervously. "If I had sent you an invitation to my graduation, would you have come?"

Allison considered it for a moment before she answered, "I'm not sure. I know that I definitely would have attended your doctorate graduation. That's a huge life event," she insisted. "I would have wanted to be back in your life at that point."

"But you never reached out," he shrugged. He walked over to the couch, sitting down next to his open violin case. He had picked up his bow and was now tapping it against his hand to try and rid himself of the nervous energy building in chest, just under his heart. Things around the room began to rumble almost like they were having a miniature earthquake, but Viktor had gotten so used to that happening whenever he had an anxiety attack that he just ignored it.

"I got busy. Movies are a lot of work," she shrugged. "And the book was kind of a signal to a lot of us that you didn't want to talk. I think it just ended up being a miscommunication between all of us," Allison moved to carefully sit down next to him.

Vitkor packed his violin away entirely so that it was tucked up against the couch. "Yeah, I guess so."

“You also never reached out to us,” Allison commented, her voice soft and nervous. Viktor wasn’t sure that he had ever heard his sister be that soft. The other Hargreeves didn’t reply, just fiddled with a couple of the stiffer hairs on his cheek that he had missed when shaving that morning.

They lapsed into silence for a moment before the taller of the two siblings asked, "What's been going on in your life, other than getting a doctorate?" she asked. She had a soft smile on her face and was leaning easily back against the back of the couch.

"Well, I got together with my girlfriend," he answered. He realized that was the perfect opportunity to come out, but it still felt like his gender identity was a raw wound and poking it wouldn’t help anything.

Allison's eyes lit up at hearing that. She reached out so that she was touching her brother's hand, "Tell me about her?"

"We were together on the set. Her name is Helen Cho, she's going to be the composer for this movie," Viktor explained. "She's the one that wrote the song I was practicing when you knocked."

"How did the two of you meet?" Allison asked next, the smile unable to fall away from her face. This seemed like something that was a lot easier for her to talk about than their tumultuous history or his gender.

"We were in the same orchestra. I was in third chair and she was in first. She barely even talked to me for the first year that we played together. By the time I was in my sophomore year of college I was on new meds, not the weird things that Dad had been giving me my entire life. It was like new life had been breathed into me. I was able to write the entire book and get it published. And I was able to de-chair Helen. She said that she had to figure out what kind of person could move up through the ranks of the orchestra so fast and so she asked me out. She'll never admit this, but I think that she liked me from the very beginning. We found out that we were also going to the same college and both studying music. She was learning to be a composer, obviously, and I ended up becoming a professor at the university I graduated from."

Her eyes softened as she listened to the story. She had met the composer a few times before, and had liked her alright even though she thought that she was a little self-centered. Her brother seemed head-over-heels for her. "V-” she paused, pursing her lips. “You know that’s not what I was talking about, even if I’m happy to hear you’re in a healthy relationship. Do you feel comfortable talking to me about…”

“Me being a guy?” Viktor asked. He was picking at the skin on the side of his thumb like he always did when he was nervous.

Allison’s shoulders lost a lot of the tension that had built up during his story. “Yeah, that. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay. Helen said that I should come out to you anyway,” he shook his head. “There’s not a lot to talk about. After I stopped taking those meds that Dad doped me up with I realized how unhappy I was with my life. My therapist was the first to point it out to me actually. I just kind of… transitioned after that. I go by Viktor now. I wanted to keep my heritage alive, and I liked the ‘V’ nickname you guys used to call me. I use he/him pronouns.”

The taller sibling reached over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The most important thing is, are you happy?”

"I'm very happy," Viktor nodded. He could feel a blooming appreciation growing in his chest the more he talked with his sister. He had never had the best relationship with them when they were all children, but he had missed them dearly after he published his book. Knowing that he had a chance of having at least Allison back in his life, and accepting him as her brother, was more than he could have ever asked for. "What about you?"'

"I'm married, and my husband and I have a daughter who's about two," Allison beamed. She glanced at the clock and then swore, standing up from the couch. "I have to get going, but we should catch up sometime, maybe spend some time together. Especially now that we know we don't hate each other. What's your number?" She dug her phone out of her bag and then handed it to the man.

Viktor input the requested information his sister needed before he handed it back over. "I'll be available pretty much all Summer. This and some lessons are the only thing that I have scheduled," he smiled at his sister. He could barely even put words to how good it felt to have someone that had known him so personally in his pre-transition life easily accept him now.

"It's good to see you, Viktor. Maybe we can reach out to some of the others too," Allison suggested. She opened her arms in the offer of a hug, which Viktor took after a moment of consideration. They bid each other goodbye before he was left alone in his practicing room.

He got his violin back out and began to think as he ran through the beginning of the song that his girlfriend had made for him. The angry words post-book and transition had built themselves into a complicated mess of nerves inside of him, to the point where the idea of seeing his siblings literally terrified him. Being forced into a situation where he came out to Allison and caught up with her helped chip away at the hard bundle until it felt more achievable. Like getting back in touch with his siblings was something he could reasonably do. There was some small part of him that wanted the first sibling he talked to again after leaving the house to be Five, but he had to give up that hope when fifteen years finally rolled around. He thought that Klaus would probably be the easiest to talk to again, but Allison was definitely above Diego and Luther. While the music surrounded him and pierced through his soul, he smiled to himself. He was reconnecting with his family, and there was nothing better.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #the umbrella academy #tua #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy fanfiction #viktor hargreeves #allison hargreeves #helen cho #vayna x helen #viktor x helen #oneshot #rarepair

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bluegoblinfox · 5 months

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"Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right. Here I am stuck in the middle with you"

My eldest lives in supported living. They have a partner and they are pretty much joined at the hip. Its really lovely.

They left after 18 months of turning everything upside at home. It was not their fault. They were ill. Physically and mentally.

Lots of screaming and crying. Lots of panic when I went out. Lots of lost sleep and needing more attention than they did aged 18 months. Sleepless nights and days on end, with out end. Looking for a solution. Looking for a way to make it stop.

My youngest. Witnessed it all and I had nothing left to give. They describe it as abusive but not intentionally by his older sibling. There are aspects to that I can see as true.

My eldest dominated the household. Demanded my every waking attention. Its not their fault. They were ill but the took me away from my youngest.

My youngest hasn't had an easy time of things over the years. He is autistic and ADHD and have been let down my schools and professionals over and over again.

He is getting their shit together now. Sorting sleep, diet and environment. The basics essentially. He is demand avoidant and 17, so I can't put structure in place. He has to want it and create it himself.

Things are calm for the first time in years and he is working through things. He talks to me and explains that when my eldest visits all the trauma comes back to the surface. He doesn't want a relationship with them at present and can't see that changing.

He can't cope with them visiting regularly as the anxiety becomes too bad. The more he remembers the worse that gets.

My eldest is desperate for a relationship with him. They want to come home here from time to time. They respect how he feels but it hurts them, they feel guilty and bad.

I would like for them to be able to visit. With boundaries in place. I'm not going to force my youngest to endure that. To do that would be telling him that his boundaries and feelings are unimportant.

I said long term we will sort a solution. Maybe they can visit when he is out. He doesn't go out at present so that's not an immediate solution.

I talked to him about him having therapy to help him process everything but he doesn't want that. Talking to strangers is too hard right now. He is processing things on his own and we talk.

I have made sure that he knows that the aim of any therapy or even just him having time to process shit, is not for him to be ok with them visiting. That I know that he may never be ok with that and that's a valid response.

It still hurts though to have this splinter and chasm driven through our family. I hurt over it. That's my shit to deal with though. Just as my eldest will have to come to terms with it in their own way, so do I. It hurts and isn't easy though because I feel very much stuck in the middle.

#family issues #mental health #actually autistic #plural system #living with cptsd #plurality #chronic fаtiguе ѕуndrоmе #adhd #did system #functional neurological disorder #autism #family disputes

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fillyoursoulxx · 1 year

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silas bishop - trauma headcanons

More often than not, Silas likes to keep things private. If you’re someone he’s ‘open’ with he has perfected the craft of presenting this really warm and personable guy. He still keeps a lot of himself, to himself due to trauma in his past though. Below is a list of trauma headcanons that have come up for Silas. The list’ll be updated as I think of them.

physical trauma;

his father was abusive, physically, mentally and emotionally. He was and still is afraid of him to some extent, but as he got older and more capable of defending himself, the abuse lessened, aka he’d fight back. There were more than a few times he fantasized about watching him bleed out. the abuse only officially stopped when he took off at 17.

he has various cigarette burn scars on his left forearm and shoulder. They are feint now but he was self conscious about them once.

he’s had his arm broken twice in two different places

his nose was broken once

There’s a scar on his left eyebrow where one of his brothers clocked him in the head with a bat ‘on accident’

if his father became particularly rough, he would make silas sit in an ice bath convinced it would take care of the bruising. most of the time he was allowed to get out before things got too serious, but he passed out once. he might’ve drowned/gotten hypothermia but his father wasn’t gonna ‘rot’ in some cell because he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

emotional & mental trauma;

His father enjoyed degrading Silas more than he did anything else. He endured a lot of name calling and disregard.

His father often went out of his way to make Silas think he was in for a beating. He would surprise him coming in a door or wait until he was vulnerable somewhere.

