#My problem is that despite knowing myself to be a careful and relatively intelligent person

[angstmonsterwrites]

I learned something today about the nature of confidence that may be obvious to some, but it felt enough like an epiphany for me to want to share it.

My previous understanding of confidence was that it's something that occurs in people who (rightfully or not) are so sure of their own competence/skill/charisma/intelligence that failure or rejection hardly register to them as plausible outcomes.

However, it's now occurred to me that confidence has far less to do with a low threat of failure and rejection than it does a person's faith in their own ability to handle negative outcomes or setbacks to their efforts. Knowing oneself to be intelligent or fairly competent is still part of it, but it's not the whole thing. The person with a genuinely (that is, not the product of narcissism or arrogance) high confidence level can face an incident of failure, a setback to a goal, or even some really unfair ridicule, and there's a good chance they'll have the emotional resources to shake it off, pick up on any valuable lessons, and keep moving. They possess a sort of radical acceptance of their own flawed humanity that, depending on the exact context, can help greatly diminish the experience and duration of shame and embarrassment. They don't keep an ever-present mental catalogue of their mistakes, poor or unpredictable circumstances, and rejection as evidence that a negative outcome is most probable, or feel the need to treat those things as crimes they're perpetually on trial for. Failure might be briefly discouraging or frustrating; there might be some crow or humble pie that needs eaten, but it generally doesn't spell doom.

[fowlblue]

Artemis Fowl Winged AU:

—————

For obvious reasons, the Fowls are Corvidae- intelligence, curiosity, strong family bonds… and a proclivity for extreme mischief.

Artemis Fowl II- Western Jackdaw:

An underappreciated little corvid with glossy black feathers and bright blue eyes, perfect for Artemis! I've already mentioned corvid intelligence, but let me note in particular they are incredible problem solvers... and sometimes a little silly.

Artemis Fowl I (Fowl Senior)- Common Raven:

Clever? Check! Iconic? Check! Believed to be unfortunate to come across? Unfortunately, check! And finally, appropriately scruffy? Check!

Angeline Fowl- Barn Owl:

Well, some member of the family deserved to be an owl, and Barn Owls have the perfect mix of elegance, beauty and intellect to suit Angeline- they’re also quite cute, and can be very silly (spoken from experience!)

Myles and Beckett Fowl- Stellars’ Jay and Blue Jay:

Look at these birds and tell me it’s not the twins. Jays are known for mischief-making, extreme intellect (despite often being underestimated) and colorful, loud personalities- perfect for them!

Domovoi Butler- Golden Eagle:

A classic! While I was originally thinking ‘owl’, eagles have a certain reputation of nobility and power- they’ve also historically been used in falconry. They are fierce, protective, and incredibly strong birds.

Juliet Butler- Black and Chestnut Eagle:

While I was this close to going with a Crested Caracara or some form of kite, Juliet deserves ‘eagle’ status alongside her brother. Further research led me to various ‘hawk-eagles’, smaller than their more famous cousins and built just a little bit different- this bird is colorful and quick and still quite powerful. Though, in all truth, I imagine Juliet would dye her feathers green no matter what wings she’d have.

Holly Short- Common Kestrel:

A small bird for a small fairy! While a kestrel is one of the smallest raptors, they are nonetheless incredibly fierce and capable of some pretty fancy flying, including the unique ability to ‘hover’ in midair!

Mulch- Burrowing Owl

I don’t think I really have to explain myself here, lol.

(now… onto the villains! Be warned for some blood ahead!)

Opal Koboi- Little Brown Bat

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Why not a vampire bat? She’s a villain!” And A. It feels too easy, and B. Vampire bats are highly social (which, granted, most bats are), and more importantly, known to take care of older or sick members of their swarm! That is too compassionate for Opal. So instead, I chose something known for being small, fairly ‘cute’, and, most importantly-

Absolutely full of rage.

Jon Spiro- Peregrine Falcon

A cosmopolitan bird, the peregrine falcon is a bird perfectly at home in the big city-in fact, peregrine falcons have been observed to fly faster and hunt more successfully when among the skyscrapered skyline! Primarily preying on other birds, the peregrine falcon is a serious threat, even if it's not particularly big or strong, and its urban lifestyle makes it well-suited to one Jon Spiro.

Britva- Giant Petrel

A relatively underrated villain in the series, but in my opinion the most grounded in reality and particularly intimidating. Given the Bay of Kola is his territory, a seabird felt appropriate, and these birds are big, bad, and brutal. A true scourge on other creatures, that's for sure.

Damon Kronski- Blood Pheasant

Finally, some Galliforme representation! These birds are relatively uncommon in the world of public knowledge, but very flashy- just look at it! The males are brightly-colored, but sharply-spurred, and can be quite fierce when disturbed.

Teddy Bleedham-Drye- Cape Vulture

I don't really think I need to elaborate here, lol.

[urimaginespimp]

Three Months Apart

Tommy x Reader

angst + maybe a happy ending?

--------

Today was the day you were going to ask him.

You’ve been with Thomas for over six years. The countless parties and weddings you’ve attended together become more and more intolerable. All because every time you went to them, the more you wanted to have your own.  

It didn’t help that your family was pressuring you to it, no matter how against they were of your relationship. Your father often told you, that If you were going to associate yourself with such a dangerous family, might as well make sure you’re officially entitled to their protection.

You gave him the signs, hell even Polly and John started dropping their own hints at him to help you after they figured out what you’ve been trying to do. But as much as Thomas was one of the most intelligent people you know, he seemed to be oblivious about it.

Pacing back and forth outside his office, you were close to backing out when the door opened, revealing Thomas.

“Is there a reason why you’ve been pacing back and forth out here for the last three minutes?” your boyfriend asks you with a smile.

“I uh… wanted to talk.” You answered quietly, walking inside.

Thomas was confused with the nervousness of you voice. Closing the door, he turned to see you already on the seat in front of his desk, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Is there something wrong, Y/N?” He asked you.

“A friend of mine from London is getting married next month.” You don’t know how, but that lie just rolled off your tongue.

“Y/N, you know you don’t have to be nervous about asking me to be your date, right? We’ve gone through occasions like these about a hundred times.” He chuckled.

“Right. We’ve been through a lot of weddings.” You nodded, smiling. “But I never got the chance to ask you the very same thing I often ask my other unmarried friends.”

“Well shoot, darling.” He walked towards you and took the seat opposite yours.

“Do you think they’re making the right decision?" you finally asked him, feeling a rush out of your system. You didn’t even realize how tense this has been making you.

“Frankly, if it’s no benefit for a company, like let’s say an official alliance, then it’s a waste of time and money.” He answered nonchalant, taking a cigarette out of his pocket.

No matter how appalled you were at his response, you tried not to show it.

“Not even if they do love each other?” You felt your throat tighten up.

Thomas sighed. “If they really do love each other, they wouldn’t need to have such a unecessary event to shove it to other people’s face.”

“Good God, Thomas.” You whispered.

“Tom, it’s more than just telling the world how much you love each other. It’s also sealing devotion to each other. Giving them the gift of the right t-to let’s say, visit you in a hospital without having to wait for a real family member tell them that you are indeed the patient’s significant other. Or not having to deal with stupid people labeling you as their whore or temporary piece anymore.” You ranted to him, not being able to hold back in including your personal reasons.

“Is this what this is all about? You let those petty comments in your head even after years of being together?” He asked you, irritated. You stood up from your seat.

“I’m a woman, Thomas. And it’s quiet disappointing that at this time of age, being one still isn’t that significant. I quit my job for you. I left the comfort of my family’s home for you. Everyone I run into knows I’m with you. Now God forbid, but what would become of me if one of your dangerous antics would lead you to your demise? Who would hire a Shelby trash? And I might as well kill myself if I’d have to go back and hear my mother’s non-ending comments about me.”

“You know my family’s still going to take care of you.” He answered quietly, still wrapping his head around your sudden outburst.

“That’s not the point.” At this rate, you were gripping your dress to stop yourself from crying. Not until you ask him one more thing at least.

“Have you even thought about marrying me?” You blinked at him, hopefulness laced your voice.

But for the first time in the years you’ve been with him, Thomas Shelby was out for words in an argument. Your question left his mouth parted, trying to give you an answer.

Your stomach dropped. The defeated look on your face almost pushed him to give you the lie you wanted to hear, but he couldn’t do that to you.

“I understand." You said looking down at your dress and running your hands through it as if an effort to smooth it out, when you were only trying not to show the tears that have finally spilled.

Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself from the dreadful thing you were about to say next.

"I can’t do this anymore.” You barely said and willed your shaking self to walk out from him that day.

--------

That was three months ago.

You were in your father’s debt for helping you “disappear” off the radar for a little while. He sent you to live with a wealthy distant relative in the countryside, giving you time to pick yourself up and work on your personal happiness again.

It was safe to say that you were getting there, if it weren’t just for your own mind betraying you every once in a while, when you’d unexpectedly think or dream about him.

And of course, there were times where you almost regretted that day. You were already happy, right? But at the same time, it was better than spending more years before realizing he’d never marry you.

Thomas. You hadn’t heard directly from him ever since that day. Of course you gave a haste tearful goodbye to everybody, promising to write to them in the future. But it was a few letters from your sister that gave you a few updates.

She’d told you how he came to your family’s home a bunch of times on the first month, asking for your father’s favor to tell him where you were. On the second month he’d resort to calling every now and then, but on the third, there was nothing.

You guess he’d finally move on. And that was your cue to finally come home.

A few days back in your family’s home, one of your maids handed you an invitation to your name. It was dated a month back, but what caught your attention was that the seal was clearly already opened.

“It got delivered straight to the Shelbys first, miss.” She told you after seeing your confused expression.

Giving her a nod and a small smile, you opened it and saw that it was a formal invitation to a friend’s engagement party, set three nights from now.

“Should I send you sincerest regrets?” She asked you, and you stared back at her. “S-since you just got back from a trip.” She clarified awkwardly.

“No. Just go with me to find a dress tomorrow, please.”

--------

“I almost lost hope that you’d even come, Y/N” your friend hugged you as soon as she got you alone after introducing you to her betrothed.

“Don’t be daft. I’d never miss a chance to see my friends happy.” You smiled at her. “I never even knew you were dating someone.”

“Yeah, it’s for the family’s benefit. We like each other though, so it’s no problem.” She explained, chuckling. “So…” she continued. “Where have you been these past few months? I tried calling but all I got was that you’re out for a vacation.”

“I’m no longer with Thomas. Had to clear my head for a lil bit." You smiled awkwardly. Sooner or later you had to tell people anyway.

“Y/N I- I am so sorry for the invitation mishap. Had I known, I wouldn’t have sent it to his address or listed him as your plus one.” She squeezed your hand in remorse.

“It’s fine, really. You didn’t know.” You assured her.

She was smiling at you in gratitude, but something behind you caught her eye that made her gape in surprise. Curious, you turned your head and saw that it was no other than your ex-boyfriend heading your way.

“Do you want me to get someone to escort him out?” You friend asked in panic. Turning to face her, you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“No, I’ll handle it. What I want you to do is enjoy your party, okay?” You smiled reassuringly. Giving your hand one last squeeze, she excused herself when Thomas was a few steps away.

Turning to face him, you were surprisingly feeling calmer than expected.

“Mr. Shelby.” You addressed him with a curt nod.

“Can I talk to you in private?” he cut to the chase. You bit your tongue back from making a remark about his lack of greeting, after seeing how his eyes were pleading despite his cold tone.

“Lead the way.” You found yourself saying.

On your way to wherever he was going, you caught your friend’s worried eye, and gave her a playful scolding look for not enjoying herself like you asked. Sure enough, he led you both in an unoccupied room that looked like someone’s study.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, you were taken aback when he suddenly charged at you and engulfed you in his arms. Thankfully, you were quick enough to steady yourself so that you both wouldn’t fall.

“Please don’t ever call me that ever again.” He whispered in your ear, shakily.

“W-wha-“

“Mr. Shelby. Please don’t ever call me like I'm just some associate. I hate it.” He cut you off. Your eyes watered at the tone of his voice. It sounded like he was as miserable as you’ve been these past few months.

Unable to give him any response, he slowly finally let go of you from his embrace and faced you. Looking at him, he was in one of his expensive suits, but that could only take away a little of your attention from his real state.

He had never looked as tired as he does right now, he looked like he lost a few pounds, his skin was paler than usual. You resisted the urge to touch his face.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke up.

“I’m fine now, Thomas.” You answered, though the lone tear that rolled down your cheek said otherwise.

“I’m not.” He answered frankly. “These past three months have been hell, Y/N. I kept going to your father, begging him to tell me where you were, until Poll told me that the more I persisted, the longer I wouldn’t see you.” He wiped the tear on your cheek with his thumb.

“H-how did you know I’ll be here?” you whispered, still trying to find you voice.

“I opened the invitation. But I risked going here just without guarantee you'd come.” He explained to you.

“I was in a distant aunt’s home. I just had to get away.” You didn’t know what else to say, so you told him where you’ve been. “It had a big garden, and I was treated really well there. They gave me everything I requested, I got to ri-”

“Marry me.” He told you in the middle of your babbling, catching you off-guard once more. “It was selfish of me to merely think of marriage the way I did, without even thinking about how it would mean for you.”

Recovering from the shock, you shook your head at him.

“No.” You replied sternly.

“No?” the hurt in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

“I don’t want to force you into doing something you don’t believe in Thomas. I left not because I didn’t love you anymore. I did it because we want different things, and we both deserve to be with someone who would have the same mindset as we do. Because yes, I would’ve just accepted your answer and be content with our relationship. But I knew that along the way I’d start to resent you. I never want that to happen.”

“But that’s the thing, Y/N.” He held both of your arms. “When you left, I thought about everything you said and asked. You asked if I ever thought about marrying you. No, I haven’t, but I always thought about spending my life with you, having kids, owning a home together, and all that hosting events bullshit.” He chuckled. “And I realized that I can have that. But I also want to make it official first.” He added softly.

At this point, you couldn’t answer him anymore as tears prickled your eyes. Then he got down on one knee before your standing figure.

“Now please, Y/N. Will you take me out of my own misery and give me your hand in marriage?” He was already crying too. Who knew that the excruciating past three months would lead you both to here.

But just when you were about to give him your answer, the door suddenly opened, revealing your friend who had worry written all over her face. But it quickly turned into a shocked one when she saw that what Thomas was doing.

“I thought you were in trouble since you were taking too long.” She smiled sheepishly at both of you.

You smiled back at her. Then turned your attention back to Thomas.

“I guess we should invite her first, then.”

[waywardrose13]

Deliverance From Evil

Pairing: DARK!Dean Winchester x Reader (?), Sam x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 11,054

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con, rape, physical and mental/emotional abuse. Ages 18+, virgin!reader, language, mentions of depression/anxiety, curse, purgatory, purgatory!Dean, hateful remarks, negative self image, mentions of suicidal thoughts, not enough editing to satisfy me. Please let me know if I missed any triggers/warnings.

Rating: Mature- 18+!! If I find that you are under 18, you will be blocked. Go read some of my minor friendly stories.

Summary: Dean Winchester had two sides; the selfless, caring man who loved his baby brother, car, and pie; and the cruel, sadistic man who was hell bent on making Y/n’s life a living hell. When Dean, Cas, and Y/n are sucked into Purgatory, things take a turn for the worse. Two years later, Y/n finds herself face to face with the man who broke her. A new discovery leads to Y/n finding out the truth, yet sometimes, the truth is better left unsaid.

A/N- This story is very dark and can be triggering to some readers. Please do not read if any of the above warnings are triggering to you. I have also listed some resources below if you are in need of help. I love you all!

Bingo squares: @spndarkbingo​ (Purgatory!Dean) // @badthingshappenbingo​ (This is for your own good) // @spndeanbingo​ (Soulmates AU)

U.S. National Sexual Violence Hotline:  800.656.4673

U.S. National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800.799.7233

The idea of Purgatory wasn’t what put me on edge. It wasn’t the monsters constantly down your throat, or the blood, sweat, and tears that somehow never seemed to stop. It was Dean Winchester’s sinister stare and cruel remarks that put me on edge.

I didn’t hate the man. If I was being honest, I felt quite the opposite, but it was more of a feeling of distress. Ever since meeting him, something about me had made him loathe me. I wasn’t sure what it was, nor have I ever asked, but whatever it is, I have never been able to make him at least tolerate me. 

Sam and I had met in college. I was a freshman when he was a senior, and he tutored me for a while. We became friends, and soon we found out the both of us had gone to college to escape the hunting life. We grew apart for years, naturally coming back together on a hunt. 

I had been at the bunker with the Winchesters ever since, much to the elder brother’s dismay. And ever since then, Dean had made it his job to make my life a living hell.

It started out as small jabs at me; little comments that had an underlying, cruel meaning to them. Or forgetting to pick me up from police stations, houses, etc, or not bringing back food for me. But slowly, it evolved into something more. He began openly being cruel towards me, saying things that made me cry in bed at night. He’d shove me when Sam wasn’t looking, he’d purposely break my things, bleach my clothes, point out my insecurities for a laugh. 

I honestly thought the bullying ended in high school. 

I hadn’t fallen in love with the person he was towards me. I had fallen in love with the person he was to others. He was selfless and caring. He was brave, intelligent, and had a killer sense of humor. And the simple sight of him made me weak at the knees. But whenever his words were spoken to me, or his glare was pointed at me, I sometimes forgot who he was when he wasn’t hating me.

Something must have been wrong with me. How could I love a man who was so ruthlessly callous to me? Although I had tried to stop the feelings, it was like an inexplicable pull vehemently caused me to fall into a confusing love with this man. It was unstoppable, and however much I prayed or wished for it to leave, the feeling never ceased.

“Hey, Y/N!” I jumped as Dean barked at me, and I snapped myself out of it, looking towards him. “Get your head out of the damn clouds and move your ass.”

I sighed, hoisting my makeshift bag onto my shoulder, trudging after him and Benny. 

After Dean killed Dick Roman, he, Cas and I were swallowed into Purgatory along with the Leviathan, too close to the impact sight, apparently. I immediately knew I was fucked when Dean looked at me dead in the eyes when we landed and told me he’d rather go to hell than be stuck with me in a place like this. 

“We need her, Dean,” Cas had said. Dean had rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“We need her like we need the plague, Cas,” he snarled. I flinched at his words, and I closed my eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. “I mean for fucks sake.”

“Look, the way I see it, I don’t care if you hate her, but we need all the help we can get. And she’s a good hunter despite everything else you, for some reason, hate about her.” 

It was the first time someone had stood up for me. It wasn’t long, however, before Dean and I were on our own, Cas seemingly taking off after a particularly rough fight. He ignored me the whole time, not saying any words to me, but using his shoulder to roughly shove me out of his way from time to time. The way I saw it, he wasn’t verbally abusing me anymore. I could manage a few shoves.

When Benny joined our team of two, Dean began speaking again, and we continued the search for Cas.

So here we were now, walking through the dense forest of Purgatory, eyes and ears constantly alert. It was like the start of a bad joke; two hunters and a vampire walk through purgatory…

“Don’t mind him, Cher,” Benny murmured to me. “He’s in a mood.”

“He’s always in a mood around me, Benny,” I said. “Nothing I do will ever change that.”

“Benny, quit gossiping with her and get over here,” Dean said, voice hushed. He was crouched down over the edge of a cliff, Benny and I making our way to crouch on either side of him. Dean shot me a dirty look, and he turned slightly towards Benny.

“What is it?” The vampire asked. Dean nodded his head to the valley at the bottom of the ridge.

“Leviathans,” Dean said. “Took out a small pack of wolves a few minutes ago.”

I shivered, watching as one of the leviathans picked up a severed limb, inspecting it before tossing it to the side. 

“Shit. That was our path, wasn’t it?” Benny asked. Dean nodded.

“Yeah, and I’m not really in the mood to get into a fight with a bunch of leviathans right now,” he said. 

“I don’t blame you, chief,” Benny agreed. “But what are we going to do now?”

I glanced to the left, eyes roaming the cliff side. It was high above the creatures below, and it fed to another cliff edge on the other side. It would be above our path, but most likely would run parallel alongside it. There seemed to be good footwells along the cliffside, and I struggled to get the courage up to speak.

“I have an idea,” I said. Both men looked over at me, interest on Benny’s face and annoyance on Dean’s.

“The adults are talking,” Dean said. 

“Let her talk, chief,” Benny said, patting his friend on the back. “Go ‘head, cher.”

I swallowed. “The side of the cliff: it’s hidden by the tops of the trees. But-” I pointed to the other edge- “if we are careful enough, we could climb across and get to the other landing. I’m guessing the otherside runs parallel to our original path, it’ll just be higher.”

“Smart,” Benny said, giving me a smile. “Real good.”

“How the hell are you going to climb across the side of a damn cliff?” Dean asked, raising a brow. “You can barely hold up your axe.”

I bit my lip. “I’ll manage. And I can, too, hold up my axe. I’m not weak.”

Suddenly I was being shoved onto my back, my hands being pressed into the dirt as Dean held my wrists. He straddled my waist, his face inches from mine.

“Push me off,” he hissed, eyes furiously burning through my skull. I struggled beneath his hold. I was strong, but Dean was stronger, and no matter how much I bucked and pushed and pulled, he wouldn’t budge. 

He let go of me for a moment, and I shoved at his chest, quickly being held down again with one hand while his other held a knife to my throat. 

“You know, it would be so easy to end you right now,” he growled. My eyes widened in fear. “I wouldn’t have to hear your whiny, sniveling voice anymore and see your pathetically hideous face.” 

I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes.

“It would put us all out of our misery.”

“That’s enough, Dean,” Benny said, now on his feet. 

“The bitch needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean said, pressing harder. I whimpered, fear clutching my heart in its grasp as he smirked darkly at me. “Don’t you… bitch?” 

“Get off me, Dean,” I said, bucking beneath him again. He laughed, hand squeezing my wrists tighter. “Stop it.”

In a blink of an eye, he had reared the blade back, bringing it shooting back down until it stabbed into the ground beside my head. I flinched away from it, eyes squeezing shut as he was being pulled off me.

“What the hell is your problem?” Benny asked, pushing Dean against a tree. “What the fuck has she ever done to you?”

“What do you mean? Just look at her,” Dean said.

“Give me a reason, chief,” Benny snarled. “Give me one good reason why you terrorize that poor woman.”

Dean hesitated, his mouth agape as he thought for a moment. I was sitting up, hand on my throat as I watched carefully as he closed his mouth and set his jaw, eyes casting downwards.

“That’s what I thought,” Benny muttered, letting him go. Dean took a deep breath, looking up at me for a moment.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He bent down to pick up his sword, slinging it over his shoulder onto his back before making his way to the cliff side.

Benny helped me to my feet, hands cradling my head as he inspected my neck. There was a small nick from Dean’s blade, but I was relatively unscathed.

“Alright, cher,” Benny began, hands gently resting on my shoulders. “You stick with me, okay? I won’t let Dean touch you again.”

I swallowed thickly, nodding my head as he patted my back. He pulled me in for a quick hug before following after Dean.

***

The next three days had gone by in a blur. We had yet to find Cas, and Dean was getting impatient. It was a constant surge of monsters and a constant physical battle with ourselves as we pushed through the fights, trying to swallow back our bile at the blood and guts that inevitably found itself onto our clothes.

I was washing up in the river, a little way through the trees from a camp we had set up for the night. I had carefully peeled off my bloodstained clothes, washing my body as best I could with the river’s water before attempting to clean my jeans and shirt. I scrubbed at them until the blood was simply an ugly stain, tossing the garments onto a nearby rock to dry. I was midway running water over my hair when suddenly arms were lifting me up, eliciting a squeal from my lips. A hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged back behind the rocks. I struggled in the arms of my captor, rearing my head back and bashing it into their nose. They grunted, and they let go.

I spun around, fists raised, eyes widening.

“Dean? What the hell?” I asked, covering my stomach. My chest was still covered by my bra, and the water was deep enough to cover the bottom half of me, but I felt naked under Dean’s intense gaze. I glance around, spotting my clothes on the boulder. I grabbed at them, pulling the shirt over my head before my jeans were ripped away from me and thrown to the side. “Hey!”

His lips crashed against mine in a bruising force, hand tangling in my hair as he snaked an arm around my waist, crushing my body against his. My hands flew to his chest and I tried to push him away, confusion and fear coursing through my veins as he wouldn’t let go.

I bit down on his lip, and he reared back with a small yelp, touching where blood began to seep from the bite. I pulled my shirt on as he was distracted and backed away from him, arms curling around my torso.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, wiping away the blood. I stared at him, mouth dropping.

“What the fuck was that?” I yelled. He raised a brow. “You don’t just come onto a girl like that! Especially after treating her like you treat me!”

“I… huh?”

“Are you seriously playing dumb right now?” I asked, brows drawing together. “You can’t be that fucking idiotic.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? For everything. But here’s the thing,” he said, moving closer to me. I moved back until I was pressed against the rock. “We’ve been here for almost a year, right? Neither of us have gotten any within that time. You just looked hot down here in the water, and I see the way you look at me sometimes so I just thought, ‘hey, why not?’” 

How long had I dreamed a moment like this would happen? Too many times. More than I’d care to admit. But did I really want to be with Dean for the first time like this? With him hating my guts, simply wanting a quick fuck in Purgatory pf all places? Fuck no.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair. “I… I can’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth right now. You think I’m hideous! You’ve said so multiple times, so you’re full of shit! And just so you know, you don’t just jump onto a girl and assume she wants the same thing you do. Besides, who wouldn’t be attracted to you, for fuck’s sake? It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! God, Dean! You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you…”

“Yes, you do! You’ve bullied me like a damn middle schooler since the moment you met me!”

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Fine. You know what? Forget it.” He moved past me, stopping for a second. “And all have you know, it’s not that I hate you. It’s just that I can’t stand to be around you for more than ten minutes without wanting to put a gun in my mouth. And you’re right, I do think you’re hideous, and my god does your personality make you fucking ugly inside and out. If you don’t want work done on your face, at least work on that. Maybe then you could find someone willing to put up with you.”

He left then, leaving me speechless. I collapsed against the rock, silent sobs racking my body. I hated myself, and Dean thrived on that fact. I had no idea what I had ever done to him, nor did I understand how someone could be so cruel. But there was one thing I did know for sure; Dean Winchester was absolutely hell bent on breaking me.

***

I combed my hair out with my fingers, eyes staring out over the water. 

It was nearly a week after my confrontation with Dean, and he had gone back to ignoring me. I was okay with it, not minding the silence after the cruel words. I always relied on my friendship with Benny to get me through, but it seemed as though he was pulling away from me, too.

I sighed, my hands finding themselves on the dirt beneath me. They were filthy, no matter how many times I scrubbed at them with moss and water, the blood and mud wouldn’t rid itself from my skin.

Suddenly, something went soaring through the air in front of my face, a blade lodging itself in the tree beside me. I fell back, flattening myself on the ground as I looked to the side, seeing Dean standing twenty feet from me, a dark smirk on his face, Benny shaking his head behind him.

“What the hell, Dean!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t,” he said, walking towards me. He reached past me, eyes locked on mine as he retrieved the knife from the bark. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Don’t be so… are you fucking with me?” I asked, watching as he turned around and shrugged off his jacket. 

“Just drop it, cher,” Benny said, rolling his eyes. I set my jaw and turned away, swallowing back the anger brewing inside my chest. I folded my arms over each other, biting down on my tongue until I drew blood. “I’m going to scout the area. See if I can’t find a better place to set up camp.”

I inwardly groaned at the thought of being alone with Dean, and watched from the corner of my eye as Benny made his way through the trees, Dean leaning against one to stare at me. He was twirling his blade around in his fingers, his smirk not fading from his face. I shifted uncomfortably.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Dean began.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I muttered. He stopped twirling the knife, smirk fading to replace his expression with a stoic, hard one. 

“I’ll give you one more chance at this, Y/N,” he said. He walked toward me slowly, and I backed away a bit. 

“At what?” I asked, now pressed against a tree. Dean didn’t stop moving until he could press his palm against the tree, leaning into it as he bent down until he was eye level with me.

“I think you know.” His eyes flickered down to my lips, his tongue running out to wet his own. I shivered as he lowered his face to the side of my head, nose pressing into my hair to take a deep breath in. 

“Dean, please, I don’t-”

“You know, I bet you’re still a virgin,” he interrupted, ignoring my words. I tried pushing against his chest but he took my hands in his, bringing them behind my back and crushing me further into the tree. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone. Although, I’m not surprised.”

“Dean, stop it,” I said harshly, but once again my words went unheard, and he nipped my collarbone.

“Fuck, a virgin pussy sounds so good right now.”

“I said stop, Dean!” I cried, pushing harder against him. He retaliated, quickly holding both of my hands in one of his in order to press against my throat with the other.

“I don’t give a fuck about what you said,” he hissed. “The only reason you’re alive is because of me. Face it, you wouldn’t have made it on your own, and the only reason that I haven’t killed you myself yet is because Sam would kill me when we get back.” He crushed his lips to mine, all teeth and rough pressure as he shoved his tongue into my mouth. He rolled his hips against me, and my stomach churned. “I haven’t had any in a long time, Y/N. I need to let off some steam, and you owe me.” He pulled back to look into my teary eyes. “Answer me this… are you a virgin?”

I clenched my jaw. “Let go of me.”

He growled and slapped me, a yelp escaping my lips as he gripped my chin, bashing my head back against the bark. “I will find out one way or another, I’m just curious.”

I swallowed, teeth sinking into my tongue. I’ve had two boyfriends in the past, if I could even call them that. I had only gone on a few dates with both of them, but never went further than second base. I was twenty-four and never worried about still being a virgin. 

Until now.

I didn’t want my first time being like this; raped in purgatory by the man who hates me, and who I was utterly afraid of; raped by a man I had unwillingly fallen in love with.

I gave a short nod, and he smiled darkly. “Not surprising, but definitely exciting.” 

“Dean, please don’t do this,” I said, struggling against his hold. “Please.”

“Benny will be back soon, so we need to make this quick,” he said. And suddenly, his hand was off my throat and on the button of my jeans. 

“No!” I snarled, trying to kick at him, but he wedged his knee between my legs, and I was completely trapped. 

His hand was inside my pants and down the front of my panties without hesitation, and I cringed at the thought of the dirt and blood that coated both of our skin. His fingers ran through my folds, thumb finding my clit quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea washed over me, and my body went rigid at the alien feeling of someone else’s hands down there. A tear trickled down my cheek, and Dean bent forward to lick it up.

“Come on, baby,” he cooed mockingly. “Just go with it. There’s nothing you can do to stop it anyway.”

I reared back as far as I could to spit in his face. He flinched back in surprise, his face morphing from cocky and dark to menacing, and I was thrown to the ground roughly within a second, Dean quickly hovering over me and holding me down before I could move away.

“I was trying to make this better for you, I truly was,” he said, beginning to undo his belt. I shuddered and squirmed beneath him. “But now, you’ve just pissed me off. So I don’t give a fuck if you’re ready or not.”

He shoved his jeans down far enough to free his cock from his boxers, moving back to tear at my own jeans and panties and drag them down my legs. I flipped around and began crawling away, but he gripped my ankle and turned me around onto my back.

“I want to see you,” he grunted, hands spreading my legs enough for him to fit between them. I looked down at his prick, eyes widening as I saw the size of him, and he laughed. “You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself a few times before lining up with my entrance. I didn’t stop struggling, hands trying to claw at his face, my eyes blurring from my tears. He gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands while the other held himself until the tip was resting against me, and then he moved his hand to grip my waist harshly. 