In these instances, if Silas responded with fear, he usually received physical punishment, blow or some sort of chastising.

trauma response;

he doesn’t like anyone to sneak up on him. hates it. and when he’s out, he angles his back to corners/walls.

when he’s surprised, he rarely jumps/jerks but his jaw will flex/will grit his teeth or inhale sharply.

fight/flight/faun - Silas is all fight. It doesn’t matter if he’s out matched, he’d rather bleed out than run. That is unless it involves someone he actually likes, then he’s a runner, sometimes a pusher

he suffers from nightmares and is a very light sleeper. it’s rarer now, but still more often than he’d like.

has had more dark/suicidal thoughts than he’d care to admit. But he’s never attempted/gone through with anything out of sheer spite, knowing then his dad would be right about him

fidgets when anxious and has experienced panic attacks.

he enjoys affection and personal space isn’t a problem with it comes to women or close friends. he’s put on edge if other guys, especially larger guys encroach on his space.

for the more intimate moments, having his back touched/scratched is fine but likes to keep partners in front and tends to favor affection on his right side.

coping mechanisms;

he writes. it helps him get the ‘unhelpful’ thoughts out and make more sense of things. he keeps a journal/sketch book.

he runs a lot as well. whenever he has nightmares, cant sleep or is just having a rough time in general, he just takes off.

reading is an escape for him as well as star gazing.

avoidance in general. he will spend days on the road or alone. if cornered with his emotions, he’ll fight it/get angry and if that doesn’t ‘fix’ the situation, he’ll run.

keeping busy. he likes to use as much of his time as possible & keeps his hands busy with work, hobbies or women. idle hands are the devil’s workshop.

Speaking of keeping his hands busy, he’ll often rub his neck or the scars on his wrist when he’s nervous/anxious. He’ll also tap his fingers against his thumb and other types of stems.

He squirrels away money like no ones business. He doesn’t socialize much and he doesn’t sleep a ton either, so he can work himself until he’s literally burnt out. But he always has to have some sort of money somewhere out of fear that if he ever truly runs out, he’d have to go back to alabama.

#silas::|| hc #(( LOOOOTS OF TRIGGER WARNINGS HERE. NOTHING IS OVERLY DETAILED BUT READ AT YOU'RE OWN RISK ))

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theyoutubedork · 3 years

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𝕭𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖆 - 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦

Bucky Barnes x Hydra!enhanced!reader

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Masterlist | Leave me a request or give me some feedback!

Word count: 3.4k

Chapter Summary: Adjusting to a life without Hydra has been difficult for Y/n, but Bucky is there to guide her.

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, and sexual themes. swearing, i think, and mentions of violence and abuse. (Hydra stuff) Also panic-attack like situations, sensory overload, mentions of torture.

Not my Gif, had not been proofread too much

A/N: I’m sorry for the wait, I got a job and stuff, but I tried to write it a little bit longer, but I still wanted to leave y’all with a little bit of a cliffhanger, just to keep ya interested. Please let me know what you think of the series. I was thinking of making a tag list for this series, so let me know if you are interested in that sort of thing. You can sign up for it here

“That’s my name?”

“Yes. That’s your name. Not Soldat. Not Belladonna. Just Y/n.”

Bucky looked into your eyes, and his stare almost suffocates you with how tender its was. You were confused. The Winter Soldier, the only person Hydra could truly love. A man that you had worked so hard to be his exact replica, the only difference acceptable was height. Hydra had curated you specifically to be his replacement, to carry on the mantle of death, destroying empires in your wake. You had been trained with the same ruthless dogma as him: no mercy, no witnesses, no mistakes. Those three principles were always on a dull repeat in the back of your subconscious

You envied him; his strength, his cunning, but secretly, his freedom. A part of you hated him, being reminded of how many times Hydra compared you to him. They were always saying words along the lines of, “You will always be weaker than him,” during their spiteful reveries.

But now here you were, face to face with that man, completely vulnerable before him, and you don’t know whether you like it or not.

You brush off his gaze, not willing to endure the strange feeling you get within the pit of your stomach whenever you meet his eyes. You look down at your forearms, and you reach up to your scalp, cringing at the feeling of your oily, frayed hair.

“I don’t know that last time I took a bath,” You groan, scratching at your roots, and you whimper when your jagged nails make contact with the dry skin there.

“Wouldn’t you prefer a shower?” Bucky babbled, slightly embarrassed by the image that popped in his head the second you mentioned a bath. He barely knew you, but the way you looked at him sent him reeling.

Your eyes still reeked of innocence and somehow knowing what you had done made your expression slightly unsettling. Usually one would use the stereotyped version of a person with PTSD or some sort of deep trauma, their eyes would appear empty and lifeless, but yours just looked like one of a young hopeful, who had their whole life ahead of them. Bucky could swear that he had never seen such beautiful eyes before. How could they look so sweet, when in actuality they are slightly terrifying.

“No,” you spoke suddenly yet firmly, startling Bucky slightly due to your pause in response.

“O-oh, okay,” Bucky stuttered, “Right this way then,” He stumbled quickly to his feet, nearly tripping over his mass array of blankets on the floor next to the bed.

You stalk behind him, following him slowly towards his bathroom. You wait at the doorway while Bucky scrambles to move a bunch of clutter off of the marble counter. He quickly turns the knobs of the bathtub, the water spurting out, as if it had been rarely used up to that point, building up the ever-so-slightest pressure. You begin to strip your clothes out of habit, and when Bucky finally turns to you, seeing you topless, and already unbuttoning your pants, Bucky scrambles to hold you wrists still.

“No! You don’t have to..do that..anymore,” He murmured, not very surprised how shameless you presented. Hydra treated their assets like new car at the car wash: almost power washing all the blood off them, and often leaving more wounds on their bodies then before they were bathed. Stripped like the first day you were born, they were washed of all the evidence of being a killing machine, but most importantly, being a human being

“Oh, ok,” You murmur, and you wait until Bucky left the room to finish stripping, and finally set yourself in the steaming water. You barely winced as you felt the water sting your open wounds, and it was sickeningly satisfying. Bucky had appeared to put in some sort of bubble bath stuff, and you felt slightly out of place in such a calming environment. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do, oh wait..

“Bucky?” You called out, slightly jumping at the almost immediate response, Bucky sliding his head rough a crack in the door. He was covering his eyes with his cybernetic palm,

“Yeah?” You see his eyebrows furrow and mouth curl into a small smile when he hears you let out a small laugh at his antics.

“Can you wash my hair? I-I don’t remember how.” You ask gingerly, and hear him let out a small sigh when he hears the tremble in your voice.

“Of course, did the bubbles work by the way? Wanna make sure I don’t see anything you don’t want me to see.”

“Yeah, its fine, there’s so many, you should be fine,” You murmur, and Bucky takes that as permission to open his eyes, entering the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him. He finally looks at you, and sees just the apex of your chest, and the delicate dips in your collarbones. You can see the familiar tinge of pink return to his cheeks and the very tips of his ears, yet you remain blissfully unaware of your effects on him. Bucky approached, grabbing a stool he kept in his storage closet, bringing it to the edge of the bathtub. He still towered over you, and he hesitantly grabbed his shampoo, opened his fleshed palm, and coated it with the soapy substance.

“I’m going to touch you now, ok?” He warned quietly, and you let out a small hum of encouragement. You turned, letting your back face Bucky. Bucky’s eyes couldn’t help but wander, and despite all the scars lettering your skin, he still thought it looked incredibly soft to the touch. He shook himself out of his thoughts, getting back to the task at hand. When his hand finally reaches your scalp, you flinch involuntarily. When Bucky starts to pull away, you grab his wrist tightly, making him yelp. You loosen immediately, a flash of embarrassment crossing your features.

“Sorry, I uh- I didn’t mean to flinch, I just- my body expects the worst. Keep going,” You murmured, and Bucky nods, starting to slowly massage your scalp, and immediately sigh in relief, finally letting your guard down enough to close your eyes. Your body finally seemed to understand that Bucky wasn’t here to hurt you, that this wasn’t just a dream, only to be woken back up into the monotonous hell you had been dealing with for what seemed like centuries.

You and Bucky fall into a steady rhythm, he would lather the soap into your hair several times, and you would bring up your knees, trying to cover yourself enough so that when Bucky used the detachable shower head to rinse it out, it would wash away all the bubbles. The warm water soothed your sore muscles, and you felt your cracked, withered skin replenish. You were basically half plant after all, so water was one of the only solaces you had when you were being kept by Hydra.

As Bucky continued to wash your hair, you began to think about what a life outside of Hydra could possibly mean for you.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you do when you escaped Hydra?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- what was like, the first thing you wanted to do when you first realized you were free?”

“Hmm, I think was actually washing my hair. It was always so dirty. Felt good to have it clean.”

“Yeah, but like, what sort of activity, something not out of necessity, but just because you wanted to?”

Bucky thought for a moment, pausing his ministrations,

“I’m not sure if I remember, cause I was kinda on the run for a while. I guess the only time I had a moment to myself was in Wakanda, and I got to tend to a small farm they gave me. I would just wake up every morning, look out on the lake for a while, and then go feed the goats. It was this nice routine I had, and it felt like I actually had some, calm, in Wakanda.”

“What’s Wakanda?”

“Oh right, it’s this country that only came on the map a few years ago, its like this hidden sanctuary in Africa. It’s hard to describe, so you’ll have to just see for yourself.”