He forced himself inside me in one painful thrust, and a scream of pain was ripped from my throat. Dean smirked, relishing in the fact he had just torn through my virginity with such cruelty and violence. He groaned as he began to move. My hands slumped against him, knowing it was no use. He was much stronger than me, and he had already gotten what he wanted.

“I knew you’d like this,” he hissed in my ear, pulling out just to snap back in. “A bitch born to take a cock. My cock.”

The last shred of my innocence was taken within a second, and each time he shoved himself inside me, it took everything in me not to burst into tears. I turned my face away from him, eyes squeezed as tight as I could in order to try and disassociate myself, praying that this was simply but a dream. 

But as he hiked up my leg around his waist to angle himself deeper inside me, I knew it wasn’t a dream, but a nightmare, one born to tear down my walls and shatter the last of my will. I knew Dean Winchester was intent on breaking me, but I didn’t know he’d take it to such extremes.

“Shit,” he cursed, plunging himself deeper and deeper with each thrust until he couldn’t go any further. I bit my lip to keep in my cries of pain, nails sinking into the palms of my hand.

His hips began to stutter, his movements choppy and I knew he was close. I dug my nails in deeper until I felt blood trickle from my fingers. His hand gripped my jaw, turning my head.

“Look at me,” he growled, holding himself to the hilt inside me until I complied. He smirked at the tears that trickled from my eyes, and slammed himself home once, twice, three more times before he came. He held his hips flush to my pelvis, eyes still locked with mine as he spilled himself inside me. 

He gave a few more lazy humps, making sure he didn’t waste a single drop of his come before slipping out, sitting back on his haunches and taking a deep breath. “Wow.”

I sniffled, scooting as far away as possible as I pulled up my panties and jeans with shaky hands, trying to hold back the sobs and failing. I brought my hand up to my mouth, biting my sleeve to stifle the cries threatening to echo off the trees, and brought my knees up to my chest.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Dean said smiling. He laughed, shaking his head. “You felt better than I thought.” He sighed, standing up then and looked down at me. “Benny will be back soon. So pull yourself together before then. Say one word to him about this, I’ll kill you.”

I nodded in understanding, and he grunted.

He grabbed his axe and turned away, trudging off into the woods for his usual search for firewood.

In the five minutes he was gone, I took the time to pack up the few belongings I had, and without turning back, I ran for the hills.

Two Years Later

The nightmares never faded.

They had become less frequent, yet every few days or so, I’d run from the images inside my own head, battling demons within me instead of on the battlefield. Being scared of someone or something is one thing, but being scared of your own mind, your own dreams, was an entirely different thing, and it took strength to lay down and risk the possibility of reliving old trauma.

Yet, it was inevitable, after everything that had happened. Therapy helped, so did the anti-depressants and anxiety pills I took each night. But the truth of the matter was, the memories of Purgatory were always there, and the guilt and shame never faded, it simply turned into a dull ache that never truly went away.

Running from Dean, I was sore and bleeding, and all I cared about was keeping as much distance between him and I as possible. I listened to the whispers of the monsters, making sure I was never too close. 

Dean got out before I did, just two months after I ran, and it was only a few days later that I found the portal. I didn’t even try to contact Sam, because where Sam went, Dean went. 

Instead, I changed my name and set up a life for myself in a small town up in the mountains of West Virginia. I got a job at a police station as a victim advocate, got an apartment, and never once looked back. 

Quitting hunting wasn’t easy, and every once in a while I’d take a case close to home. But I typically stayed within the state, not wanting to risk running into the brothers on a hunt. 

Over those two years, I slowly began to rebuild my walls. However, in a split second, it all came crumbling down again.

It was a Monday afternoon in October. A cool front had washed over the Virginias and Maryland, finally carrying a crisp, sweet wind to cool our skin from the sweltering heat of the summer.

I was walking back to the station from lunch, having ran to a sandwich shop a block away. I was chewing on my lip and thinking about a particular case when I saw it; the sleek black coat of the Impala.

I felt my stomach drop, and I felt like I would be sick. Surely it couldn’t be the brothers. Other people had this particular car, too. But my fears were confirmed when the door to the station opened, and Sam walked out into the wind, leaves scattering around his feet, Dean right behind him. 

I was frozen with fear. All the progress I had made had diminished in a second. I wanted to turn and run the other way. I wanted to duck into the alley and wait until they were gone. But I couldn’t move. My limbs were suddenly planted and my body lost the ability to move as the man who had made my life hell for years and haunted my dreams stepped into the sun. 

Sam looked around as Dean led the way to the Impala. There was nothing I could do as his eyes landed on me, the surprised look on his face making me wince, the fearful one on mine catching him off guard.

“Y/N?” He asked. I saw Dean stiffen at the sound of my name, and I suddenly regained the ability to move. I spun on my heel and rushed into the alley, hoping to make it around to the back of the station and slip inside unseen. But Sam’s long legs made it so he was faster than me, and no amount of sprinting could keep me far enough away. He stepped in front of me, and my eyes widened. “Y/N… I… You’re alive.”

I swallowed thickly, looking over my shoulder. I tensed as I saw Dean at the end of the alley, his face hard and jaw clenched as he met my eyes. I looked back at Sam, shaking my head and stepping around him.

“I have to get back to work,” I said, trying to push past him.

“Wait!” He said, gripping my arm. I flinched, and he let go immediately.

“Sam,” I said, looking up at him. He tilted his head in confusion at the look of defeat on my face. “Please.”

“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Dean said you were dead. That you died when you were in Purgatory.”

“A part of me did,” I admitted. Sam’s face darkened at my words, and I looked away. “And if you love me, you’d stay away from me. For good.”

“I thought I lost my best friend, Y/N,” Sam said. “I can’t just let you go now, knowing you’re alive.”

“Sam, please,” I begged. “Please.”

“Why?” He demanded.

“Just let her be, Sam.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I looked back over towards Sam. Dean had caught up to us and was standing beside his brother now, a dark look on his face. His stare was icy, and it sent shivers down my spine. I shivered when he licked his lips, eyes raking up and down my body and suddenly I was back in Purgatory, his predatory gaze sending me reeling to a time of pain and misery.

“Y/N!” 

I jumped, realizing Sam had been trying to get my attention for some time now. I looked up at him, worrying my lip, tears filling my eyes. “Sam, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what? Why did Dean lie? What the hell happened in Purgatory?” He asked.

“Dean didn’t…” I trailed off, rolling my eyes with a scoff. “No, I guess he wouldn’t tell you what happened.”

“Y/N,” Dean warned, stare turning deadly.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Y/N, you can tell me anything.”

“No, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Your brother will kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I won’t let him,” Sam said. “Now please, I miss my best friend. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me,” I said. “Not anymore. Purgatory was shitty in itself, but Dean…”

I was suddenly pushed up against the brick wall, a yelp escaping me as Dean’s hand wrapped around my throat, his body pressed against mine. I shivered in fear, visibly shaking as his lips curled into a snarl.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, trying to pry his brother off me.

“What did I tell you would happen if you told anyone?” Dean hissed. I beat at his hands, trying to kick out at him. 

“Dean…”

“I’ll kill ‘ya,” he said. “I’ll do it right now. Don’t. Say. A. Word.”

Tears trickled down my cheeks, and Sam was able to tear Dean off me, pushing him up against the opposite wall.

“What the fuck?” He yelled. He pushed off his brother, turning towards me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. His voice softened then. “Are you okay?”

“I really need to… to get back to work,” I whispered. I was still shaking, and Sam’s fingers tightened slightly, almost as if he was trying to steady me.

“Can I come see you after work? I’ll meet you here and walk you home?” 

I glanced over Sam’s shoulder towards Dean. His jaw was set, and he gave a shake of his head.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I murmured. I watched a smirk grow on Dean’s face, and I shivered.

“I’m sorry. But I don’t care. I’ll meet you here, okay? At five?”

I nodded.

“Okay. See you then.” He turned slightly. “He won’t be coming, don’t worry.”

The brothers stared at each other intently, and I scurried off as quick as I could, clutching the brown bag in my hand to my chest, not trusting my hands not to shake.

It was my luck that they would end up here, out of all the towns and all the cases in the continental U.S., they had to end up here. There was one thing I was sure about; I wouldn’t be meeting Sam, nor would I be going back to work. I forgot all about my few belongings in the office, beelining to my car, readying myself to pack and be out of town by tonight.

***

I didn’t have much in terms of belongings. It didn’t take long to pack, and I had no set destination. If I had a set destination, I could be found. 

I was taping up the few boxes I had, picking up a few odds and ends, figuring I would leave the furniture and have the building owner sell it. Just as I was finishing, three sound knocks were rapped on my door.

I froze. 

I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I hadn’t made any friends since moving to town. No one would be coming here unannounced. No one except the Winchesters. They had their ways of finding where I lived. Sam probably asked around the station.

“Fucking Sam,” I muttered to myself. I pushed myself up off the floor, stalking to my front door. “So not cool.”

I unlocked the door, keeping the deadbolt in, before opening it.

My heart jumped to my throat.

“Dean?” I asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You didn’t show up to your meet-up with Sammy,” he said. He glanced around my door, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Simple and plain. It suits you.”

“Go away, Dean,” I said. “I have cop friends and I’m not afraid to call them. Just go.”

Dean laughed. “Please. We both know you’re not friends with any of them. Besides, what would you tell them? You know what will happen if you say anything.”

“Fuck off, Dean,” I hissed. I went to close the door, but Dean was quick to stick his foot out, wedging it between the door and the frame.

“Nuh uh uh,” he tsked. “Won’t you invite me in, little pig?”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Oh, but why?” He asked, smirking. “You scared?”

I lifted my chin, standing up straighter. “No.”

He chuckled darkly, bending slightly to meet my eye level. “I think we both know that’s a lie, little pig.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Dean,” I hissed. I kicked at his foot sharply, unwedging it, promptly slamming my door shut in the process, turning the lock. I backed away from the door, feeling under the small table near the front door for my gun.

I screamed as my door was kicked in, wood splintering off the frame. Dean laughed, stepping past the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. It didn’t quite close all the way, but enough so Dean could slip the chain into its lock.

“Here’s Johnny,” he teased, smiling. My eyes widened, and I gripped the gun, ripping it from its confinement, lifting my arm to shoot. Dean moved quickly, knocking the gun from my hand, pushing me back against the wall. He thrusted forward, crashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss.

“Miss me?”

“Get away from me!” I screeched. “Help! Somebody please help me!”

I sobbed as he fisted his hand in my hair, bashing my head back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “Almost telling Sammy about our little roll around. What did I tell you, hmm? Have you told anyone else?”

My eyes were blurred from the tears. Somehow my nightmares were coming true. Somehow hell had shown up at my front door, rearing its ugly head and laughing as fear twisted my insides and made my head spin. What had I done to deserve this?

“No,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone. I won’t tell anyone. Please just leave me alone.”

He ran a hand down my face, thumb smearing my tears across my skin. “Oh, but I can’t do that. You disobeyed me. You made Sam skeptical. You must be punished.”

“No,” I cried. “Please, Dean. Please don’t do this.”

He gripped my hair tighter, jerking me down the hall, my fists beating against him the whole time, fighting, kicking, screaming. He simply bent down, picking me up, and carried me into my room. He threw me onto my bed, hands gripping my thighs as he flipped me over onto my stomach.

“Now, bad girls must be punished,” he said. He reached underneath me, fingers unbuttoning my jeans. I kicked back at him, my heel meeting the fleshy part of his thigh. He grunted, and I clawed away from him, but he simply pulled me back down. “Well, that just made things so much worse for you.”

He yanked my jeans down, throwing them somewhere in the room, hands tearing at my simple cotton panties. Tears blurred my vision, and I desperately tried to crawl away. I fisted my hands on the mattress, trying to somehow escape from his hold. 

I cried out as his palm collided with my ass.

“Tell me, have you been with anyone else since me?” He asked. I sobbed, screeching behind clenched teeth as he hit me again. “Answer me, bitch.”

“No,” I said. He laughed. I hadn’t heard him take off his belt, but I heard the snap as he pulled it taut. “No, no, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he laughed. He brought the belt down, letting it smack against my bare skin. The sting radiated through my back. Dean was strong, and each time his arm was brought down, the belt would send another striking shot of fire through my body. I was frozen with pain and fear. Dean didn’t have to hold me down after a while. I couldn’t move. “This is for your own good, Y/n.”

I didn’t know how long he struck me. Over, and over, and over he striked, and I lost count after twenty. My hands were clenched in the mattress cover, tears soaking the fabric beneath me, clouding my vision.

I finally heard him throw the belt aside, and his hands curled around my hips, lifting my bottom into the air gently. He softly caressed my skin, and I jumped when I felt his lips touch the welts. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed my lower back slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. I froze, not sure what I was supposed to do. I knew moving was out of the question. I was in too much pain to move. Confusion sunk into my bones as he slowly kissed up my back, until he was hovering over me.

He turned me slowly, gently placing me on my back, eyes looking down at me. He tilted his head, thumb wiping away my tears. “Hey, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”

“Don’t cry?” I whispered. “How do you expect me to be okay with all of this, Dean? You broke me in Purgatory. You’ve haunted my dreams for the past two years. Then you do this? Just kill me and get it over with. Please.”

He shook his head, furrowing his brows. “I’m not here to kill you. I actually, believe it or not, came to apologize. But as soon as you opened the door I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Like I believe that,” I hissed. “Just get the fuck out.”

His jaw ticked, and suddenly his resolve faded. For a second I saw remorse, and now? Fire raged behind his leaf green eyes. I felt his whole body tense against me. I felt him… grow… beneath me.

“Fuck no,” I said. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I rolled away from him, landing on my back on the wood floor. I cried out as my raw skin made impact, but I pushed myself up quickly. Dean was up now, his eyes hard and piercing. 

“Come here, little pig,” he snarled. I spun and dashed towards the bathroom. He leaped over the bed after me, but I was already inside, locking the door quickly. I heard shuffling, and I knew I needed to think fast. I spotted the window and yanked my robe off the hook, slipping it on. I stepped onto the toilet, pushed the window open, and peered down the three flights my apartment was up. I swallowed thickly, glancing back at the bathroom door. The doorknob was jiggling, and I knew he was picking the lock. Mustering up the courage, I hoisted myself up and swung my legs over. The door suddenly burst open, our eyes locking.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. I took a deep breath and looked down again. Just as he lunged forward, I let go, feeling the rush of air and my heart plummet to my stomach. My eyes were wide as I watched the ground rush up on me all too quickly. I tried ducking my shoulder to attempt to roll, hopefully saving my legs and head in the process, but I couldn’t quite get there. I felt something snap as I hit the ground, a sickening crunch sounding in my ears as I landed on my side. 

“Y/n!”

That voice was different. That voice was angelic... kind. Sam.

“Oh my god,” he said. He bent down, hands cradling my face as he looked into my eyes. “Hey, stay with me. Are you alright? Jesus- of course you’re not alright, you jumped from a fucking window to get away from my brother. God, Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why does he hate me so?” I whimpered before everything went dark.

***

“Should she be asleep this long?”

“Her body is healing. It’s up to her now.”

***

“Get the fuck out.”

“Sam… I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t come up with these-these lame ass excuses. I saw what you did, and I have an idea about purgatory. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”

***

“She will stay with me.”

“And you are?”

“Her brother.”

***

I jolted awake. My body was on fire, my head pounding with a dull ache. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light above my head. A beeping sound came from my right, and a quick glance showed an EKG meter. A fucking hospital.

My shoulder was bandaged and arm in a sling. My knee had a brace on it. My behind felt raw as shit.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I tried to sit up.

“Y/n! Thank God.”

I jumped at the sound of a voice. 

“Sam.”

“God, Y/n… I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told him.

“No, but I should have known. I should have done something. God, I can’t believe it.”

I sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on the scratchy blanket that was laid over me. I furrowed my brows.

“Sam… did Dean tell you what happened in purgatory?”

Sam swallowed thickly. “No. But I can guess.”

I nodded slowly. “He told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone.”

“Have you?” Sam asked.

“My therapist,” I replied.

“A therapist?”

“Yeah. I needed one,” I said. “I was… broken when I got out. I was getting so much better, Sam. I felt like me again. Sure, I still had the nightmares sometimes but… I wasn’t always looking over my shoulder.” My lip wobbled as I fought back tears. “Damn him.”

“God, Y/n/n. I can’t believe it. It just seems so… not Dean,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sam, I know you mean well, but please stop saying sorry,” I said. He smiled and blushed.

“Sorry.” He cringed. I laughed.

“Stop it,” I told him, pushing his shoulder lightly. He laughed too, grabbing my hand. He kissed my knuckles.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” I told him. “But I knew that where you went, Dean went.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

Sam and I both looked at the door, a plump woman in a white lab coat standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, glasses pristinely balanced on her nose, lips lined with deep red lipstick. She looked like a T.V. doctor, not a doctor in middle-of-nowhere West Virginia.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. She checked my vitals and IV bag.

“Sore,” I replied.

“Your brother here has offered to take you home,” she said. I looked pointedly at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Look here.”

She shined a light into my eyes, checked my bandages, and determined that I could go home as long as I was supervised for 48 hours. I silently wondered where Dean was, hoping I wasn’t going to see him. If Sam was taking me home, who knows what would happen? Dean knew where I lived. But if Sam was there, perhaps he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.

***

“Are you alright?”

Sam gently placed me onto the motel bed, careful not to hurt me. His brows were furrowed in worry and his lips were pursed into a frown. I let out a shaky laugh.

“No,” I said. “But I’ll get there.”

“Y/n, I’m so-”

“Stop it!” I scolded. “What did I say?”

“Not to apologize anymore?” He said slowly.

“That’s correct,” I said. I laid back onto the pillows, which were worn, but on my sore shoulder and back, they honestly didn’t feel too bad. “Now, mama needs to rest.”

Sam snorted. “Okay… mama.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t mock me, Samuel.” He raised his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, mama,” he said. “I’ll call Cas. He can heal you.”

I perked up at Castiel’s name. The gentle angel and I had been good friends. I heard whispers about him too, while in purgatory that is. I shivered at the thought of that place and…

No. I wouldn’t think about that now. I was safe with Sam. Surely Dean couldn’t find us here. Right? Sam would have taken measures to keep him from doing so.

“Hey, Cas. It’s Sam. Listen…”

Sam’s voice trailed off as he stepped outside the room, closing the door softly behind him. Suddenly, the room turned eerie. The air conditioner hummed loudly under the window, producing some sound in the empty room. It was confining. I shifted on the bed, wincing as my shoulder moved in an odd way. I adjusted my sling to a more comfortable position. I hated these things.

I sighed deeply, glancing towards the door again. I blew a piece of hair out of my eyes. Alone. It wasn’t an odd sensation to me. I had been alone for the last two years. But I had slipped so easily back into the comfortable familiarity that was once me and Sam. I had missed him so much. He was my best friend, my confidant. Being around him again was liberating. It lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Telling someone what had happened in purgatory, besides a therapist, lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Of course, Dean would kill me if he knew. But it felt good to get it out, not have it bottled up. Dr. Ramirez was great, of course. But she wasn’t Sam. Wasn’t a friend. 

However, now that the room was empty apart from me, the only sounds of the air unit and the springs of the old bed creaking, I was left alone with my thoughts. Vivid images of Dean flashed before my eyes. Of purgatory, across the street at work, the alley, my apartment. Damn him. Damn him for abusing me so. Damn him for not caring. Damn him for giving me a false sense of hope when he spared a silver of remorse. And damn me for loving him.

Did I still? No, I didn’t think so. Not the Dean who hates me. Who hurt me and raped me and tormented me. Not that Dean. Perhaps the Dean who loved his little brother beyond comprehension. The Dean who would throw himself in the line of fire for a stranger. The Dean who sacrificed everything for the world, the world that was so cruel to him. 

Fuck. Of course I still loved that Dean. It was like two separate fucking people. A Dean who would light up at the sight of pie and tell you everything about a band he liked simply because he wanted to share something he loved with you. A Dean who was so selfless, you would need to make sure he wouldn’t go off and get himself killed for absolutely no reason but to save a fucking dog. He would have one look on his face, and then turn to me. That look would turn cold. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, would turn to ice in a split second. That voice that dripped of rum and sticky honey tore through my heart like daggers in ice. How could someone be so cruel? 

A sob escaped my lips. I was so tired of crying. I hated crying. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand from my good arm. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore. 

Luckily, Sam opened the door then. It made me jump slightly. Castiel was behind him. I grinned.

“Cas.”

“Y/n,” he said warmly. He walked over to the bedside. He rested a hand on my good shoulder. Cas wasn’t one for touchy-feely shit. But with me, he was always more comfortable with it.

“I’m going to heal you,” he said matter-of-factly. I gave him a nod, a light shining from his hand. A warmth filled me, starting from my head and reaching to the tips of my toes, and suddenly I felt better. I gave him a grin, which faltered at the look on his face. 

“Cas?” I asked. “What is it?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “It’s… it’s a curse.”

“What is?” Sam questioned. He stood up from his seat at the small table by the window. I glanced at him.

“You have had a curse placed on you. An old one. I’ve seen it before, though. In heaven,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen it before now. Perhaps since I hadn’t had to heal you before.”

“A curse in heaven?” I asked.

“It was designed by the archangels. It was to keep soulmates apart.”

“What?” Sam said. “Soulmates? Surely you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking,” Cas said. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

Sam furrowed his brows at that. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Okay, so a curse. What kind of curse?” I asked. “Who’s my soulmate?”

“The curse is complicated. It can only be placed on one soulmate, and the cursed mate would need to be an interference with a plan from heaven or God himself. ”

“What sort of interference?” Sam asked. Cas hummed.

“Y/n must have stood in the way of her soulmate’s destiny. Her path must cross with them, meaning that she would have altered the path chosen for her mate by heaven. The curse makes it so one of the soulmates hates the other for no particular reason. They can be downright evil towards them. Y/n’s soulmate, if she ever comes across them, may even want to kill her. The curse causes one of the soulmates to do terrible things to the other. They can act one way, and their soulmate walks into the room, suddenly they are filled with an unexplainable rage. There are times where the soulmate can feel remorse or even come to love the one who was cursed. However, the second they lie eyes on the cursed soulmate, their hatred returns.”

Holy fuck.

“If you don’t mind, Y/n,” Cas continued. “Would you mind letting me touch your soul? It should tell me who your soulmate is. I know every path for every human soul. I should be able to see.”

“I… I think I may know who it is,” I said softly. Suddenly my blood ran cold. It felt as if the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in a single second. Soulmate may want to kill me. They will hate me. Do terrible things to me. They are suddenly remorseful, but once again turn evil once they lie eyes on me. Fucking hell.

“Who?” Castiel asked. I looked to Sam, who was staring at the ground. I saw it dawn on him, saw the realization flash across his face. His head snapped up to mine.

“Dean.”

***

“Are you fucking joking?”

I flinched at his words. Dean stared- no, glared- at me from his chair. He was chained to a chair in the dungeon. “Precaution” Sam had said. Dean wasn’t too happy with it. I sat in a chair about six feet from him, right outside the devil’s trap. His lip curled into a snarl.

“I’ll fucking kill myself if this bitch is my so called soulmate.”

“I’ve already touched her soul, Dean,” Castiel said. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay? And?” Dean prompted.

“Not only is she cursed, but she’s your soulmate.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned.

“The archangels placed the curse on her at birth. When they found out she was to be your soulmate, they cursed her in order to keep her from interfering with their plan to have you as Michael’s vessel. If she wasn’t cursed, they foresaw the two of you already together; married and two children.”

My heart ached. I could have had that? Instead, my soulmate had abused, raped, and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. Great.

“Gag,” Dean said. He spit at the ground towards me. “You told them. You know what would happen if you did. You’re fucking dead.”

“Sam,” I said quietly. I looked up at him. He gently placed a hand at the back of my head in a comforting gesture.

“It’s alright,” he said.

“Now, there is a way to remove the curse. It is painful, and tedious, but it may allow you two to venture forth into a soulmate’s relationship.”

“Fuck that.”

“I can’t.”

Although said at the same time, all eyes turned to me.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Cas asked. Sam sighed.

“Cas, not now.”

“I mean I can’t be with someone who-who was so cruel to me. You don’t know the specifics of purgatory,” I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. My lip threatened to wobble. I sunk my teeth into it. “When this is done, I don’t know if I can be here anymore.”

“Y/n,” Sam said. “When this curse is lifted, the Dean who did those things to you will not exist.”

“It’s true,” Cas said. “The curse alters your soulmate in a way that they’re unrecognizable. It turns their personality completely sour, turning them into a new person. The Dean that will be shown to you when this is over will be the real Dean, the Dean you saw when you weren’t near him. When you’re cursed, it’s like he’s possessed by an alien body.”

“But it’s still his face. His hands. His… everything.” I shuddered. 

“That was fun, wasn’t sweetheart?” Dean said. “I still remember how you felt. Tight virgin… Mmmm. Once I’m free of these chains, I may take you again. Maybe I’ll claim your ass this time.

“Enough, Dean!” Sam barked loudly. “Cas.”

“You ready, Y/n?” Castiel asked. I looked up at him, to Dean, and back again.

“Yeah, just one thing first-” I looked at Dean, right in the eye- “Go to hell you son of a bitch.”

Then Castiel’s hands were on the sides of my head, a blinding pain searing behind my eyes, and all I saw was black.

***

“Sam, how am I supposed to live with it?”

“You just do. It wasn’t you. It was the fucking archangels. They did this to her. Not you.”

“It was still… me. I just couldn’t stop it. God, I can’t believe I…”

“Hey. Stop it. I mean it, okay? You beating yourself up with it will not help you in the end. When she wakes up, she’s going to need us. Okay? She’s going to have to re-learn trust and-and love and learn to trust you.”

“If she wants to leave, we need to let her leave. I don’t blame her if she hates me. You heard what she said, Sam. She said she can’t. And I get it. I understand. I don’t want to put her through anymore pain, okay? She needs to live without fear and without pain and suffering. She’s a good, beautiful person inside and out. She didn’t deserve anything I did to her.”

“It wasn’t you!”

“It was, dammit! It was my hands, my body, my fucking words. God, Sam. We may have been cursed, but it was still me. Okay?”

“You heard Cas. It’s like you were possessed. It wasn’t you. Fucking get it through your thick skull.”

“Tell that to her then. If she believes it, I will. This is about her. Not me.”

I could register their conversation. Feel the dull ache in my head. Smell the faint smell of the lavender incense I used to like to burn. The issue was getting my eyes to open.

With heavy lids, I opened my eyes slowly, struggling to keep them open. The brothers stopped talking and I could feel them staring at me. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing at my temple.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Sam said slowly. “You feeling okay?”

“If you consider feeling like you’ve been hit by a train ‘okay,’” I said. “Fuck.”

I looked up at them both, Sam’s eyes warm and lips curled into a sympathetic smile. I forced myself to look at Dean. His eyes were focused intently on his hands, but I could see his jaw clenched and chest moving quickly as he took rapid breaths. His leg bounced repeatedly. He was nervous?.

He looked up at me finally, taking a deep breath, holding it a moment, before letting it back out. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied lowly. 

“Should I leave you two alone?” Sam asked.

“No,” I said quickly. Dean winced, but I ignored it. Like hell I would be left alone with him. “Cas did it? The curse is gone?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah it’s gone. Dean um… Dean’s fixed, I guess you could say.”

“Is he?” I asked bitterly. 

“Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t have words. I can’t express how sorry I am.” I looked down at my hands. “There aren’t words to describe the guilt I have. I don’t know what to say or do. I’m just so, so sorry.”

I took a deep breath before responding. “At least I know why I loved you for so long.”

That clearly was not what he was expecting to hear. “W-what?”

“Before purgatory, when things didn’t… escalate… I loved you. I loved the you that wasn’t around me. I thought I was fucked up, loving someone who was so cruel to me. But now I know I couldn’t help it. You’re my soulmate. What are the fucking odds?”

His lip quirked slightly. “I… I loved you too. The me that wasn’t around you. It honestly was like two different… me’s essentially. I loved you, and every time I wasn’t around you, I told myself to apologize and fucking fix myself. But then I’d see you and… this anger just consumed me. I couldn’t understand why. And then in purgatory, being around you 24/7, it’s like everything was heightened. I just wanted to make you hurt.”

I flinched and his face softened. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“No, I want to hear this. I want to understand what you were feeling,” I said. “Maybe it will help me… differentiate you from, you know… cursed you.”

He nodded before continuing. “Like I said, being around you constantly made everything worse. It was like the anger and hatred all heightened. So the night that I… hurt you… I wanted to cause you such profound pain. But I didn’t want to kill you. I think deep down, even cursed, I couldn’t bring myself to kill you. Although the curse hated you, I loved you. You were always so gentle and kind. You’re easily one of the smartest people I know. You’re beautiful and funny and innocent. I fell in love with you, and the curse despised that. It wanted to hurt you. And it did. And for that, I can not apologize enough. What I did… it’s unimaginable. I am so sorry, Y/n.”

We simply sat looking at each other for a moment. Sam sat uncomfortably beside Dean. He glanced between the two of us.

“You’re stressing me out, Sam,” I said finally. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but Dean and me.

I cleared my throat and fiddled with the edge of the blanket laid over me. “I… I don’t know what to say, Dean. I really don’t.” 

“Don’t say anything, then,” he murmured.

“I want to forgive and forget. Lord do I want to forget. But this isn’t something you can overcome so easily,” I said. “I was so close to being fixed. I was so much better, but you showing up at my apartment and beating the shit out of me like that… it tore down the foundation I had built back up.”

“I had come to apologize,” he said. “And then I saw you and it all went away.”

“I know,” I told him. “It confused the fuck out of me, your fucking mood swing.”

He whistled. “No shit. It confused me.”

We sat in silence for another moment. I wasn’t scared per se, just uncomfortable. If he was “fixed,” I had nothing to fear. I knew I had nothing to fear from Dean now. However, I would never forget the malice and callousness he showed me for years. That night in purgatory was forever seared into my brain. That trauma and heartache and pain would live with me forever. It didn’t matter if he was fixed or cured or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It still happened. It was still at his hands. That’s not something to simply get over.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said softly. “If someday you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me, then that’s your business. I don’t deserve it and I’m not expecting it. But maybe, if you’ll let us try, to start over, someday we could become friends.”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, Dean.”

I watched his face flash with an emotion I couldn’t quite explain, before masking his emotions. “I understand.”

“Maybe,” I told him. “Don’t bank on it.”

Dean gave me a small smile. “I’m in your hands, Y/n. I’ll be here if you want. And if not, then I respect that.”

I yawned then and Sam stood slowly. “Let’s give her some rest, Dean. She’s had a long week.”

Dean nodded at his brother and gave one last look at me.

“I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll live with this guilt until the day I die. I hope… I hope you find the happiness and peace you deserve.” He gave me a tight lipped smile and closed the door behind him, evidently taking all weight in the room with him. I let out a deep breath that I had been holding and rubbed at my temples. I laid back onto the pillows, letting my eyes trace designs on the ceiling in the dark of the room.

Sleep found me not long after, and no matter what knowledge I had now, or the safety that was Sam across the hall, I had no control of the nightmares that plagued my dreams and danced behind my eyes. Dean Winchester may have been cured. He may be himself around me now. However, what he did will forever live with me, and no angel cure or spell undoing will ever change that. 