You turned your head to the side, finally looking at him since he came into the bathroom. You nervously stared into his steady blues,

“Am I going to Wakanda?”

“Yes actually, you’re going to meet my friend Shuri, she’s going to help you.”

“When do I get to go?”

“I’m not sure. You might need to wait a bit,”

“Bucky?” You ask hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come with me? To Wakanda?” Bucky lets out a small laugh, rubbing your shoulder affectionately, trying to calm your nerves.

“Of course I’m coming with you, Y/n. You’re not going to do this alone, I’ll be with you 100% of the way.” You think for a moment, and you place a shaky hand onto Bucky’s where it rests on your shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m just really scared.”

“I know you are. I was the same way, so I’m going to try and make you feel a little less scared ok?” He looks at you with a small smile, and you finally let a small smirk show on your face, and Bucky’s grows even wider. You take a moment before finally asking him something that’s been on your mind.

“Can I go outside?”

It had been a week and a half until you finally got your answer. Bucky insisted on having you meet everyone in the place you were staying, so they wouldn’t freak out when the deadly plant lady finally got to touch some grass. He didn’t use those words specifically, but you had deduced it from all the worried glances the rest of the ‘Avengers’ would look at Bucky with trepidation before shaking your hand. You expected people to be scared of you, hell you were scared of yourself. You constantly had to check in with yourself, taking a deep breath just to remind yourself that being a killing machine isn’t supposed to be your identity anymore. Bucky assured you to be patient, and as soon as Steve agreed to the idea, he’d bring you out to the nicest natural setting outside the compound.

You had barely spoken to anyone, aside from Bucky, and occasionally Steve. He had been happy to help you with any questions you had regarding to going about your new life in a world with technologies you have yet to comprehend. You were willing to give a small grimace that resembled a smile to anyone else in passing, but it had been more difficult to keep quiet in the last couple days. The almost animalistic instinct you had to touch something natural and made of soil, instead of cold metal, was beginning to greatly decrease your patience. You were willing to be ‘reformed’, but if they were going to subject you to this form of unintended torture any longer, you were afraid you were going to snap. You tried to ignore it for as long as possible, afraid that if you touch any aspect of nature, you would turn into her.

It didn’t work, given the state you’re currently are in, seated at the marbled kitchen island, Bucky cooking you both breakfast. He had finally convinced you to not hide away whenever you ate. You reluctantly sat there, holding a simple black mug, filled with a new tea brew that Wanda had made for you before she went off to training this morning. You hadn’t sipped from it just yet, knowing the teabag hadn’t fully incorporated yet. You picked up the string, swirling the teabag around, trying to speed up the process.

Meanwhile Bucky was humming an unfamiliar tune, surprisingly chipper. He was making you pancakes like he had promised, and he had his gaze trained on the pan, holding a spatula in his fleshed hand, while holding the pan handle with his bionic one. After a few moments, you finally blew onto the hot liquid, and took a small sip. Flavor notes of chamomile filled your senses, and instead of bringing a sense of warm calm, everything metallic you touched began to burn, as if your skin was allergic. You let out an uncomfortable groan, dropping the mug, not even flinching when you felt the tea burn your forearms. Bucky whipped his head around, and when he saw your skin red and inflamed, he called out your name, switching off the stove, completely disregarding the pancakes he had been so focused on prior. You didn’t even register his calls for you, stumbling off the barstool, running towards the sunspot, that was coming through the glass wall in the kitchen. As soon as your skin hit the sunlight, you felt a slight relief, the burn marks on your skin not stinging nearly as much. After a moment, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and you instinctually grab the wrist attached, nearly snapping it if it wasn’t for Bucky’s quick maneuvers.

“Hey! Y/N! It’s just me? What’s wrong? You burned yourself!” He stumbled, his eyes flitting across your features with worry. You relax slightly into his touch, but you can still feel an uncomfortable buzz throughout your body.

“I’m fine, I just really need to go outside.” You say through clenched teeth, trying not to lash out. You could easily break the glass, and run towards the forest you see on the horizon. It’s as if there was a string attached to you, and the tree line, and instead of an annoying pull ever once in a while, it was as if the string hooked into your skin, dragging you towards it.

“Y/N, I can’t…I need to ask Steve.” Bucky explains, unsure. You rip away your grip from his, and you struggle to breathe properly in the highly controlled atmosphere.

“Bucky, I need to go. Now. It feels like my body’s on fire.” You growl, stepping back into the sunspot on the floor, trying to control yourself from losing control. You begin to feel her presence, and you’re very scared at the possibility of hurting someone if you don’t get some fresh air.

“Y/n..” Bucky starts, but you hush him with a loud yell,

“If I don’t go out right now, I won’t hesitate to break this goddamn glass.”

“I need to talk to Steve,” Bucky pleaded with you but you shake your head furiously. You finally make eye contact with him, and when he sees a dreadful shade of violet flash in your eyes, you see him tense.

“Bucky, I don’t want to hurt you, please, just let me out, I won’t become her if you let me out, I promise,” You beg him, your breathing beginning to pick up in rapid pace. Bucky thinks for a moment, and he finally speaks,

“Friday open the closet exit, and alert Steve that I’m taking Y/n for a walk,”

“Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers has not authorized…”

“Do it, or we’ll be in a lot of trouble..” Bucky interrupted her with a yell, and Friday seemed to sense his desperation, and when the glass wall slowly started to slide open, you immediately ran through, charging through the open field towards the forest.

“Y/N!” Bucky yelled after you, running after you. When he finally catches up to you, he finds you hunched over on all fours. Your hands were digging into the ground, digging through the layer of pine needles just to calm yourself down. Bucky breathes a sigh of relief when you finally meet his gaze. He finds no traces of the deadly Belladonna, just a calm, content look on your face. He kneels down next you, and when he finally has the courage to place a fleshed hand on your shoulder, you lean into his touch, finally relaxed. You take a deep, shuddered sigh, and you sit back on your heels, your fingernails detaching from the soil.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” You murmur, your actions finally catching up to you know that your body wasn’t having a complete meltdown.

“It’s ok, you just gotta tell me what happened, I was really worried about you for a minute there,” Bucky assured you, his thumb making small circles just below the dip in your shoulder, and you let out another sigh, letting Bucky relieving the tension trapped there.

Before you could speak, you hear heavy footsteps approaching, crushing the dead pine needles covering the forest floor. You both turn to see Steve, surprisingly out of breath. You see that he’s drenched in sweat, since at this time in the morning he’s leading training with the early birds of the compound. You feel regret seep into your veins when you see the frown on his face.

“Bucky what the hell happened?” Steve grumbled, running a hand through his sweaty locks. He towers over the both of you, and Bucky struggles to find an excuse, not understanding what happened himself.

“I’m sorry Steve, I just needed to go outside.” You sigh, finally standing up from your position, head bowed, ready to be reprimanded by the Captain.

“Couldn’t you have asked me first? You know that you can’t just leave until we know that…” Steve starts, but pauses before he says something he’ll regret, yet you hear him loud and clear. Anger boils in your system, and you cant help but meet his gaze with a cold stare.

“Look, I know that everyone’s afraid I’m gonna go out and kill somebody if I do something as much as touch a tree, but that’s not how it works. I’m basically half human half plant, I need to get some sunlight every once in a while,” You growl, angry that everything had to be blown out of proportion.

“Y/n..” Bucky starts but you interrupt him,

“I’m not done. You know how if you leave a houseplant out of the sun, that they start to wither? Same rules apply to me, except to my body. Hydra used to keep me out of sunlight, and only let me out whenever they needed me for a mission. They had me on the brink of death constantly, and when it got really bad, I’d break out of programming and kill a bunch of guards just so I could go outside, which in result lead to more torture. So unless you want to deal with Belladonna, I suggest you let me go outside when I need to.” You finish, and you only met with shocked stares from both super soldiers, Steve more so than Bucky.

“I’m sorry Y/n..I just..” Steve starts but you rest a feeble hand on his brows shoulder, looking at him with a reassuring gaze.

“It’s ok, I should’ve told you guys sooner. I was scared that I’d lose it if i went out outside, but after nearly losing it from not going outside, I might as well tell you guys the reason.” You say with a light laugh, trying to cover the anxiety boiling beneath your skin from just having to talk about details from your life from Hydra. You sigh before continuing, “I want to follow your guys’ rules, I really do, but I will lose my fucking mind if you make me stay in that building made entirely out of metal 24/7,”

“Okay, know that you explain it, I feel like a dick keeping you cooped up in there for nearly two weeks,” Steve laughs somberly, and you give him a slight smile. You turn to Bucky,

“That reminds me, when can I go to Wakanda? I don’t want to have this happen again. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore,” You practically beg him, reaching out to hold his hands. You feel bad for touching after a moment, forgetting you literally have dirt caked underneath your fingernails, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind with the small smile he gives you when you finally touch him willing for what felt like millennia. What you didn’t know was that Bucky secretly reveled in your touch, something about it made his nerves go haywire, and he’s not exactly sure where it comes from. All he knows that he doesn’t want to live in a world without it. After a moment, Bucky gives Steve a questioning glance, and Steve gives a small nod, a guilty look on his face. Bucky meets your desperate gaze, and gives you a smile that reveals his dimples, making you automatically smile in return.