And so, I walked through the valley of darkness that were my dreams, and I battled the demons caused by the man who stayed down the hall from me. Yet I slept, knowing that what tormented me behind closed eyes was no longer alive, and the man who had broken through the chains around my heart all those years ago was back and in the foreground. Though I wasn’t sure what my feelings were towards him now, knowing that what he did to me was the result of an archangel curse, I did know that perhaps someday, once we tread through the tumultuous ground that was fear and contradiction, we may learn to live in peace with one another, even if he had loved me and hated me; even if I had loved him and hated him. Yet the most important thing, the thing that allowed me to rest, if not soundly, but at all, was the fact that he no longer wanted me dead, nor did he want my blood on his hands. 

So though nothing was back to normal, and I didn’t plan on being around Dean anytime soon, perhaps I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. Maybe I could finally find the solace and peace that I deserved. I think the world at least owes me that.

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[mc-critical]

hey, welcome back! hope your exams and stuff went well, and that you're doing fine now.

i wanted to hear your opinion on nigar hatun. i remember seeing one post of yours in which you said that she wasn't a favourite of yours like you favoured other characters and honestly, same. i didn't really much understand the fascination with her. she was an interesting character, but i can't imagine having her as a favourite when there are so many more characters who are far more interesting. i wish they gave her an alternate arc. idk what it could be, i'd like to hear your opinion on it. one alternative ending i came up for her is that she was extremely angry at ibrahim for toying with her and hatice for keeping her sweet little esmanur from her so she joins hurrem to defeat them? which hurrem did try but it didn't really go anywhere and nigar was against hurrem for killing ibrahim which just was kinda frustrating. they literally give hurrem no ally in the harem [except mihrimah later on but mihri is overall varying in terms of power] so it would be good for her to have some support in the harem from people who actually hated her enemies like her. she had actual political support from iskender celebi, rustem, and ayaz pasha and all, sure, but she didn't have much support in the harem, like all powerful women of the harem were against her. nigar obviously wasn't powerful like a sultan but she was an old member of the harem, was respected and even though she kinda lost her dignity with the scandal, she could've regained it with hurrem's help. sumbul was there later on but he was just a very faithful servant and didn't really have any real motive to harm any of hurrem's enemies except for out of his loyalty whilst nigar could've cultivated a hatred for hatice and ibrahim. this is a basic plot but i would've kinda liked seeing it. there can be many more ways her character could've ended but it would be good seeing a woman who didn't bow to her feelings all the time. the sultanas couldn't really control their feelings when it came to love because they were princesses who were used to getting what they wanted most of the time but nigar was a servant who also suffered the hardships of slavery and it obviously would've made her tougher as a person so she could control her feelings better; idk, i feel like this is an aspect of women they could've explored [or if they did explore it, i don't remember it lol my memory lapses a lot so i don't remember the show 100%] anyway, would like to hear your thoughts on nigar. thank you. welcome back again <3

Thank you! <33 Yup, I'm fine and the exams went well. Happy Pride month to you, too! 🏳️‍🌈

Hehe, I wrote that post years ago and while Nigar still isn't one of my absolute favourite characters, I've warmed up to her quite a bit. And honestly, now with the wider experience in the fandom, I can say that she isn't all that loved as it looks like. I then was under the limited wrong impression that the BG Mamma forum was a metric of all the popular opinions and yes, they loved Nigar a lot and I was sometimes confused as to why, but really, that and the Russian fanbase are the only places I have encountered that appreciate her all that much. There are characters I find more interesting than her, that's for sure, but she has her charm and I'm firmly against people reducing her to "evil" or "manipulative" or "weak after she fell in love with Ibrahim", so forth.

The thing she sets her first impression with is her intelligence caused by her relatively high experience in the harem. The advice she gave to Hürrem opened the path to her whole goal (as she herself acknowledged in E41) and that makes for quite an impact for a more recurring character. Despite of this, I never viewed early Nigar as someone taking an open side, hence I didn't find her supposed betrayal to Hürrem surprising in the slightest: she is also trying to survive in this environment in any way she knows how and she can't really find a fully comfortable position, because she is well aware that everyone is thinking for their own gain in the end. Including her. So the only choice she has left is to direct herself to where the wind is blowing and get advantages for herself once she gets the chance. Because all the experience has taught her to repress her feelings (E10 to Hürrem: "In this castle you can't show weakness."), opt to be the more level-headed person and seek for the more pragmatic solutions.

And yet she is very sensitive and perceptive to people that are different than the others or that are in need and is willing to lend them her hand. She adviced and helped Hürrem because she found potential in her, because she wanted to see her succeed, but not through endangering her own self or other people in the process (she told Hürrem that her game had gone too far again in E41), but through negotiation, compromise and adaption, to know when to start and when to stop and be respectful to those above her, no matter how hard or limiting that may look in Hürrem's eyes. Hürrem had the tendency in viewing every sign of support that came to her as granted, she still had that naive part of innocence in her in S01 and early on was in a desparate need of someone to lean on and unconditionally follow her path, that's why when Nigar diverted from that path, it hurt and took her a while to start trusting her again. But I didn't see Nigar as all that attached to Hürrem as Hürrem herself thought she was, especially with how Nigar became stuck between two sultanas later in S01 and that rendered her lost and more insecure than usual.

That's also why I don't view her as a two-faced or hypocritical double-crosser. Because for the longest time, Nigar was the one character in the series before Rüstem appeared that was clearly thinking about her own benefit and survival first and foremost from the beginning when darting between the powerful people in the harem and was the one well aware that she simply can't cling to a single side in her own position. Positions aren't permanent and can always change in such circumstances, so why can't she take advantage of this? Because who cares as much about the feelings for a Kalfa they can still order around after all? She has faced disregard from Mahidevran, Hürrem, Ibrahim and even Hatice. It is pretty understandable that she's going to seek the best opportunity for herself.

That whole facade breaks when she falls in love with Ibrahim. During rewatch, I found myself to have a soft spot for this character deconstruction, especially in S02. I know that it came to pass because of her falling in love with a man that doesn't share the same feelings and there were moments where it looked like she overdid it, even in S02, but for me, the whole thing nicely added a new layer of depth, while still feeling true to Nigar's character. Her future relationship with Ibrahim had been building up back in S01, when Ibrahim (both inadvertently and not I fully believe) played a part in helping her solve the first internal conflict she had (that is the struggle between the two sultanas). Maybe this didn't mean that much to Ibrahim, maybe he was simply trying to be helpful, but it meant a lot to Nigar - that was probably the first time someone seemed to take her feelings into account and actually listen when she couldn't help, but crack under the pressure. So it is only natural that she would search for this source of comfort once again, being ready to face every risk in the process. When she is appointed to Hatice and Ibrahim's castle, when she's practically left alone with Ibrahim, she decides to take that chance, to taste the forbidden fruit. He gave her something she never received and due to her not allowing herself to show weakness and having to cave to everyone else's demands before that, every ounce of affection Ibrahim shows her, it means the world to her. Thus she begins to idealize what she has with him, to the point of denial and delusion, and centers her loyalty completely on him. But that loyalty never seems to falter.  She began to resent and/or hate everyone who could possibly stand in Ibrahim's way, something she wouldn't have ever done before. She keeps her level-headed self and intelligence (I don't think that this plot line reduced it in any way, not even when she was at her worst.) and she's ready to take any opportunity for herself (case in point: her marriage with Rüstem.), but now her softer sides and her wish for affection are showing all the more.

The problem I have with Nigar's character, writing-wise, and now that I think about it, the main subject of why I didn't get the deal with her back then (along with considering her S01 self bland.. somehow?), is her S03B characterization. While her falling in love with Ibrahim plot-line became an important part of S02 Nigar's storyline, I don't think it overshadowed or dominated over her other characteristics, making for a neat balance of traits and an interesting, nuanced character. In an attempt to keep her for longest time possible in the story, S03B flanderized her in every possible way and overexaggerated her biggest strengths and flaws until they became stale and unbelievable. Her love for Ibrahim read as а near obsession narratively and her opportunism coupled with her will for revenge, which put her into many repetitive intrigues. At one point I even felt she was reduced to a plot-device (the moment Şah Sultan appointed her as a spy) and she felt a little too purposeless and to have totally outstayed her welcome until her last moment in the series.

The root of this problem is again, that they just didn't know when to stop with Nigar. To be brutally honest, she had no long-term role left to play after Ibrahim's death and it was time for the writers to let her go and maintain her generally strong characterization. The ending I would've chosen for her is to simply have Matrakcı give her Esmanur's location and for her to live with her daughter in piece. I know that because of the tonal shift, the show seemed to be already inclined that everyone had to have a tragic ending of sorts, to underline the growing ruthlessness and cruelty of the themes, but I fully believe that Nigar was one of the only characters that were terribly forced through their tragic endings. She didn't need, nor deserve a tragic ending and I doubt it would've been such a problem for the half-season if she didn't get one. I find a happier ending to be perfectly fine for Nigar and I would've loved to see it, if only for a freshness in ideas for character endings. I loved her Esmanur storyline and to witness her finding happiness with her, the only solace she had left, would have been a great wrap up of her S03 plots and an amazing send-off to Nigar's character.

I appreciate the thought you have put into your ending for her and to be fair, your proposal would be much better than anything S03B gave us. It would nearly correspond with the revenge plot of hers they were going for and it would be something more original at the same time. Hürrem's principal lack of allies doesn't bother me as a fact alone, because all her enemies have understandable reasons to be against her, but what bothers me however, is when the writers try using it to dumb her enemies down and make them doom themselves through their own failings or outright use it to put forced (often soapy) conflicts to make the audience sympathize with Hürrem. Or to make everyone "mistitle" her (is that a word? probably not.) or disrespect her on purpose again for sympathy points (that go beyond the part of her motivation that wants to feel respected and does stuff out of fear not to fall under a less favorable position once again.), without changing the status-quo until say, S04.

It is so deliberate it becomes annoying and seeing something else for a change... honestly, gimme! While I personally prefer a happy ending for Nigar, I would live for Nigar and Hürrem to work together again, while keeping what's become her central motivation intact. It may seem a little OOC for Nigar to work for Hürrem by that point, because she's channeled her loss of the most precious people into rage on those that have taken them away, but it would be a decent shifting of gears and a reverence to her opportunism to work to eradicate those she hates for good, even if it means doing so with one of your bigger enemies. After all, after the mission is fulfilled, she could still work against Hürrem in some way, right?

[Tell me if I got what you meant wrongly, but there is an example of a dynasty sultana putting her love feelings behind and by that I mean Şah Sultan. Her love is in the past by the point she arrived in the castle and her love for Ibrahim is only used as a conflict between her and Hatice, which they get over relatively quick. Sisterly love and ambition are a much bigger priority of Şah's: she cared about Hatice past any resentment she may have harbored over the years and agreed to share her life with Lütfi for the advantage this may bring, even though she didn't love him at all. She divorced him only when he offended the pride of a woman and her own personal pride. Other than that, we indeed didn't have a female character in MC that puts her feelings behind in design as far as I recall, only ones that end up clinging to them completely like Nigar here or ones that let go of them eventually like Mahidevran. Characters that have this design by default are more present in MCK like Safiye, or Turhan, or especially Gülbahar, but as I've said many times, MCK is more ruthless, while MC is more about the personal feelings of the characters, hence every motivation they have is somehow tied to them.]

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

The Fantastic Beasts Franchise and JK Rowling

Alright, so...hi everyone.

I don’t know how many people follow this blog anymore because my main blog of operation is now @alwaysahiccupandastrid - I still try to keep this blog relatively active though, just because it was my original blog, I’ve had it since I was 13, and I have so many memories attached to it.

I’m aware that a lot of the people who follow me, especially since late 2016, do so because a) I was a loud and proud Fantastic Beasts fan, b) I wrote some Newtina and Jakweenie fic, and c)...I don’t know. I literally don’t know why people bother following me anywhere because I don’t feel like I have a lot to say. But, anyway, many people probably follow me due to Fantastic Beasts and my posts/fanfics within the fandom.

Those who follow my active blog will already know my feelings and thoughts, but because of the fact many things about this blog - me, the posts for the last four-ish years, the url itself - are Beasts related, I felt it was necessary to come and write an actual post here instead of just reblogging things and calling it a day. I’ve always been very outspoken online, but I’ve been avoiding a certain topic of conversation on this blog for years now, and I’m finally in a place where we can discuss it.

I am, of course, talking about the hot topic that is JK Rowling.

Back in the days between FBAWTFT and FBTCOG, I was a very outspoken defender of JK Rowling and her decision to defend Johnny Depp’s inclusion in the films. Now, this is something I still stand by to this day, and due to the evidence that has since come out, I’m even more steadfast in the opinion that keeping Depp was a great decision. I am fully in support of him and the way he’s currently battling against his abuser. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about right now. As I was saying, back in the day, I was outspoken about the opinion that “we don’t know the full story” etc., and as a result I received very colourful anon messages. Now, to my knowledge, none of these were about JKR being a TERF/transphone, but I think it’s important to mention that at the time I scoffed at the idea she could be one. I openly admit that I didn’t listen to what other people - including actual trans individuals - were saying about JKR and her transphobia because I frankly didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to admit that the person who wrote something that saved my life could be so hateful and a bad person - that, and at the time I passed it all off as “wokeness out of control”.

It is now 2020. Up until last Saturday night, I was still in support of JK Rowling - I didn’t agree with some of the stuff she had said, but I was trying to be positive and have hope by telling myself that she didn’t mean to be transphobic, that she just didn’t know what she was doing was wrong, even though the evidence clearly showed otherwise (I.e. her liking transphobic / radfem tweets). I said to my followers on my Beasts page that instead of cancelling people outright, we should be attempting to educate them instead, and if they choose not to learn then fine. And, being 100% obvious, I didn’t want to admit it because I frankly already was feeling annoyed at two different Beasts cast members for different reasons: Ezra Miller (for choking a girl) and Dan Fogler (for his tweet about BLM - admittedly that was probably him being well intentioned but not saying it right). So yeah, I didn’t want to cancel another member of the Beasts “family”.

I had JKR’s tweets on notifications, and for the most part over the last few weeks, it was all about the Ickabog. However, on Saturday night I noticed that she had suddenly tweeted something completely different, and I looked at it. Given that I had adamantly defended her and said “freedom of speech” for so long, it’s telling that my first thought upon seeing her tweet was literally “for fuck sake, Jo, why”.

I won’t post her tweets here but to sum that first tweet up, it was her being annoyed over the term “people who menstruate” being used in an article instead of “woman”, and mockingly saying “there used to be a word for that” before pretending she didn’t know the word. She knew that tweeting it would start arguments and anger, and yet she still made the decision to do so. Her follow up tweets frankly dug the hole deeper; she tried to defend herself by saying, to sum it up, “I have a butch lesbian friend who agrees with me” “I just care about women’s rights!” And “IF trans people were marginalised I’d march with you!” (“If”, of course, being the real kicker here because what do you mean IF. They ARE. Every DAY.)

Since then, JKR has written an essay on her website defending herself and her opinions, and yes, I read it. I read it a few times, in fact. At first, I felt my anger simmer and felt I had been too hasty to make anti JKR jokes, that I was wrong...but then I read it again properly and realised that what she had written was a piece that turned herself into the victim, and that despite putting on the appearance of her saying she supports trans people, including the phrases “I support trans people” and “of course trans women are real women”, she still spewed much transphobic vitriol and hate. She cited no sources for any of her proclamations or statements about statistics, implied that trans men transition to escape their “womanhood”, that trans women are men in dresses, that trans women are dangerous to “real” women (aka cis women) and shouldn’t be allowed into women’s changing rooms or toilets. There was also the autism comment, and the implication of autistic girls somehow not being able to make decisions or whatever.

I’m going to get straight to the point: I don’t support JK Rowling or her radical feminism.