“I’ll give Shuri a call,”

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mgsapphire · 3 years

Text

A dystopia where sorority is weaponized...?

Ethology (Study of Animal Behavior)

Something that seemed interesting to me since the beginning of the series is how Kang Yo Han perceived himself as an outsider. It is not that he is rich and enjoys chaos, but that he has always been excluded from society due to his upbringing, in which he was isolated. He learned about human interactions from books and that one maid. He's not part of humanity but an outsider that is fascinated by how predictable their behavior can be.

As part of his upbringing and the trauma he holds, he's also very aware of the darkest parts of humans, and I bet if he were to be asked if humans are inheretly good or bad, he would respond that they're merely animals of instinct with a hyper developed sense of self. As in, humans, for him, will only look after themselves and no one else.

Adding to this, in the latest episode, when Kim Ga On tries to attack him because he thinks he was involved in the incident surrounding Yoon Soo Hyun, he reacts aggresively, showing an act of dominance, but when you analyze the scene closely, you realize it was a self preservation act. A trauma response, if you will. He hates being touched due to the abuse he endured.

What is family?

Something that I loved about this particular scene, and why I screenshoted it despite the awkwardness it has in it, is not that they're having a tender moment between the three, or that there's a table full of food, or even the fact that Kang Yo Han is acting childish but the reason why he's acting childish.

He views Ms. Ji as a mother figure, and she caught him red handed doing something he has never done for her. Kang Yo Han definitely has felt sorry for her multiple times, but I bet this was bad because he doesn't know how to react.

It is not that Yo Han grew up without a family, but that his family was weird, and at the center of it was Ms. Ji, who he has come to disappoint due to piled up misunderstandings. Kang Yo Han does love her, but he doesn't know how to face her disappointment, and the pain he has caused her.

For Kang Yo Han, family is something you protect and care for silently, because he was never at the forefront of it. Also, in this shot, other things we can see, is how he feels about the rest of his "family" based on how he paces the room and the distance he has from them.

Another scene that is worth noting under this title is the one in which we can see how deep the misunderstandings and miscommunications between Yo Han and Elijah run. It is not that there isn't love between them, but that when we face grief, we also wish to put blame on someone. Elijah puts blame on Yo Han to deal with her grief, and Yo Han just takes it without explaining his actions.

It is fair that Elijah feels that way, because in trying to protect her, Yo Han, instead, seems to communicate he wants to control her and that he doesn't trust her.

It is not until they face their own pain, that they'll be able to understand each other.

What kind of coin are we tossing now?

You remember how I said Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On are two sides of the same coin? A duality of sorts? I think the same can be said about Kang Yo Han and Jeong Seon A. But this isn't a coin that's set by Yo Han. If anything, he's trying to run from the world Jeong Seon A has built and where she wants to position him.

They're both manipulative beings but for completely different purposes and completely different roots. If anything, we can see them as a form of convergent evolution - when completely different species develop similar traits- they became the way they were due to completely different reasons. They may look similar on the outside, but their core values and motives are so far parallel lines, they will not touch.

On one hand, Ms. Jeong is like that due to the inferiority complex she had when young, and her disdain for the rich, her manipulative tactics were a way to climb up and gain. On the other hand, Judge Kang became that way as a mean to escape abuse and to protect himself from further harm. You see? In a way, they both became the way they did due to survival, and have therefore, developed the same skills, despite how different they are.

Judge Kang is a shark and Ms. Jeong is a dolphin.

How Ms. Jeong uses her position as a woman to her advantage.

Am I obsessed with the perceived villain of the story? Yes. We ought to talk about how Ms. Jeong has played her game so far. She's never the one in power in front of others, she's but a messenger, and a messenger can never be shot. It's common courtesy.

Furthermore, Ms. Jeong, aware that others perceive women as weak, takes this to her advantage. That's why she's able to do it all in the shadows. Only two people have seen through her, and that's because she likes Judge Kang too much, and because Minister Cha became a small fish entangled in the fight between two particularly smart species.

Once again, I have to compliment how this is masterfully conveyed through the cinematography of the show. In the first shot (that I put in the bottom for some reason), she's but a wallflower, not meant to be seen or heard, letting Minister Cha be perceived as the one of power in the room.

When alone, she positions herself in the same place Minister Cha was just on, and spreads herself. Her body language, and the way the scene is shot is enough to convey how truly powerful she is.

Knowing that women are perceived as weak, she uses other women to get her means, because they will pass under the radar in front of arrogant men who think themselves the center of attention. The cards she plays always involve a woman:

Enhacing Minister Cha's motherhood to incite public empathy.

Manipulating the wives and not the husbands.

Planting a seed in Judge Oh to change the system.

Having her assistant be a woman.

Presenting herself as a compassionate secretary.

This kind of attention to character building and complexity is to be commended, but I can't help but realize this is also a script written by a man. Why must sorority be weaponized for a story to move forward? Still, it is quite the fresh take.

Manipulating the public's opinion is easier than one may think at first

A big part of the message tried to convey by The Devil Judge is how dangerous media representation and authority bias can be. It is no secret.

It does it in both subtle and forefront ways. On the former, it does it by showing parts where Minister Cha is rallying for sympathy from the viewers, where hypocrisy is shown, or well, where people seem to have woken up from the daze they were in. Meaning, they begin to question the actions perceived as immoral, absolving themselves from it. Another example is the president portraying himself as normal.

In less subtle ways, but way more gutural is the way kids were playing about flogging and how, because Judge Kang viewed it as just, his fanatics started mimicking and distorting the behavior in a vigilante manner.

This reminds me a lot of the Milgram Experiment once again, where because there's no authority putting a limit, those underneath continue to push despite their awareness of possible harm and immorality of their actions.

Here, terms as authority bias, Argument from authority, belief perseverance are important. A similar experiment is that of The Third Wave movement, where a teacher explained by demonstration how easy it is to manipulate the masses to have a certain set of beliefs, despite their own morality.

#kang yo han #kim ga on #tvn the devil judge #the devil judge #kdrama #kdrama recommendations #tvn drama #tvn #kdrama commentary #opinion #rant #kdrama analysis #analysis #kdrama meta #essay

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astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

warnings: brief and indirect mentions of abuse/trauma

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

[A/N:] this is a repost of chapter 1 because my masterlist is being fucky

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furiousgoldfish · 3 years

Text

Personal post about trauma under the cut, extremely upsetting content, do not read if you had narcissistic parents and don't wanna get triggered, I am very sad and mad and it's hard to talk about this. TW child labor, child torture, brainwashing, death threats, narcissistic abuse.

I was a hardworking child, I was happy and excited to work, I wanted to be a part of everything that's being done. I noticed work warranted for people to get respect, food, praise, acceptance, and I wanted to work hard so I too would be a part of that. My family lived in a rural area, they kept animals, grew fields of crops, were always in some sort of construction work, so me always being eager to work was pretty much ideal for them, or you'd think that it was. You'd think that.

I was working eagerly and I realized, that unlike for adults, I don't get respect, praise, acceptance, or sometimes even food. It was for some reason denied to me only. And I was still happy to work because I chased that feeling of personal accomplishment, even if there was no rewards. And again, you'd think this is perfectly convenient and ideal to parents who wanted free labour and to give no recognition or praise in return. You'd think that.

But it wasn't enough for them. Father got this idea to take me out to work with him alone, away from home. I remember the place we went to, only as a place I need burned down to the ground before I could breathe again. It was a demolition-construction of a house, and I don't remember how many time I've been there. All I know is, after first few times, I no longer wanted to go. I begged not to go.

I am guessing my father could not bear the looks of me working happily, or even working silently. Me doing everything I was told was not fun enough for him– so he would give me false instructions. As an easy setup for punishment. I did exactly what I was told, and would get screamed at and beaten up. Then forced to keep working in tears, shaking, terrified, injured, while being further berated. And that was only the start.

Even as a child, I was diligent and responsible about doing work, and I know I was getting things done just fine, because, I was doing the sibling's share of chores too. If siblings were called to work, they would simply mess up on purpose so I would be told to repeat it after them, correctly. Sometimes siblings would have me do it and take the credit, which I didn't mind because working made me feel better about myself. It made me feel useful. My mind was already dissociated from my body to the point where I no longer felt exhaustion, pain, strain, or any physical effect work was having on me. I would get berated and shamed if I showed signs of being tired or strained. So my body disregarded it all.

And yeah, that wasn't enough either. I was still sometimes feeling okay. If I was allowed to work alone, and let my mind wonder, if nobody commented on it I knew it was okay.

So this is where they decided to take a step further and disallow me to feel okay at any point. I was humiliated while working to the point of tears. I'd be ridiculed in front of guests. I could no longer enjoy my own thoughts, but constant criticism, insults, accusations and humiliation was raining down on me at every step. And when I was done, with tremendous effort it took to endure this, I would be told 'It would have been better if you had done nothing.' So my insane effort to endure abuse to get things done, was rendered worthless in a second.

Father kept taking me away to work alone with him, and forced me to listen to his monologues, which I hated, because he was boring, wrong and self-obsessed, but I wasn't allowed to say that, or argue. My silent compliance was never enough. He had to hit me. He had to find something to berate me over. He kept inventing reasons. I would clean his entire garage and he'd move a steel closet I couldn't possibly move and berate me for not cleaning under it.