As someone who is a proud feminist (libfem?), I can honestly say that never have I felt threatened or like I was being silenced by the inclusion of trans women in feminist spaces or conversation. Never. In my second year at sixth form, I was in charge of the LGBTQ+ club until a new leader with better leadership skills could step in, and - put simply - that year, the club was made almost entirely of first year transgender students. Even though I had called myself a trans ally for years, I realised there was a lot I didn’t know, and I learnt quite a lot from these students. I continue to still learn today. They were some of the nicest and most intelligent people I got the chance to meet, and I can truly say that at no point was I ever worried to be in a room alone with a trans woman, nor was I concerned about which bathroom they went in - bathrooms are bathrooms. Speaking of bathrooms...when I was at uni during a particularly tense rehearsal a few weeks before our final show last year, a guy in our group made me cry and I ran to the women’s bathroom to escape. Not only did the other girls come to comfort me, but you know what? The guy came in and apologised profusely to me. Did any of us girls give a shit about having a guy in our toilet? Absolutely not. It’s a fucking toilet. And, on that note, I was never worried about a trans woman or even a cis man attacking me in the toilets. You know who DID attack me in the toilets regularly? Other cisgender women.

As a feminist, I fully support trans women and am not threatened by the inclusion of trans women in women’s spaces or in women’s rights discussions. While I agree that cis women and trans women inevitably go through different struggles, at the end of the day, we all identify as women and are women. I think that if your feminism is so threatened by the existence of trans women - TERFs, RadFems, JKR, looking at you - then your feminism is flimsy and not feminism at all.

As a woman, I find it highly offensive that JKR and many RadFems focus so much of womanhood and feminism on an involuntary biological function that, frankly, many of us would rather do without. Yeah, I’m talking about periods - no matter how proud I am to be a woman, I still fucking hate periods and would get rid of mine if I could without erasing my chance of having kids someday. I can hear the RadFems accusing me of “internalised woman hatred” for saying I hate my periods, but you know what, they suck and they hurt and fuck them. The fact that JKR (also the the radfem movement) reduced “women” to just people who menstruate and can have children, and vice versa, is incredibly offensive and misogynistic. For a start, trans men menstruate, intersex people can, non binary can etc. Next, not even ALL cis women have periods - women who are menopausal, young women who haven’t started puberty yet (some do start very late), some women don’t have regular cycles, some women have medical problems that affect their cycle, some women are on birth control that can stop their cycles. So the idea of women being defined as “those who menstruate” is offensive not only to trans/intersex/non binary individuals but also to cis ones too.

As I write this, I’m a 22 year old woman who is still learning and changing every day, and one of the things that I’ve found myself thinking about recently - especially since we’re in lockdown and we have nothing BUT time to think - is about myself and my identity as a woman. What prompted this was when I saw Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved book, “Little Women”, which I’ve since read, for my birthday back in January, and I left the cinema feeling exalted and powerful with my own identity as a woman. (I’ll be returning to LW in a bit)

After some thinking, I’ve realised some things. For me, my identity as a woman is not just because once a month my uterus decides to shed; I do not identify as a woman just because I have certain physical features. I am not a particularly feminine person either, and I’m what some may call a “tomboy” (a phrase I actually don’t mind but I know a lot of people do for understandable reasons since it’s a phrase designed to differentiate people who don’t conform to society’s expectations etc) because I prefer video games and more geeky stuff to shopping or dressing up or make up.

For me, there is no one way a person has to be or appear in order to identify as a woman. Women are beautiful, complex human beings; we are not defined by our genitalia, by an involuntary biological process. Women are strong, intelligent, and interesting people - no two are the same. For example, some decide to raise families, some choose to pursue a career, some do both - all of these are valid and none are more “feminist” or “womanly” than the others, because it’s our as women. I guarantee that if you lined up every single woman in the world - cis AND trans - no two would be the exact same.

I mentioned “Little Women” earlier, and as I was pondering over what makes me identify as a “woman”, I thought a lot about a certain quote from the 2019 film that has stayed with me since it was first said in the release of the trailer. It’s spoken by Jo March to her mother, and I’ve started to understand what for me makes me a woman.

For me, being a woman is all of this: having minds, hearts, souls, ambition, talent, and being beautiful each in our own ways. Women are capable of love and empathy, capable of desire, capable of the most complex and human feelings and emotions, and coming out the stronger for it.

Sex is one thing; gender identity is another.

I won’t dissect every single thing JKR wrote in her essay, but I will just say this: her comments regarding autistic girls are extremely tone deaf and she does not speak for those with autism. I’m going to be honest and admit something here I haven’t before: I have not been diagnosed with autism or aspergers but I AM currently on the waiting list to see someone who COULD diagnose me. Apparently I show signs of a potential diagnosis, so...we’ll have to see. But I have friends who are autistic, and they’re disgusted by JKR trying to use them to support her TERF arguments. Autistic and other neurodivergent people are absolutely capable of making decisions and are NOT people who need to be babied or have their hands held, to be told who they are. It’s incredibly ableist of JK Rowling frankly.

I would also like to point out... I’ve seen people saying “but she doesn’t hate autistic people, Newt is autistic!!!” - yes, but JKR didn’t write him as autistic. Eddie Redmayne chose to play Newt as autistic - JK Rowling didn’t do shit.

It’s also time that I acknowledge that both Potter and Beasts inevitably hold JKR’s problematic views, and that by denying her ownership of her work, we’re not holding her accountable for the horrible things she’s done. This includes - but is not limited to -:

Anti-Semitic stereotypes in the goblins

Lycanthropy being used as a metaphor for AIDS - an illness that is heavily associated to the gay community, and also there was the panic of the AIDs crisis in the 90s where much misinformation and homophobia was generated and spread because of it.

Adding further to the lycanthropy point, one of the infected individuals - Greyback - is stated to have a sick preference for infecting children. Not only are werewolves tied to harmful gay/AIDs stereotypes, but also to the disgusting and frankly wrong notion that gay people are pedophiles.

The only Asian character is called Cho Chang. Cho Chang. That’s two steps away from outright just calling her “Ching Chong”. It’s not a name an actual Asian person would have.

The Goldstein sisters are probably distantly related to Anthony Goldstein, who JKR confirmed (on Twitter of course) is Jewish, meaning that Tina and Queenie are most likely Jewish too (and Goldstein is a Jewish surname). However, despite the fact that the first FBaWTFT is set DURING Hanukkah in 1926, there’s zero signs of them celebrating or observing it. Maybe that’s more on set design than anything else, but come on - if I, a fanfic writer, can do some research, JK/the crew of a major movie can too!

Adding on from that, gotta love how one of the JEWISH main characters then decides to join the Wizarding world equivalent of Hitler. I already had problems with Queenie’s characterisation in CoG, but that’s the icing on the cake.

POC/Black characters - in both series but since I’m a Beasts blog... Seraphina Picquery, a Black female president serving a term during a MAJOR wizarding world crisis, is severely reduced to have only 3 lines in CoG. Nagini’s only purpose is to be the only friend of Credence, a white man, before he joins Wizard Hitler and abandons her; she’s also an Asian character who we know one day permanently becomes a SNAKE, and who goes on to actually have a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside of her?? And some do see her as his slave, though you could argue that she’s actually the only being that he holds any love or respect for. Leta Lestrange is a half-black woman who is killed/literally sacrifices herself for TWO WHITE MEN, and who’s death was literally confirmed to have been added in last minute.

Also, the whole Lestrange storyline was fucking nasty: white Lestrange Sr imperius-ed a black woman (Yusuf Kama’s mother), raped her, and she then died in childbirth. I’m sorry, what the fuck??

In Harry Potter, Seamus is a terrible stereotype of an Irish person - he likes to blow things up. Look up the IRA and their bombings. Fucking Irish stereotype. As someone with Irish grandparents and who is proud of their Irish heritage, this really pisses me off.

Let’s not forget the whole Native American cultural appropriation. That truly speaks for itself.

So here is where I speak candidly to everyone who follows me and/or sees this post. While Beasts is no longer my No. 1 fandom these days, it and Potter still hold a huge piece of my heart. I have 5 wizarding world tattoos, so much merchandise, and I can safely say that being a fan of both series has shaped me as a person. Both of those series helped me get through the darkest days of my life, including bullying at school, my Nan passing away, and my mental health struggles.

This is why what’s happened has impacted me so much and broken my heart. For me, it feels like it’s tainted now because of Jo and her views. I know that we should separate the art from the artist, but when her views are so clearly woven into the very fabric of the Wizarding world, it’s a huge problem.

Here’s another part of the dilemma - I do not wish for the Beasts films to be cancelled. I’m well aware that the *cough* people who dislike me will say I’m trying to be negative, trying to boycott the series blah blah blah, but that’s truly the last thing I want. I still love the story, the characters, the soundtrack, and I want to know how it ends, if only for my own piece of mind. It’s also important to add that by boycotting Beasts, it’s also harming the hard working thousands of others who worked on the films: the cast, the crew, the extras, the musicians, etc., not to mention the fans who actually are invested in the series and have taken solace in it. It’s not fair for them to all suffer over the actions of one TERF.

This is one of my biggest worries, however: the Fantastic Beasts films do NOT have a good reputation as it is. The second film was boycotted by some due to Depp, and now there’s talk of people boycotting number 3 because of JK Rowling. Lots of people already talk hatred about it, and this will only fire that hatred up even more.

There’s also talk of Eddie Redmayne potentially being kicked from the franchise due to a “leak” that he doesn’t want to work with JKR anymore, but this could be sensationalist news reporting. But if it came down to it, I can honestly say that I would rather continue to have Eddie play Newt than keep JKR as a writer. Eddie has done more for Newt than even JKR has, and if he goes, then that will be the last straw for me within the fandom. That will be when I take a sharp exit out, sell my FB merch and have my tattoos covered.

To add, the Fantastic Beasts scripts are...not great. Or, at least, what we saw on-screen wasn’t. Maybe that’s David Yates being the literal worst (fuck you, Yates, you suck) and cutting all the parts with strong female characters, but I honestly don’t think that JKR can write screenplays well at all. I think she’s clearly better at writing books, and that’s fine - books obviously allow for more time to explore characters and story/plot arcs etc, and film scripts offer way less of those chances. I don’t think screenplays allow her to write what she needs to in order to tell the story she wants to, hence why CoG was kind of a hot mess. So maybe it’s just that she’s not suited for screenplays and should stick to books.

Honestly, I kind of just wish that WB would hire another person to finish writing the Fantastic Beasts movies - obviously they’d have to keep JKR on board to tell them the actual plot, but get someone who can actually write screenplays and not be problematic to write them.

By now I’ve gone on long enough that I’ve forgotten my original intent while writing this, so I’ll try to sum up and end now. In short, I am extremely disappointed in JK Rowling and do not support her or her views any longer.

I don’t know how any of you guys are feeling but I would be interested to hear other people’s thoughts, especially other Fantastic Beasts fans. I want to also add that, as always, my DMs and inbox are always open - if not here, then always at @alwaysahiccupandastrid where I’m more active nowadays.

Finally, you guys don’t need me - a white cis woman - to tell you this but you’re all valid and magical and fuck JK Rowling. Her characters would all be ashamed of her, and the characters we grew up with would not stand for the bigotry and vile hatred she spreads under the guise of ““protecting women””. Several of the amazing actors from Potter and Beasts have spoken out against her and her tweets: Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Bonnie Wright, Katie Leung, Chris Rankin, Eddie Redmayne. Some have been...less inspiring (Tom Felton, Evanna Lynch, looking at you two 👀)

I’m sending love to everyone right now. I wish I could say something more useful but I’ve spoken enough - I’ve made my opinion clear. I love you all, please stay safe.

[princesssarisa]

22 questions

Thanks, @cinefantastiquemitho!

01. The book that transformed your life. Freak the Mighty. It traumatized me so much in middle school, I think it singlehandedly changed me from a mostly happy (if quiet and overemotional) child into a moody, anxious teenager. The same goes for it’s ‘90s movie adaptation, The Mighty, starring a young Elden Henson and Kieran Culkin. It’s about the unlikely friendship between two misfit middle school boys: Max, the big, hulking, “stupid,” somewhat mentally disabled protagonist with a traumatic past, and “Freak,” an intelligent yet small, severely crippled, and (spoiler alert) terminally ill boy who rides on Max’s shoulders and serves as his “brain,” leading him in modeling their lives after the knights in the Arthurian legends he reads. Basically, it’s like Bridge to Terabithia meets a PG-rated Midnight Cowboy with Arthurian themes. I was forced to read it and watch the movie in school and it shook me to the core because I identified too much with Max. Not that I ever thought I was stupid, but since I was also a physically heavy, intellectually disabled, socially awkward, often teased, withdrawn misfit, I saw myself in him, very, very much. So to watch his struggles, and then in the end to see him devastated by his only friend’s death, hit hard. If that spirit medium I recently talked to was telling the truth about my past life as Emily Brontë’s best and possibly only friend, then maybe subconsciously I saw her in Freak (since she was also a “freakish” misfit who nonetheless was highly intelligent, witty and imaginative) and relived her illness and death in his. At any rate, it plunged me into a long depression that must have seemed inexplicable to the adults around me.

02. The movie that changed your way of seeing the world. The 1983 telecast of Madama Butterfly from the Arena di Verona, starring Raina Kabaivanska as Cio-Cio-San. In hindsight, it was a flawed production. Kabaivanska was a 49-year-old Bulgarian grand dame, not the least bit convincing as a 15-year-old Japanese girl. The tenor, who was supposed to be her worldly seducer, was young enough to be her son. There wasn’t a single Japanese person in either the cast or the creative team – it was all a European fantasy of Japan. For that matter, Madama Butterfly is inherently problematic with its racial and gender issues (in other news, water is wet). But watching this old telecast on VHS, out of curiosity about Miss Saigon’s source material, was the real beginning of my passion for opera. I was already familiar with The Magic Flute, but this was the start of my love for opera beyond that one. The tragic romance of the story, the visual beauty of the sets and costumes, and Puccini’s sumptuous musical score captivated my fourteen-year-old self. It led me to VHSs of La Traviata, Carmen, La Bohéme, Tosca, Rigoletto, Les Contes d’Hoffmann, L’Orfeo and Turandot, as well as other videos of Butterfly, and then to opera performances onstage. It gave me a new passion and gave me something beautiful to share with other people through “Opera Quest,” the program I’ve created to introduce opera to elementary school students. I’m so, so grateful to it!

03. The music that makes part of the soundtrack of your life. Opera, Broadway/West End show tunes, and Disney songs.

04. Define longing. It’s wanting, but deeper and stronger. It’s constant wanting, painful wanting, wanting that almost becomes obsession.

05. If you got back in time, which scene would you visit of your life? Any of my Thanksgiving visits to my grandma in Mesa, Arizona. Of course I’d love to see her again – she died 12 years ago – but I also loved wandering around the pretty retirement community where she lived, listening to Les Misérables or to Andrew Lloyd Webber on my headphones, and then sometimes swimming in the outdoor pool. I also loved the restaurant we always went to for Thanksgiving dinner, and if possible, going to see the lavish Christmas lights at the Mormon Temple a day or two later.

06. The place where your heart is. Los Angeles. Even though I wasn’t born there, it’s the earliest place I remember. I grew up there and it’s only been four years since I moved away. Every time I’ve gone back to visit since, I I’ve had the overwhelming feeling of “I’m home!” Even though I’m glad not to be living in a big city right now, I wish I lived closer and could visit more often.

07. The travel of your life. I haven’t travelled very much outside the US, though I have been to Canada, London and Ireland. Within the US, I was born in Connecticut, I’ve lived most of my life in California, and I’ve spent a lot of time in New York (relatives live there), Washington State (more relatives live there), Arizona (my grandma lived there), Florida (other grandparents, plus Walt Disney World), Montana (still more relatives), North Carolina (still more), and Minnesota (family friends). Once each I’ve been to Chicago, Boston, Cape Cod, and small towns in Vermont and New Hampshire, and I’d love to go back to each of them one day. I’ve also been to North Dakota, but don’t remember it very well, and I’ve spent at least a few hours each in Las Vegas and Salt Lake City, but not long enough to do much of anything.