I had a log thrown into my head, causing a head injury, and I had to keep working. I fell and fractured my shoulder so badly I could barely walk; I was brought to a forest to drag logs around, too heavy for me to lift. I was sometimes orchestrated to get injured; father would start a trailer I was standing on the edge of, and forced me to fall by quickly moving forward just enough. I was still expected to work after that. He hit me with a blunt edge of an axe and berated me for standing there. I was told to 'not expect a lift to the hospital'. I was brought to work while starved, grieving, suicidal. I was lied to about where I was going and what would I be doing, and for how long. I was never allowed to stop working.

And the game of giving me wrong instructions and punishing me for doing it 'wrong' never stopped. I caught on and begged for correct instructions. I would ask to explain, how to do it, to show me, anything. 'HOW OLD are you not to know this? I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU! YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS BY NOW!' And by his rage, I could tell that if I don't do it any way I knew how, I'd be punished instantly. I had no choice but to try – and of course fail, and feel horribly ashamed for 'deserving to get beat up'. Eventually my brain started shortcircuiting at the simplest tasks, I would mess up because I was in terror. I couldn't think.

At this point, I no longer wished to work for people who would inflict violence on me. And that is when I was quckly informed that if I didn't work, I would be killed. Not in those words. It was 'You have to work if you want to live!' followed by 'We can kick you out and you will starve on the street. Nobody will take you in. There is no place for you. Nobody wants someone like you. You don't deserve to eat if you don't work.' My choices were taken away. If I still refused, the result would be to beat me and force me to work injured, shaking and crying.

All this, for what? I would have been HAPPY to work. I would have been chasing my little daydreams and singing the pokemon tune, and if I was ever praised, I'd be the happiest kid on the block. I was a kid who liked to work. I wanted minimal fairness, minimal acknowledgment. To be a part of the family. Only that.

It just wouldn't do for the narcssistic father. Watching a child be broken, terrified and shaking, crying, ashamed, guilty, working past exhaustion, in injuries, was just too tempting for him to pass up. Even free labor wasn't worth to him as much as the pleasure of child torture. He needed that like it was a drug. What kind of a sick high did he experience, breaking a defenseless kid? What kind of pleasure did it entail, getting someone rid of their natural happiness to work? Was it fun, tearing me into pieces, over and over again? Does he remember it as a delicious, satisfying pleasure? Does he daydream about it? He knew it was wrong; he forced me to stop crying and hide the tears before we went home. 'Don't say anything to your mother.' I was told before being stuffed back in his car.

And now... I can't work. I can't even move sometimes. It was torn away from me. My ability to work was ripped away from my child body when I had no way to defend it or to grab it back and protect what is mine. I can't work anymore. It's terrifying. It terrifies me to not work. Because I was made aware working is the only thing keeping me alive, and capitalism confirms this, so I remain to forever fight with myself about how even if everyone says otherwise, I still deserve to live. Heartbroken, abandoned, with my basic human abilities stripped from me. It doesn't make me deserving to die.

I am so angry and sad. If I had my natural ability to work back, I'd be fine. I would be able to live safely. I wouldn't spiral into feeling like an unworthy member of society. I learned to survive very insecurely like this, but I hate every second of it. To know that instead of this insane uncertainty, anxiety, guilt for being bedridden, guilt for existing and not moving, I could have just found a job, have normal income? I can't bear it. I can't bear knowing this was wrenched away from me, because it was pleasurable to do so, because tearing me into pieces was a fun hobby for people who didn't care if what they were doing to me killed me. And I couldn't have done anything to stop it. And I'm like this now. Unable to take any more torture, unable to endure any more of being triggered, wondering if I would die from lack of resources, or would my body fail permanently in attempts to process all the exhaustion and pain I was dissociated from for my entire childhood.

How was this worth it. How it could have been worth it to anyone, destroying someone's ability to work, only because it's pleasurable. I felt the plan was to work me until I no longer could do it, then kill me. It's what they did to animals. And I was told I was more worthless than an animal. I was called lazy and a monstrous name I can't even translate, that implied I was burdening everyone with my existence.

It was even a bigger punch to my face to realize, after I escaped, that he was profiting from everything I did. That it would have taken money – way more than was ever spent on my survival, to get all that labor done. He was profitting while telling me I was worthless and don't deserve to eat or sleep in his house. He is now renting the place I was broken to help build. I was torn apart and he is still benefiting from it. And I have nothing. Not even a functional body to work with anymore.

I know I'm not the only person who was constantly left alone with narcissists as a child and had this, or worse, done to them. They don't care which pieces of children are left over by the time they're done getting their high. We're only a thing to consume, not living beings, not people, not someone whose life matters. Our pain is food to them. My father readily became a predator who snached his own kid away for torture sessions, and felt proud and fulfilled to turn his own child into a creature who cannot work anymore to survive.

Don't leave children alone with narcissists. I am trying so hard to get better, but facing reality, is this a thing a person gets better from? It's not a bodily harm of once or twice, this was happening for the most majority of my lifetime. It makes sense I cannot move. It makes sense I'm terrified to be triggered into this. It makes sense I can barely bear the reality of it. A person tortured hundreds of times wont just get up and walk away. I can't either. I have to lie here and hope that one day it will get better.

If you read thru all this, and you relate to the parts of this story, know that I am so sorry for what you were put thru. It's devastating and horrenous. If this is how you grew up, it would have been better not to have a family. We all should have been protected from this.

#trauma #personal #i never told anyone about this #don't have the courage #i can only type it online #tw child abuse #tw physical violence #abusive parents #narcissistic abuse #child labor

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mangora · 3 years

Text

I haven’t fully talked about my system headcanons but I wanted to hop on the trend so here’s how I see them

Mike Chiarelli: Host & Core, ~17, Bi & ace masc non-binary (he/they), Italian/Peruvian, holds some trauma from his younger years but not much from between like 6-13 (their trauma was reoccurring/prolonged due to their living situation)

Mal Grimoire: Protector but was a persecutor for a while (13-17), became their gatekeeper in juvie but Manitoba took over while he was dormant (later regained some control to keep the others from fronting in all stars; wasn’t always successful), ~18, Aroace gay non-binary (he/they/xe/grim), Ambiguous, the primary trauma holder

Vito Valentino: Sexual alter and somewhat protector, ~19, Bi cis guy (he/him), Italian (also he’s Jewish, bingo bongo), holds most of their sexual trauma and manages most of their physical relationships but knows how to protect them if things go downhill (usually only engages if Mike or one of the others is approached first)

Svetlana Berezovsky: Caretaker, age slides from about 16-25, Ace trans lesbian (she/her), Russian, holds little to no trauma, mostly cares for their littles and fragments (who rarely if everyone front) but can help the other main alters deal with their emotions and trauma

Chester Young: Internal self helper, ~70, Aroace non-binary (he/they), Ambiguously Eastern European (doesn’t remember exactly where) and Mexican, holds little to no trauma as well but is aware of the others’, an introject of Mike’s paternal grandfather, somewhat functions as a protector but his main purpose is helping everyone understand what’s going on

Manitoba Smith: Current main gatekeeper, age slides from 20-35, Also aroace non-binary/trans (was AFAB, IDs as more masculine, he/they/it), Aboriginal Australian, not a trauma holder, somewhat an introject of Indiana Jones

There are some other alters but these are the main six who show up the most and have the most responsibility in the system. Most of the others are littles or fragments who they rarely if ever interact with (most of them aren’t really aware of them besides Svetlana and Chester)

General Headcanons:

•The body is about AMAB, 6’8” and pretty strong/flexible even if they’re skinny. They have naturally curly hair but most of them straighten it. They have ADHD but I’ve been thinking about them possibly having autism and tourettes. They have a lot of scars from Juvie and their home life, once again something they mostly like to cover up. Mal and Mike identify with the body the most while Manitoba does the least.

•Their trauma was caused by their parents’ neglect and abuse which they endured until about 13 when Mal was sent to juvie and an investigation was opened on their home life. After being freed around 14 and a half they moved in with their uncle vinnie and aunt carla. Their grandfather lived with them until seven, then passed away, and seeing as he was one of their only supportive family members and the only competent adult in their household, that’s how Chester came to be

•They all have very different senses of style. Mike is very casual and usually wears T-shirts and jeans, Mal likes dark and non-revealing clothes like turtlenecks and sweats, Vito on the contrary likes more revealing clothes and specifically anything resembling Italian American fashion from the 50s (think leather jackets and belts), Chester likes anything old school (mostly button-ups and khaki shorts or long skirts, also wears glasses and jewelry), Svetlana likes athletic clothes as well as anything soft in color, and Manitoba of course leans more towards explorer clothes similar to Indiana Jones’.

•Mal and Vito can speak Italian but it’s unclear if for Mal it’s because he’s part Italian or if it was a sort of survival skill he picked up from speaking with their parents

•Chester was a punk ass bitch during his college days and probably threw bricks at rich people’s houses I will die on my riot grrrl Chester headcanon he’s not a Tory he’s swag as fuck and a historian

•Mal is pretty much always on survival mode so he has some issues with eating and showering (will often go a long time without doing either and/or refuse to waste anything when he has the chance). Zoey and Cameron have helped him with this significantly

•Mal adopted a stray cat i will die on this hill he just took it home one day and scared the shit out of everyone with it but it’s baby so he got to keep it and it’s the only animal he loves. Its name is Chips

•On the whole they’re relatively nice to each other at this point and like each other but they’ve definitely had gripes (Mike and Mal are often concerned by Vito and Manitoba putting the body in danger, Mal doesn’t like them forming new relationships, Svetlana and Chester don’t like when they try to hide their disorder, exc.).

•They leave each other post it notes a lot and sometimes it’s sweet but most of the time it’s “If you don’t take out the trash today I’m deleting your Spotify playlist”

•Theyre all very protective of Cameron and Zoey (and also Chips the cat)

#also for the record I don’t ship anyone with anyone else besides Mike but if your interpretations of Svetlana mal Vito or manitoba are (1/2)#the same age range as the other cast members I think it’s fine for you to ship them #I’m here to spread my hardcore grandpa chester propaganda #td mal #td mike #td manitoba #td svetlana #td chester #td vito #tw trauma mention

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linkspooky · 4 years

Text

We’re the Same, You and I.

It’s a classic villain line, but it’s also true. Heroes and villains aren’t born in My Hero Academia, they’re made. Despite what hero society a lot of what propels people towards hero or villainry is just circumstances. There’s no better demonstration of this then Midoriya, and Shigaraki who have the exact origin point but because of circumstances were pushed in complete opposite directions. People are not good or evil. People are mainly reacting to circumstances and struggling to get through them.

Deku and Shigaraki can be so similiar on the inside, and so different on the outside because what they’ve experienced is different. That’s important, because the world is not fair. Rather than blaming people for what they’ve endured, and struggled against in an unfair world, or trying to fix the circumstances of the world heroes instead villaiize victims of circumstance.

1. Good Victim / Bad Victim

Shigaraki and Deku is the same. There’s a nature vs. nurture argument in My Hero Academia, where quirk society suggests that people born with more violent, destructive quirks are therefore by nature more prone to destruction in violence. In every single case however we see this is not the case. Tenko destroyed his family by accident, Toga was pushed by familial abuse until she suffered a psychological break, the destructive potential of Twice’s quirk only came about because he was poor and homeless. He was just a delivery guy before that point.

Gran Torino suggests the idea that there’s no way Shigaraki can be saved or reformed, as if Shigaraki decided to become a villain on his own. Despite knowing how manipulative a person AFO is.

There is a double standard in regards to victims known as Good Victim, Bad Victim. It’s the idea that instead of the idea that all humans react badly when placed in stressful situations, there are good ways to react to abuse, and bad ones. It fits with the double standard of hero soecity, people who are meek, quiet, victims like Eri are saved, while little Tenko who was ragged, ugly, and violently lashed out against his father in self defense nobody even lifts a finger to save.

It goes beyond that though, what Gran Torino is suggesting that if Shigaraki Tomura were a good person, he would have somehow held onto that goodness despite being a manipulated and abused by a crimminal mastermind for fifteen years. That if Shigaraki were a good person, he just somehow magically would not react to trauma, or abuse, and would magically break free from AFO’s control with magic and sunshine.

It’s an idea that ultimately blames victims for the abuse they are put under. It suggests that somehow Shigaraki deserved the abuse that he was put through, because he was bad all along from the start.

A morality trope about the arbitrary distinctions writers make between certain sorts of victims. If a character in fiction has a problem or ailment or social situation, and the creators intend him to be sympathetic, the character will have acquired the problem in the most socially acceptable way. If the character isn't sympathetic, then he will have contracted the illness through "your own damn fault".

By suggesting that Shigaraki was born bad and circumstance has nothing to do it, it puts all the fault for Shigaraki’s badness on Shigaraki himself. Therefore, Gran Torino remains morally pure. Nothing about the world around them needs to be corrected. Nothing about Gran Torino needs to be corrected. It is always the victim’s fault for acting the way they do, and not the cirumcstances that drove them to act that way.

Yes, victims are still responsible for their reactions. Yes, being a victim doesn’t mean you get to lash out and not be responsible for the people you hurt. However, people can be both villains and victims at the same time. Nobody deserves to have gone through what Shigaraki went through. By invalidating his victimhood and suggesting Shigaraki only became this way through his OWN DAMN FAULT, all it means is more victims will be ignored. Good victim bad victim is bad because it moralizes victimhoods around arbitrary lines. Usually around what’s a “socially acceptable” reaction to victimhood. (Whatever that means).

Tenko was just a normal kid. Not only that, most normal people would react that with if exposed to Tenko’s cirucmstances. Most people aren’t extraordinarily good or extraordinarily bad with a few outliars, most people are reacting to circumstances. Almost any normal person would be that way if they were exposed to Tenko’s circumstances and we know this because, the league is made out of people who are just like Tenko, and who all started out as normal kids. However, circumstances can change, and people can change. Rather than trying for that result, Hero Society focuses on punishing it’s worst victims.

“The point is: People improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don’t?”

The league shows improvement when they are exposed to trust, and compassion with one another.

By choosing between good and bad people to save, the people who are suffering the worst will never get the help they need. As Shigaraki’s speech affirmed this later, Heroes aren’t for protecting the worst victims who need the most saving, they sheperd the majority and exclude the minority.

This even extends to what Dabi asks Tokoyami. Who is it that is most in need of saving?

The hero kids this entire arc have moved to protect the pro heroes. However, not only are the pro heroes guilty of bringing the kids into a warzone without permission in the first place and putting them in danger. Pro Heroes are also, at fault for most of society’s ills because they contribute to the problems of society that villains are blamed for. Parental abuse, Homelessness, Quirk Discrimmination, Shigaraki’s entire life, all of the villains are the victims of the worst abuse and rather than rehabilitate them the heroes have been violently beating them down all this time. The heroes have blood on their hands because they’ve been beating down victims and punishing them all this time and making things worse, but they never have to bear any responsibility for that because all blame falls on victims.

2. Deku is Given Everything

One of the most important parts of Shigaraki’s foiling with Deku is that everything that Shimura Tenko should have had, Deku was given instead. Gran Torino victim blames Shigaraki for trampling over Shimura Nana’s memory.

However, it’s Gran Torino who made the choice to ignore Nana’s final wishes. Nana’s wish was for Kotaro to live a happy life apart from her, and unaffected by both her decisions, and whatever AFO was planning to do to her.

However, Shigaraki is continually punished over and over again because he just happened to be born as Shimura Tenko, Shimura Nana’s grandson. It was Gran Torino’s responsibility to make sure that Kotaro, and her family was protected from AFO but he failed that. When he still had a chance to help Nana’s last remaining family member, he neglected that instead. The one trampling all over Nana’s legacy is Gran Torino, because he refuses to honor her wish to protect her last living family member. Gran Torino blames Shigaraki, because he can’t face the fact that he himself made the wrong choice.

Shigaraki started with the exact same origin point as Deku. However, Deku was helped by All Might. The things that Shigaraki should have received Deku was given instead. And I’m not even talking about super powers. I’m talking about help on the most basic level.

All Might and Gran Torino knew about Kotaro, and knew that he might be targeted. Rather than checking up on him, they ignored him for years. Even after learning about Shigaraki’s circumstances, they still chose to ignore rather than even make the attempt to do something about it.

Shigaraki’s arc is one of losing things over and over again, whereas Deku’s arc is being given things. Deku is saved by All Might finding him that day and telling him he could become a hero. Shigaraki just needed one person to save him, but All Might didn’t show up that day because he was turning a blind eye to his responsibilities.

Deku is given the help ne needs, when he needs it. Whereas, Shigaraki is never helped. Deku is given two successive mentors due to his connections with All Might, Eraserhead and Gran Torino. He didn’t even earn Gran Torino because he didn’t get far enough or make a good enough impression in the sports festival. Deku’s mentors all make an effort to stay alive and stay with him. (Sir Nighteye was Mirio’s mentor he doesn’t count). Shigaraki loses mentor after mentor.

Shigaraki loses both All For One and Kurogiri, and had to find a way to survive without both of them. AFO deliberately abandoned Shigaraki to retraumatize him and make his hatred towards the heroes worst. All Might makes a promise to stay with Deku, and stay alive, because he knows emotionally Deku needs him.

The things I’m talking about Deku is given are support, stability and a consistent environment. These are things Shigaraki has never had his entire life. All Shigaraki has is violence he’s endured countless times over and over. Deku is given six quirks that he unlocks by having a dream about them. In order to start stacking multiple quirks, Shigaraki has to train in the mountain for a month without sleep in order to prove himself to AFO’s remnants who instead of just giving him a chance constantly force him to prove himself, but he also had to endure months of horribly painful surgery. Retraumatizing himself yet another time, because Shigaraki has been a victim of lifelong experimentation under Ujiko. He was taken in to become an experiment. It’s not really something he can consent to if he was adopted when he was five years old, and then groomed for fifteen years with the expectation that he would submit himself into this surgery in order to become AFO’s proper heir.

The remnants of the OFA quirk try to guide Deku and lend him his strength. The remnants of the AFO quirk only try to control Shigaraki.

Deku is a good boy yes, but is it because he’s inherently a good person or is it because he hasn’t faced what Shigaraki has? Shigaraki is forced again and again to confront the ugliest parts of society, quirk discrimmination, abuse, whereas Deku gets to remain wholly oblivious of them. It’s not even that Deku thinks that Shigaraki is too much of an extremist in trying to correct society, Deku doesn’t even think there’s a problem with the society that created Shigaraki in the first place.