08. An author that you have met recently, and whose works you want to continue to read. Not too long ago I took a writing class taught by April Halprin Wayland, who wrote the beautiful Jewish children’s book New Year at the Pier about the tradition of Tashlich on Rosh Hashanah. I’d definitely like to read more of her books, especially her Passover children’s book, More Than Enough. I’d love buy them for my little cousins on the Jewish side of my family.

09. Coffee or tea? Herbal tea. Rooibos chai is my favorite.

10. Who's your Doctor (if you don't watch Doctor Who, who's your favorite character from a TV series)? I couldn’t say. I don’t watch Doctor Who or much TV at all anymore. Let’s just say I love the main characters from all the TV shows I watched when I was little.

11. If you could just throw everything away and live your dream, what would you do? I’d buy a safe and luxurious self-driving RV (this is a fantasy, after all) and travel all over the US, living in a different place for a week, two weeks, or a month at a time. In this fantasy, there’s no pandemic going on, so I have the freedom to go anywhere. I’d visit every big city, every cozy small town, and every notable place of natural beauty, I’d go to the opera and see local productions of Les Misérables wherever I could. I’d visit my relatives whenever I liked. I’d present “Opera Quest” at a local school in each place I visited. But I’d also spend plenty of alone time in my RV, or in whatever hotel or inn I chose to stay in for a little while, and work on the books I’m writing, listen to music and meditate. There would be no pressure on me from anyone to do anything. That would be amazing.

12. If you could choose to be a character from a book, TV series or movie, who you would be? None. Some of them have nice lives, but they all have their problems too, and I’d rather keep my own problems than take on theirs.

13. What makes you not like a story? Characters we’re supposed to like being cruel and spiteful to each other and neither regretting it nor being properly called out for it. If their behavior is clearly supposed to be bad and treated as such within the story, it’s one thing. Even if they never regret their own behavior, that’s fine as long as the other characters call it out as bad. But when they don’t, I feel like the author is saying that anyone would be just as cruel and spiteful in that situation. That it’s no big deal, it’s just human nature and anything better would be unrealistic. I hate that.

14. Do you like romance in stories? Why? Yes, I do like it. Not if it’s badly written, but when it’s well written, I love it. I love watching two characters come to care so deeply for each other, fill each other’s deepest needs and bring each other happiness. Of course that happens with platonic love too, but romance is the way it most often happens in stories.

15. Which book did you hate having read? Well, I didn’t like having to read Candide as a college freshman, because despite all its humor, it’s cynicism depressed me. I was going through a stage where I was feeling overwhelmed by the world’s problems and had turned to idealistic spiritual beliefs to comfort myself, so I hated having to read a book that essentially said “Optimism is stupid, the world is a terrible place, there is no God and no good reason for anything, and all we can do is try to make the best of our individual lives.” (Yes, I know that’s a vast oversimplification of Voltaire’s philosophy – it just came across that way to me at the time.)

16. Which movie did you hate having watched? I’ve already mentioned The Mighty, above, so... another one... When I was seven or eight, I saw Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory for the first time, and I was very disturbed at the end by Wonka’s angry outburst about Charlie and Grandpa Joe stealing the Fizzy Lifting Drinks. Of course everyone can agree about how scary and mean Gene Wilder acts in that scene. But imagine how much worse it would be to an ultra-sensitive little kid on the autism spectrum, especially since I wasn’t expecting it. I had read the original book already, so the fates of the four bratty kids and the infamous boat scene didn’t phase me because I knew to expect them. But movie-Wonka’s final test is a movie-only addition, so I had no idea he was going to start screaming at poor Charlie, and to me at that age, an adult suddenly screaming in rage at a child was scarier than a child turning into a blueberry any day. Yes, it’s only a test, Charlie passes it and all ends happily, but it still upset me.

17. Do you like anime/manga? Any favorite? It all looks very nice, but apart from seeing Kiki’s Delivery Service and a few episodes of Pokemon as a kid, I haven’t experienced much of it. Maybe I should explore it more.

18. Who is the best villain you saw in a story? I don’t think I can choose just one from all the stories I know. For the best villain from Shakespeare and opera, I’d probably have to say Iago, because of how thoroughly effective his scheming and manipulation are. For the best Disney villain, I’d have to say Frollo, because of how horribly realistic he is: as an abuser of power, a racist, a religious bigot, a sexual predator, a psychologically abusive foster parent, and in the way he believes everything he does is holy and right. But there are so many good villains in all genres of fiction, choosing just one favorite is impossible.

19. If you could do an interview with any person, alive or dead, from our world, who would you choose and why? William Shakespeare. I have so many questions about his plays. They’ve all been interpreted in hundreds of different ways and I’d like to hear what his real intentions were when he wrote them. And for that matter, if he really did write all of them or if there’s any truth in the anti-Stratfordian theories.

20. If you could meet and and befriend a writer, who would it be? I just said Shakespeare, but I don’t want to repeat the same answer twice... Well, if that spirit medium was right, then I’ve already met and befriended three famous writers in a past life: Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë. Supposedly I spent “many hours” with all three of them, but was especially close to Emily. If that’s true, then I’d love to meet them again, do some catching up, and talk with them about the modern controversies surrounding their books... especially Wuthering Heights, which seems to defy easy interpretations of its characters and themes.

21. Cats or dogs? Dogs. I just adore them!

22. If you could choose any time period or society to live, which it would be? A year ago, I would have said “right here, right now.” But with this global pandemic taking place and the future of the world and of America in particular feeling so uncertain, I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather live in one of the fantasy worlds I’ve created: either the Sisterhood of Nira’s valley (the setting of my completed but unpublished novel An Eternal Crown) or Zalina Island (the setting of the Beauty and the Beast and Little Mermaid retellings I’m working on). Those places might have flaws of their own, but at least they’ve made social progress that this country hasn’t made, and they have magic too. If I could I’d move to one of them, at least until the pandemic is over and we have a new president.

I tag @simone-boccanegra, @astrangechoiceoffavourites, @nitrateglow, @thatvermilionflycatcher, @sunlit-music, @theheightsthatwuthered, @fairychamber, @wuthering-valleys

[karazrel]

I hate that they kept trying to parallel Ellie and Abby. It felt like a huge slap in the face to people who love Ellie to have her being compared to Joel's murderer, especially when that person ruined Ellie's life and got her happy ending. I tried having an "open-mind" about her I really did but I still hate her so much.

fair warning, this got really long cause i basically spilled my entire thoughts about this game here lmao

honestly as with everything else in tlou2 im more conflicted than anything about abby. ive seen both sides of the argument when it comes to her character and find myself agreeing with both of them. as of right now (and it may change if i ever replay the game) i don’t particularly like abby either nor did i really buy into the whole sympathetic character the game was trying to sell her as. i’ll start by saying that i understand why we played as her and think that it was a good narrative tool (although it was too long for my liking) but her character failed to resonate with me for multiple reasons.

first of all, i dont think the fireflies and abbys dad (whose name i dont even remember) were fully in the right. if anything they are the ones who did wrong by ellie. that drs introduction is him saving a zebra and they clearly try to make him seem like a good guy but then he turns around and he’s fine with killing ellie for a potential vaccine and WITHOUT giving her a choice at that. and then he pressures marlene into it despite admitting he wouldn’t do the same if it was abby. but it’s all good cause abby said she’d been fine with it????? except ellie never got to have that choice cause he’s a pos who was happy to never ask her AND hide it from joel. yes i know it’s the apocalypse and lives are at stake but a scene that’s supposedly trying to show us the side of the fireflies came off as nothing but hypocritical and didnt make me feel sorry for him in the least.

so from the get go, i couldn’t fully sympathise with abby, because yeah i get it it’s her dad and she’s obviously in a lot of pain but the guy was a piece of shit so im not gonna lose sleep over his death. and more so than that abby is a very generic villain, she couldve been the daughter of any of the staff in that hospital, a much more interesting choice as many people have pointed out already wouldve been a relative of marlene - a sympathetic character who we cared about and joel actually wronged - instead of this random new girl thats supposed to be as compelling as the characters we’ve loved for 7 years.

then we come to the fact that for me, abby relishes the violence she enacts. dont get me wrong, joel is a killer too, but with the exception of david’s men he doesn’t enjoy hurting people, it’s a simple fact of survival for him. even when killing that dr, he didn’t do it out of a desire for violence, he did it to save ellie. abby on the other hand took pleasure in torturing joel - something he hadn’t done to her father - and in front of tommy and a sobbing ellie no less. and it’s a pattern that spills over to her own gameplay where she talks about wanting to torture the scars and being fine with killing kids. those scenes made it extremely difficult for me to view abby as sympathetic, because for the most part i never got the impression that she felt sorry for any of her actions, which is why the parallels between her and ellie completely fell flat imo. yes ellie was on a quest for vengeance too, but when you really examine it - almost everyone she kills with the exception of nora - she does out of self defence and then she’s completely overcome with guilt over it. abby enjoyed torturing joel, killed jesse and tommy, was happy to find out that dina was pregnant and would’ve killed her too, if not for lev, all without a hint of remorse.

and then theres the fact that i felt like the game was trying to force you into liking her. every other scene its almost like theyre screaming “look! she has friends too! she has relationship problems! she’s a human being with complex thoughts and feelings! shes sad over their deaths!! oh she’s even a good person cause she helped lev!” it was - for me at least - a lot less subtle than they probably thought they were being, and it just made me roll my eyes because like. okay we get it. youre trying to say abby is a person too, but i and almost every other person who played the game have the emotional intelligence to come to that conclusion without it being spoon fed to us.  

i know this makes it seem like i completely detest abby, and i don’t really, if anything i’d say im just indifferent towards her. i did feel bad for her at the end and didnt want ellie to kill her but that was more to do with how horrific the rattlers clearly were (it was brutal seeing someone like abby become a shadow of her former self) and my desire for ellie to find peace which she never would’ve, had she killed abby. i maintain that her gameplay time shoudlve been majorly reduced, but overall like i said at the start, i get it and i think they did a relatively good job of executing the story they clearly wanted to tell. but even after completing the game, i just dont think it was enough to get me to like her, nor do i think i ever will because i’m so incredibly attached to joel and ellie which makes it near impossible for me to sympathise with a character who destoryed half of what made me love this universe so much in addition to basically ruining ellie’s life. ill fully admit that im being biased, but when it comes to these characters i cant exactly help it.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love pt 16

Here’s the next part. This involves quite a bit of a time skip. 

Next part marks the halfway point of the story, bringing us back to the very first scene between Ronan and Lenora. Things are definitely going to change! 

Master Post Link here

__________________________________

The Duchy flourished. 

We trained our new officials and solidified checks and balances to keep things honest and efficient. The school expanded to multiple trades, and soon I was cooperating with other nobles to open up similar establishments across the kingdom. Through it all, Armeny led the way, becoming a center for trade, skilled workers and culture.

 Another year had passed, I was seventeen, and coming up on the last year before the big scandal that had ruined my life the first time around. I knew that I needed to move out of the spotlight, so that my fall from grace would have as little as an effect as possible of the work I had already accomplished. 

Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about the business “Prosperity.” No one seemed to realize that I was in charge, and simply seemed to think I was one of their most loyal customers. I would be able to continue to run things from behind the scenes.

But the Duchy was a different story. Most of the nobility knew by this point that I was the one actually in charge. At first, some of the older men had protested to my father, decrying it as “unnatural” and “harmful.” Fortunately the Duke’s laziness was not to be underestimated.  After getting a chance to live a life free of the responsibilities he hated, my father was not going to be coerced into taking them on again. He simply told them he couldn’t be bothered, and that everything would work out in the end. In the face of his never faltering, if vaguely directed optimism, they were forced to give up.  

I had been left in relative peace since then, but that would change once my reputation and status were ruined. To prepare for that, I needed a figurehead. Someone who could help to run the Duchy instead of me, but wouldn’t try to change too many things whenever I wasn’t looking.

And so, I sent for Henry.

A distant cousin on my father’s side, Henry was officially the heir of the title. 

Traditionally he should have been at my father’s side, learning to take over from the time he was young, but that seemed that it had been too much effort for the Duke. I had met him only a few times over the years, he was always quiet, intelligent… if a little boring to talk to, and a hard worker. He spent most of his time studying the different uses of plants, and publishing his findings. 

He had never inherited the title in my previous life. After my family fell from grace, the Duchy had been absorbed by its neighbors, and as far as I knew he lived his life either unaware or not caring that his inheritance had disappeared. He seemed to find joy in scientific study rather than money and the company of others.

He was perfect.

__________________________________

“So I am to take over the Duchy?” Henry sat across from me, drinking tea, his gaze more on the floor than on me.

“In part. You’ll be taking on some of the workload, but I’ll still have a hand in making sure things stay on track.”

He thought that over for a few moments, sighing. “What’s in it for me?” 

THAT caught me off guard.

“You’ll have to be the Duke eventually, and this is part of the job. Also, you get to live in a nice house, you won’t have to worry about money…”

“But I really don’t want the title! I have everything I need at my home.” He shook his head. “I may not have money or a big house… but my plants… 

“I’ll build you a greenhouse, and move your plants here so you can continue your studies. I’ll even buy you more plants if you like…”

“I’ll move in next week.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his immediate agreement once plants were involved.

__________________________________

We built a greenhouse, and Henry moved in without causing much fuss. He took to the administrative work naturally. I found to my delight that not only was he easy to work with, but when we had time he would take me through the greenhouse, teaching me the various uses of different herbs and plants.

“And this is winterblue…” He pointed out a leafy green plant without flowers. On looking closer I noticed that the edges of the leaves were tinged with a light blue. 

“What does it do?” I felt the leaf between my fingers, noting how soft it was.

“Nothing too amazing. If you brew tea with it, it can boost the body’s health. So if someone is showing early signs of illness, this can be a good thing to give them.”

“Anything poisonous in here?” I was mostly joking, but Henry nodded seriously, pointing at the far corner of the greenhouse.

“The more you know about these kinds of things, the better.” He grimaced. “I study a few of these poisons in hopes of understanding how to negate or treat them.”

“Just keep a close eye on them, please.” It made me nervous to have poisonous plants on the grounds, but after a few months of working with Henry I knew better than to try to persuade him to get rid of a plant. “I’d hate to see them fall into the wrong hands.”

__________________________________

My etiquette lessons completed a year earlier than they had in my previous life, having covered a great amount more of material. 

Mrs. Rendler pronounced me a natural genius and claimed I was the best student she had ever trained. I was slightly uncomfortable with the title, given the extra three years advantage that I had, but it wasn’t as if I could set the record straight. I had hoped as the lessons were over I could be excused from visiting the palace, but found myself spending the designated days with the Queen, instead.

The reason given was that I would follow her around, “to get a feel for the work the Queen has to do.” And for perhaps a single week she stuck to this, but it almost immediately evolved into “all the mother-daughter activities Queen Amerande has wanted to do but couldn’t find an excuse to before.” 

We visited other families together, went shopping, walked through various gardens and public sites. I meant to beg off in the beginning, to make excuses and miss the less than useful meetings, but… She was so excited each time. She smiled when she saw me, asking about my week.  We would talk for hours, and although I tried to keep as much back as I could, she somehow would manage to get me to talk about whatever was going on.

It was painful, sometimes. She acted every bit the mother I had always wanted, but I remained aware that it had to be a simple charade. Something that would end once the engagement was broken. And she must have sensed my concern about this to some extent, because although she continued to treat me as she always had, if not closer, the necklace I had refused remained in her jewelry box, likely waiting to be given to Edith once the prince chose her.

It was what I had told her to do, but it still made me uncomfortable to think about.