Deku forgives heroes, but not the biggest victims of heroes. He is moving to protect people like Gran Torino, and Endeavor who are both responsible for the creation of Shigaraki. Gran Torino through neglect. Endeavor because he is an abuser just like Kotaro was, and he also, created Dabi who is so much more like Shigaraki. Who is to say that Deku would not have turned out just like Shigaraki if exposed to similiar circumstances? Look at his reaction in the latest chapter.

Dkeu’s reaction, his feral faces, his frothing at the mouth violence all resembles Shigaraki. It’s almost like those who are exposed to violence are pushed to become more violent. Now circcumstances are reversed and Deku sees somebody’s body falling apart, like how his used to when he used the OFA quirk.

Deku’s response is yeah, it’s time to beat the shit out of this guy. Deku’s response to violence is only to become more violent. Not only is he not even trying to overcome the cycle, he’s not even aware the cycle exists. So, then. So then. If Deku can become violent enduring the same violent circumstances that Shigaraki once did. If Deku can become spiteful, hateful, even vengeful.

Then, what exactly is the difference between Shigaraki and Deku? The only difference is what they’ve been through. Shigaraki has been abused more, so he’s crazier that’s all. Who they are inside is the same after all this time. The only difference between them really is that Shigaraki is punching up, while Deku punches down from a position of privilege.

#mha meta #shigaraki meta #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #midoriya izuku #deku #league of villain meta #lov meta #my hero academia meta #my hero academia theory #mha 283 #bnha 283 #mha 283 spoilers #bnha 283 spoilers #my hero academia 283 #boku no hero academia 283

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metanoiamorii · 3 years

Text

Wip Re-Introduction: A Rope In Hand

❛Horror is like a serpent; always shedding its skin, always changing. And it will always come back. It can’t be hidden away like the guilty secrets we try to keep in our subconscious.❜

♧ Title: A Rope In Hand [ARIH]

♧ Status: First Drafting

♧ Point of View: Third Person, flexible between a few

♧ Genre: Dark Fantasy, Supernatural, LGBTQ+, Action, Drama

♧ Warnings: This story revolves around the occult. There will be talk of witch hunts and trials and cults. There will be torture methods used to gain confessions, and these methods will be justified under religious belief. There will be toxic and abusive relationships, particularly family; finding an escape from them, and healing from the trauma. There will be homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, and colonization. There will be major character deaths, but I can spoil after the book ends the main characters do get a happy ending. Each chapter and scene posted will have personalized warnings, but these are the main things to expect.

♧ Featuring: The majority of the characters will be LGBTQ+, from pansexual, homosexual, to asexual; genderfluid, agender/nonbinary, and transgender. Each character is complex and morally grey. Yes, they will do things that are blatantly terrible, or actively good. Overall, they will be morally grey and questionable at best. There will be complex world-building, from both the universe it takes place in, and the religious pantheons brought up. The religions brought up will be polytheistic and animism-themed. The romance between the major characters will be slow-burn enemies to friend to lovers, and them learning to love themselves through one another. There will be an exploration on generational healing, and unlearning toxic, and bias believes.

♧ Setting: The setting is influenced by Victorian London, and Medieval Ireland. There will be mention of other places, primarily western Europe, the Ottoman Empire, Ancient Rome, Eastern Asia, and Napoleonic France.

♧ Synopsis:

In the town of Arkaley, in the northwest of the Duchy of Ruairc, the people have been plagued by bad fortune and crime. Attacks of bandits on the road, raids from pirates on the shores, untimely deaths of children and young women, elected officials coming out corrupt; there is no end in Arkaley of the suffering the locals endure.

Rationally, to explain such a bad string of luck, there is only one possible explanation: Witchcraft.

The Duchy of Ruairc already has a history of witchcraft: the Ó Ruaircs turned out to be witches, the Abondé incident in Salem, the Liathain incident in Trakee; the Ruaircs have their record. Perfectly acceptable for everyone to assume the worse of the Ruairish, as they have proved to be nothing but.

To prove his worth, the young Reverend Prudence Clemency Frye, takes up the task of quelling this coven of witches and heading this witch-hunt. Young and naïve, witch only knowledge from books and little hands-on experience, he’s unprepared for this challenge. When he finally leaves the town, well… everyone would rather put this incident behind them.

♧ Tease:

My darling dear, a knave so clear

You appear, so bravely near;

Do you hear my darling dear, sneers of austere jeers?

Behave, my dear, when I am near;

For peers will lear, in their fear,

Allow me o' dear our persevere

So my fave you appear

And volunteer a slave so dear

in an atmosphere we fear.

my darling dear, wave so clear

Depravely as we leave, and give a souvenir;

My lips to yours, as you crave in these fallin' years.

Be brave darling dear, and give into hearts o' queer.

For mine you be, your darling dear,

To the stars you have swore in love, so crystal clear.

My peers shall sneer, but whore I be, and you I crave

Oh so bare. slurs and glares, just listen to my prayers.

Kiss me love, and leave o'they to a'crave

In this atmosphere that we fear

Their own, o' pure, knave so dear.

♧ Excerpt:

".... This is wrong." Prudence finds the words slipping from his lips, voice a quiet whisper; a breathless tone of voice. He allows his fingertips to falter against scarred skin, watching as Mastema turned his cheek, he pressed himself into the palm of Prudence's hand. Eyes closed, a smile curled on his face. Prudence couldn't help but smile at the scene, but slowly, slowly, slowly, he rescinded his hand; breaking the hold.

"Revered..." Matching his voice, Mastema replied. Maintaining such a soft voice, as he shifted himself forward on the bed. One foot to the ground, the other drawn beneath himself. Over Prudence he leaned, resting one palm to the sheets, the other lifting to seize Prudence's hand before he could recoil back. "You have made me feel something in which I've never felt before..."

From where he laid, Prudence could only form a soft frown. He knew he could draw his hand back, the grip was far from tight. But he didn't. He laid there, allowing Mastema to hold his hand. "... This is wrong, Mastema."

Mastema frowned; he matched the reaction Prudence wore. Through it, he forced a half-smile, tightening his grip on the other's hand, and forward he brought Prudence's hands to kiss the knuckles. "... If this is wrong, I do not wish to be right."

At the response, Prudence shook his head. "It is not for us to be right or wrong, the gods—"

At the angle he sat, Mastema shifted once more. He dropped Prudence's hand, to lean forward; to lean in close. Both of his palms found the other's cheek, as he touched their foreheads to one another. "... Do not force your will onto another." In that soft whisper, he spoke. Eyes closed, breath drawn in. "Is that not a Commandment of our Creator?"

"I..." Prudence faltered. In, he drew his breath, to try to steady himself. "... I did not take you for the religious sorts."

"I'm not." Mastema all too quickly retorted. But as he was, he laid; this proximity. "But you are."

♧ Characters:

The Order of Witchesbane

Prudence Clemency Frye; The Reverend

Half Fae/Half Human • Intersex • Genderfluid • He/They • Homosexual • Homo-demiromantic

The bastard son of Lord Zachariah Frye. Raised by his father, with his mother dying young, he took to following in his footsteps. He became a religious young man and an active witch-hunter. A part of him desires his father’s acceptance, his praises; the other part despises his father and everything the man stands for. In recent years, he has joined the De La Cruz household, becoming an apprentice beneath the famous Witch’s Advocate; upholding the beliefs that not every witch is evil and has foul intentions, and the ones that mean harm are the only ones that should be hunted.

Zachariah Frye; The Bloodhound

Human • Male • He/Him • Bicurious • Aromantic

The oldest living member of the Order. Now he is the man that holds the face of the Order, who you think of when they come to mind. Cold. Vindictive. Despotic. Violent. He is not a good man. He is firm in his beliefs and stubborn to change. Once his mind is made up, he cannot be reasoned with. He is blindly convinced of his beliefs and his cause to eradicate every living witch, unfazed if he has to fill a few innocent thousands in the process.

Calisto Ferzan Hermengildo Melchior Lorencio De La Cruz; The Witch’s Advocate

Half Fae/Half Human • Amab • Nonbinary • Genderfluid • He/They • Asexual • Aromantic

A witch-hunter in title alone, Calisto has been making enemies since he could first talk. He’s always enjoyed being the underdog, going against the expectations of society, being ridiculed by his peers. The sole reason? Proving them wrong. To ridicule his own peers for their outdated beliefs, he’s taken to defending witches, proving them innocent of their ‘crimes’, and going on to help them to set up a life in a country more accepting of witchcraft

The servant of Calisto, never seen far from his side. He is a servant in name alone and is more-or-less an assassin, a hitman for Calisto. Held in contempt by Athylian society for being a foreigner, he often treated by others more as a slave than a servant. To help be unseen, to help the De La Cruz Household, Michelotto endures the treatment and goes as far to be perceived as ignorant, alongside him being born a mute. Keeping his true intents and intelligence duly guarded, only a handful are aware he is also a witch.

Myk'loumihr [Michelotto Dougal] Siavash; The Man-Servant

Witch; Amab • Agender • He/They • Asexual • Aromantic

Austin Duvine; The Lord Without A Ring

Half-Human/Half Fae • Amab • Nonbinary • He/They • Pansexual • Demiromantic

One of the younger members of the order, Austin relies on his father's wealth and name. He doesn't care for responsibilities, he doesn't care for hard work. He's a playboy at heart. He's fit to hold social events, and use his natural talent to gib and fib his way through life. He'll keep his mixed feelings to himself, struggling with doing the right thing or upholding tradition.

Alistair Lavine; The Witchfinder General

Human • Amab • Agender • He/They • Bicurious • Aromantic

The best friend to Zachariah and his right hand. Where Zachariah is business and lacks charms, Alistair can charm a crowd and hold their attention. He knows how to feign being an ideal human, without letting on his own bloodlust; he's a monster in human skin. At the end of the day, unlike Zachariah, Alistair does have morals and standards he will abide by, even if they come back to ruin him.

━━━━━━━━━━

The Vakari Coven

Ausrine Baoghal; The Lady

Witch • Female • She/Her • Bisexual • Aromantic

The woman in charge of the town, widowed and inheriting the right to rule as her husband had no heirs. She is a manipulative and dangerous woman, eager to commit any sin or crime for more power. She, in truth, cares only for herself and would feel no remorse if she had to turn on one of her coven to further her own agenda.

The magistrate and also the chief policeman of the town. He maintains a calm, but manipulative personality. As a front, he presents himself to be fair and just, liked and favored by the people for genuinely caring for them. While in truth he has his own heinous and sinister agenda, aiding Ausrine in her plans.

Leary O'Laoghaire; The Magistrate

Witch • Male • He/Him • Bicurious • Aromantic

The oldest member of the coven, Dairine lives under the guise of an elderly woman, who lives alone with her children and grandchildren already leaving her to live their own lives. She is a kind and understanding woman and cares for the younger witches in the coven. She will not support Baríon with her agenda, nor does she care for the servant girl, she even despises the so-called ally Ausrine claims to have and who they all adhere to.

Dairine Ó Séaghdha; The Crone

Witch • Afab • Agender • She/They • Asexual • Aromantic

The acting servant of Barion, Anisha’s true loyalties lie elsewhere. She stays within the town, serving the coven while acting as the eyes and ears of someone, the person who is truly pulling the strings. She is the one to relay information and letters between the coven and her master. She is a quiet woman, that keeps her head down and her mind to herself. She only shows her true, confident and demanding, nature behind closed doors with the coven when they dare to question her.

Anisha Kaur; The Servant

Witch • Afab • Demigirl • She/They • Asexual • Aromantic

The charming son of Leary. Many whisper that is part fae, due to his charm, if it’s true or not many are unaware. He is a very sophisticated young man, that has managed to wrap the entire town around his finger. While on the surface he is alike his father is a caring, compassionate, charming young man, something sinister brews beneath. He is devious, demanding, domineering.

Nathir O'Laoghaire; The Magistrate’s Son

Half-Witch/Half-Fae • Amab • Agender • He/Him • Bisexual • Aromantic

Being the baker's daughter, Liannah helps around the bakery and family business. Unlike the company she keeps, she is a reserved young woman. She is polite and maintains her manners with whomever she is dealing with. She has the patience of a saint and rarely loses her cool. Liannah is a woman with a calm demeanor about her, being a woman many are comfortable around due to her peaceful and calm aura.

Liannah Ó Buachalla; The Baker’s Daughter

Witch • Afab • Genderfluid • She/They • Asexual • Panromantic

Ausrine's bastard son she had with a spirit she bargained with for more power. Since he was young, he was raised by the servants of the house, and the coven, over his own mother; the two have more of a business relationship over a family one. Since he cares less about what his mother does, he spends his time with Liannah and Reyes, either at the bakery or getting into trouble somewhere. With Reyes as an influence, Mastema is a flirtatious man that enjoys scandals and making the most of life

Mastema Baoghal; The Knave

Half-Witch/Half-Spirit • Amab • Genderfluid • He/They • Pansexual • Demiromantic

Rochan Misra; The Charlatan

Half-Witch/Half-Spirit • Amab • Queer • He/She • Pansexual • Aromantic

A foreigner to the Coven, born and raised in the Duchy of Incali. At a young age, he became a traveling charlatan, recently settling within the coven only as he befriended Liannah and Mastema and enjoyed their company. Now, he is the local bad influence: scamming locals out of their money at the taverns, wooing and seducing young men and ladies alike, always trespassing and vandalizing something. He is trouble but has a heart of gold when it matters.

ARIH: : @hekat-ie, @writings-of-a-narwhal, @silent-creed

━━━━━━━━━━

Taglist:

General: @endlesshourglass, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words, @alexwritesfiction, @primusesgiantmetalballbearings

Both: @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @hazard-writes, @egg-shark

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fireinmywoods · 3 years

Note

Can you explain trauma Kirk has in the cheating scene? Im new to star trek

Welcome!!! I hope you stick around for a while and become fully assimilated into the strange, delightful glory that is Trek fandom.

I can only speak for myself, but when I talk about Jim’s trauma, I’m referring to two main components (under the read-more for discussion of childhood abuse and Tarsus):

1. Jim’s abusive childhood

There’s a deleted scene from Jim’s childhood in the first movie in which his older brother Sam is shown running away from home. It‘s made clear that the “man of the house” Frank is at the very least verbally and emotionally abusive to both kids, and based on baby Jimmy’s reaction to Frank getting in his face, I don’t think it’s a stretch to imagine that it had or would later escalate to physical violence.

[Note: Because AOS and especially the extended universe are a hot mess, some pseudo-canon sources describe Frank as their uncle (Winona’s brother) while others have him as their stepfather. I’ve gone with stepfather, because I think it better explains why they stayed in that situation as long as they did.]

Sam says their mom doesn’t understand how Frank treats them when she’s not around (i.e., off-planet with Starfleet), which makes the case for a certain amount of neglect as well. Then there’s the AOS tie-in comic Operation: Annihilate, which shows the aftermath of the car incident, and in which Winona is pretty grossly depicted as an enabler of Frank’s abuse, telling Jimmy that Frank just gets mad sometimes and that he basically needs to suck it up and live with it. For the record, this comic is not part of my personal canon, as I think the exchange I’m describing is lazily characterized and does Winona unnecessarily dirty. (“He’s given us a home” - motherfucker, it’s a post-scarcity economy and you work for Starfleet! Get a goddamn apartment!) That said, I do think Winona bears significant responsibility for leaving her kids in that situation, since the most charitable read is that she wasn’t paying enough attention to realize how Frank was treating them. (I know at least one of my fandom friends disagrees on this point, and I’ll acknowledge that I have a dirty lens when it comes to childhood abuse and the enabling thereof. Your mileage may vary.)

Anyway. In this version of events, Jimmy doesn’t steal the car because he’s some innately shitheaded out-of-control rebel like the final cut suggests. In fact, Sam’s exposition tells us that up until this point Jimmy has been an exceptionally obedient, rule-following, “good” child. Here, he steals the car because Sam leaving and his own realization that he’s never going to be good enough to make Frank happy makes something in him snap. It’s a powerful moment which greatly enhances Jim’s characterization, and if you ask me it’s frankly criminal that they deleted this scene.

2. Tarsus IV

TOS Kirk is a canonical survivor of a famine and genocidal massacre on the colony Tarsus IV. Here again canon is a bit of a mess when it comes to Tarsus IV, and fanon has taken that canon and gone absolutely hog wild with it, but it is firmly established that Jim was just 13 at the time, which...woof. That’s dark as hell.

Now, it is not official AOS canon that this version of Jim was on Tarsus IV at the time of the massacre, but it’s also not official that he wasn’t. My take, which I think is shared by many in fandom, is that AOS Jim was sent there to live with family after the car incident as a sort of “get your head straight” move, and also (in my opinion) because Winona finally started cluing in that it probably wasn’t a great idea to leave him alone with Frank.

The TOS extended universe further establishes that Jim was understandably pretty messed up after the events of Tarsus, and that his father’s intervention was crucial to helping him recover and setting him on the path toward Starfleet and the Enterprise. In AOS, of course, George isn’t around to provide that support, and Jim’s already learned that he can’t rely on his mom, and he’s maybe stuck living with fucking Frank again. All of this builds on his earlier trauma in really terrible ways, and he never has the opportunity to actually heal from any of it.

Aftermath: PTSD and the cheating scene

Again, the abuse and Tarsus IV are both semi-canonical at best. However, I’d argue that they should be considered canon, because Jim’s character arc makes a lot more sense when they’re included. This double whammy of unresolved trauma and the almost total absence of emotional support go a long way toward explaining how the boy who grows up to be TOS Kirk in one timeline instead grows into the Jim Kirk we meet at the bar in 2255 of the Kelvin timeline - a “repeat offender,” reckless, directionless, emotionally detached, quick to meet violence with violence, and so very, very angry.

That’s why the scene where Spock lays into Jim for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru is so painful to me. Jim is up on display at the front of this hall, being stared at by basically everyone he knows, and Spock is criticizing him for missing the point of the exercise - specifically, lecturing him about needing to experience fear and control his reaction to it. Imagine how that would land for someone with as much trauma as Jim is carrying, who endured all he did as a powerless child, and who (in my telling of things) suffers to this day from panic attacks as a result. It’s, uh...it’s not great.

#maybe someday i'll actually finish jim's prequel and this will become clearer #in the meantime have a bunch of words in some semblance of order #fic related #kirk #star trek #aos #ask #anon

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