__________________________________

 Through the next years Nate and I continued to write each other. He seemed to be doing well back in his home country, and was implementing many of the changes we had tried in my duchy back there. His letters were always long, filled with excited rambling that made me smile. It reminded me of how enthusiastic he always was during classes to come up with ideas for the Duchy. 

I missed the time we had all spent together. I still visited the royal treasury once a month but it was more to help Jim teach his newer students than anything else. If I ran into a complex problem I either wrote to Nate for advice or visited Jim on a free day to talk it out. I appreciated still having their support… but it was just not the same as it had been. 

The letters were often awkwardly worded, as Nate struggled desperately to not reveal his identity through them. He slipped frequently, but I refused to think about it, or consider any obvious clues. I didn’t want to care anything about him… the less I knew about him, the better.  

And if I was always happy to receive a letter from him… it was because I valued his expertise in economics… not because I cared at all.

__________________________________

I slowly paid off the family debt, and between the now three stores I owned with Maline, we were both wealthier than I had ever expected to be. We had even opened a branch store geared towards the average person, with well made clothes sold at affordable cost, and soon had to hire more and more people. I was funding my father and mother, as well as Henry’s expenses, but still had plenty more. I put more into the food charity and schools, not forgetting what it was like to not have a job or regular food. 

The Duchy was thriving. The family was wealthy. I had prepared everything I could.

The future would be different this time.

__________________________________

“Miss?” Hallers opened the door, finding me sitting in my office despite the fact that it was well before dawn. “Is everything all right? Why aren’t you in bed?”

I sighed, looking at him with a sad smile. “I’m sorry if I woke you, Hallers. I couldn’t sleep. Just trying to mentally prepare for the future.” 

Today was the day before Ronan’s eighteenth birthday. It was the day of my last “lesson” with the Queen, my last tea with the prince.

The day that had ruined my life was tomorrow.

“I beg your pardon, Miss, but if anyone had prepared for the future, it’s you.You can’t predict everything, but you’ve worked hard and helped those around you.” He smiled, startling me. “ You’ll be a wonderful queen one day, if you don’t mind me saying.”

I laughed at that, not able to explain the irony of his words. He would understand tomorrow. “Try not to put too much faith in me, Hallers, you’ll only be disappointed.” 

He leaned over and squeezed my hand, his eyes kind. “I normally would never disagree with you, it’s not a butler’s place, but I will now: You could never disappoint me. I have never been so proud of someone, as I have been with you.”

“…” I stared at him in shock, as he slowly stood back up, resuming his professional stance.

“Now, you can go back to your room and have a short nap. We’ll bring you some breakfast and send you off to the palace once you’re ready.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that clear?” 

I stood up, chuckling. “What would I do without you, Hallers?” 

“Don’t worry, Miss. You won’t ever have to find out.”

__________________________________

My last tea with the Prince was as boring as ever. I hadn’t been able to bring Edith today, as I was able to most weeks, her mother had wanted her to stay home for a dress fitting. Edith had been annoyed, Ronan was irritated once he realized she wasn’t going to be there, and I wasn’t too happy either. Normally I let them chat together, reading a book as they ignored my existence, him bragging and her complimenting.

 But today... 

“How are your birthday preparations coming along?”

“…” He stared down at the table, refusing to talk. I sipped at my tea, silently glad as I always was that I never let Hallers come along for these outings. I wasn’t sure if the butler had ever killed anyone before, and I wasn’t about to let the Prince be his first victim.

I kept talking, pretending this was a cordial conversation. “I heard your mother hired some of the best musicians around, so the music should be lovely. Of course food will be wonderful…” 

This WAS the one thing I had been looking forward to. The royal chef was amazing, and I had missed out on the food at the party last time as I had left in tears after he broke the engagement. This time around I was determined to get to try some.  

“…” He nodded silently, pretending I didn’t exist. I reached the end of my patience.

“Well, this has been wonderful, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave early. I need to say goodbye to your mother before I leave, and then finish preparations for the party.” I stood up, relieved I wouldn’t have to pretend enjoy his presence after tomorrow, as I turned to walk away, however, he called out, stopping me.

“Lenora? 

“Yes?” I looked back at him. He seemed uncomfortable, but forced himself to speak.

“We’ll need to talk tomorrow, come find me as soon as you arrive at the party.”

Before I even get to eat?  “Sure.”

I walked away, wondering how I could hide from him long enough to eat the food before he broke off the engagement, in case I had to leave the party.

__________________________________

“We need to talk tomorrow.” The prince’s face was serious.

“Of course!” I smiled, hoping he thought I looked pretty. “However long you need!”

I walked away, feeling excited. Perhaps the time we were spending together was finally taking effect! Maybe he wants to tell me he loves me!  With this and other fanciful imaginings, I thought of little else for the rest of the day

__________________________________

“The tea ended so early, did it not go well?” Queen Amerande asked me with a frown as I approached to say goodbye.

“He really wasn’t in the mood to talk.” Especially not to me.

 She reached out, hugging me tightly. “Dear, I appreciate you giving as much time as you have to this, I’m sorry he… he’s like this.”

“It’s fine.” 

And it was. 

I cared little for his personality, habits, or lack of etiquette. It was amazing how freeing realizing that he and I were never going to be married was in how I viewed him. I had always worried I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t pretty or clever or graceful enough to catch his eye. But now, it didn’t matter. I didn’t want him to notice me.

“No, it’s not. He shouldn’t treat you so poorly.” She sighed. “He’s my son, I love him… but that doesn’t mean I wish I could shake some sense into him sometimes.”

“You can’t force these things.” I smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

As I spoke the words I realized: it was the last time we would get to see each other in such a casual setting. My stomach started hurting. I would need to ask Henry to see if he could brew me tea for stomachaches.

Which reminded me…

“I brought you something.” I reached into my pockets, pulling out a packet of dried winterblue leaves. “I was worried you were sounding ill, so if you brew this into your tea, it should help you feel better. 

In truth, she didn’t sound sick at all, but I knew she would be soon.

__________________________________

“Where’s the Queen?” It was my first question on arriving to the party. I was nervous, curious about what the prince wanted to talk to me about. I had wanted to see the Queen first, but looking around the ballroom, I didn’t see her anywhere.

“I heard she was too ill this morning to attend.” Edith smiled at me as she spoke. She was dressed much nicer than normal, and seemed… excited, almost. I wondered what was going on, but dismissed the question as soon as I thought of it. 

“I hope she feels better soon.” I murmured, making plans to visit the next day. 

Edith’s smile widened. “I’m sure she will.”

__________________________________

 I had never gotten a chance to visit her after the engagement had been broken, but I remembered hearing that it had taken her quite a few days to recover. 

Of course… it might have all been an excuse to avoid me after her son broke our engagement.

Even as that dark thought crossed my mind, I handed her the tea. If she truly did get sick in the past life, maybe the tea would help, and if not… well, the tea wouldn’t hurt.

Queen Amerande took the tea, looking slightly confused. “You know, I must look more sick than I realized. I feel fine, but this is the second time someone has given me tea today.” 

That caught my attention, “Someone else brought you tea?”

“Yes, your friend Edith brought me some tea leaves earlier today. She said it would help ‘calm my nerves.’” She shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling stressed, but since she was a close friend of yours I was planning on trying it tonight to be polite. But now I’m afraid I won’t.” She clutched the tea I had handed her, looking extremely happy. “My daughter gave me something better so of course I have to use that instead!” 

Dancing around, you would have thought I had given her jewels or gold rather than a simple bag of died leaves. “It will be the best tea I’ve ever had!”

I laughed at that. “You haven’t even tried it yet!”

“You gave it to me! So it’s the best!” She pretended to frown for a moment and then gave me a hug.

I hugged her back, and then made my goodbyes, preparing to leave. The Queen stopped me, handing me a different tea bag. “Here. This is the tea Edith gave me. It’s not the most polite thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t really drink medicinal tea all that often.” She grinned. “Unless of course it’s been given to me by family. You’ve had a lot going on lately, though, so maybe it can help with your stress.”

Shrugging, I took the bag. I would likely throw it away, I wasn’t very eager to try anything from Edith. I was curious that she had made the trip up earlier without me to see the queen, but on closer thought, it made sense. Edith was going to be engaged to the prince soon. She was probably trying to make a good impression on her future mother in law.

It was funny… I had no issues with the thought of her marrying Ronan, my fiancé… but the idea of her being Queen Amerande’s daughter in law made me want to scream in frustration.

I must just be tired.

__________________________________

I headed home, feeling determined. Tomorrow was the day I had been preparing for ever since I had been reborn. So much was different, but still this day always had loomed ahead, a reminder of the terrible ending I had once faced.

It would be different this time.

I was different this time.

I was ready.

[bigskydreaming]

A thing that makes me always raise my eyebrows is the insistence that Tim is “obviously” the smart one. Not only it’s contradicted in plenty of official DC material, but it doesn’t make sense because you can’t measure genius and even if he was it wouldn’t make the others less brilliant. They're all confirmed prodigies. And yet the extent to which this headcanon is treated as law, it's such that sometime it’s difficult not to wonder why they chose the high-class boy to lord as the smart one.

Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve seen any of my posts about finding it pointless to compare and rank members of a family whose high concept is they’re ALL Mary Sues, essentially, but you’re dead on about not being able to measure genius. As far as I’m concerned, canon validates the idea that they’re all genius-level intellects and when everyone in the room is a genius, who the hell even cares who the ‘most genius’ is?

Like, its one thing to emphasize different areas of expertise and the way they correlate to the different siblings’ personalities, to give them each a measure of distinction - for instance, personally I tend to write Dick as the most intuitive of the kids and most strategically minded when it comes to coordinating and understanding people and their motivations, strengths and weaknesses. I write Jason as the most tactical minded, better suited to taking point in operations or cases that revolve around understanding and manipulating situational and environmental factors and elements. I mention a lot how similar I view Dick and Jason being and this is another one of those areas….they have very similar fields of genius, but slightly different focuses in how that manifests.

Tim, to me, is the most analytically minded, which is what for me makes him the most like Bruce in terms of HOW his mind works, his approach to things, not because he and Bruce are like, top tier and everyone else falls somewhere beneath them….rather, I view Tim and Bruce being similar in that they both excel at compartmentalizing not just emotions but big picture puzzles or issues in general…they’re good at ‘taking apart’ situations, disassembling them to their individual components and thus making deductions that others miss or would just take more circuitous routes to reach. I would also put Babs in this particular school of thought as well.

Damian is still developing so its hard to say for sure yet since writers in canon are still feeling him out in a lot of cases, which results in a lot of his inconsistent writing in particular - they’re still trying to find what methodologies and areas of expertise will make him most distinct as he ages, I feel. But personally, as of now I would actually put him and Steph as being similar in their genius lying in adaptive thinking….Damian in particular does not get nearly enough credit for how MUCH he changed and how QUICKLY, in terms of comic book time…..he’s shifted entire worldviews of his in a matter of just a year or two, based on an influx of new information and new paradigms, which is NOT easy to do. People focus overly much on his temperament, I think, and use that to pigeonhole him as stubborn and not all that different from when he first debuted, but those are just mannerisms. His actual ways of thinking have dramatically shifted in a very short time.

Cass I would put on the other side of Dick….like if Dick’s genius lies in  emotional intelligence, strategic thought, and intuitive thinking, those areas….Jason’s to the right of him, overlapping most with strategic thought and intuitive thinking, while Cass is to the left of Dick, more heavily oriented around emotional intelligence and strategic thought. Though again, all of them have high degrees of all of the above, I’m just talking about what gets emphasized most in most of their thoughts and actions relative to each other, specifically.

Duke is also still developing, due to how new he is overall, and how few writers other than his creator have written him. But for the moment I see him as a mix of adaptive genius, emotional intelligence and deductive reasoning.

But bottom line….they’re ALL exceptionally brilliant. There’s no way for them to do what they do otherwise. The entire premise of the Batfamily is you put any single one of them on a team or in a room filled with anyone other than their family….and they’re going to end up in the top percentile and usually take the leadership position, even while there are other bonafide genius inventors, scientists and intellects in the room. They’re a family of geniuses. Its just fact, lol.

So like you said, the casual insistence on Tim, Babs and Bruce being the most genius, despite repeated canon instances of all the others easily keeping pace….its suspect, and doesn’t help that Tim, Babs and Bruce are the three characters with the most ‘normal’ middle and upper class backgrounds, while Dick, Jason and Steph had lower class origins and Dick, Cass, Damian and Duke have unorthodox upbringings and are characters of color.

Like I said, I myself see certain similarities in HOW Tim, Babs and Bruce approach situations and overlap in their methodologies and schools of thought that the others don’t necessarily share to the same degree….and these actually could theoretically stem from certain similarities in their early backgrounds that the others don’t share as much. But these are all about the APPLICATION of their intellects. It has nothing to do with like….them being smarter than the others or more adept at problem solving, outwitting bad guys or making save-the-world strategies, things all of them have done in abundance.

I feel like way too many fans put way too much effort into picking apart canon in search of panels that definitively prove so and so is the smartest Robin or best detective in the family, when the reason it IS so hard to find a definitive answer for that and the reason fans of every character have provided ‘proof’ that backs up their claim that their fave is the smartest….

Is because that’s not a question that has an actual answer and all that’s really being proven is that every single member of this family is a freaking genius.

And again, there is no blue ribbon or gold medal for being the mostest genius.

So the more people insist on treating those specific three as obviously the smartest, and the more its taken for granted and not questioned….yeah, that’s when I raise an eyebrow with you, anon, and go….are you sure you guys are actually saying what you think you’re saying there, because some of us are hearing something a little different here.

[thoughtlessghost]

Salem ou alekoum fellow disbelievers,

I decided to write this story down because one of my friends is currently questioning Islam. She said it might be a good idea for me to share my journey to help her and others find inner peace once you have walk out of something you grew up thinking was correct. I think I will make this a 2-3 parts series depending on interest and how she deals with just part 1. There's a lot to go through, and I will try to be brief, but I do not mind elaborating on any section in the comments or private. I am very open and confident about who and what I am. Finally, I want to have at least one part dedicated to my current worldview with the hopes of helping you guys create your moral landscape.

Finally, I would like to complete this preface by saying that I know that we all have personal reasons for leaving a Religion. Some of you have left the faith because you felt as though it was too controlling; others may have felt that God was simply too cruel. I will say that in the end, those were not the deciding factors for me. In my view, only Truth matters. Therefore, for me to stop believing in a concept, it merely has to be proven untrue, whether scientifically or logically. So my journey of leaving Islam did not originate because I had problems with its takes on the world. They occurred in large part because I feel as though Islam is inconsistent with our understanding of the natural world. Given the purpose of writing this is to help people, and that most people don't make decisions based on logic, I will try and emphasize how events and not thoughts affected my worldview to help illustrate how and when the transition occurred.

1. Humble beginnings: I know everybody has a different upbringing, so I would like to give you guys some context of how familiar I was with Islam growing up as a child (4-12). For starters, I am the eldest son of first-generation Algerian immigrants to Canada. This is just to tell you I'm brown, and I went to a school surrounded by non-muslims. In school, I was a troublemaker. I was basically this brainy kid who cared so little of rules and norms that I was almost transferred to this school for a learning disability. In response, my dad would beat the shit out of me every day for not being an obedient student despite my grades being decent (during that period B to B+). Despite his sincerest efforts, I never learned or changed. I'm only saying this because it made Arabic school impossible for my parents to manage since I simply refused to do my regular homework from school. My thinking was something like this: "What's the point of going to ANOTHER school on the weekend and spend all of my time off doing pointless alphabetical exercises in a language no one other than my parents spoke?" This, in turn, limited my exposure to Islam since I didn't interact with other Muslim kids. Finally, my parents bestowed upon me few Islamic teachings or practices. For instance, I fasted, I didn't eat pepperoni pizza, I was a relatively good kid, and I knew of prayer. Still, it wasn't something we did in our household. So I basically ended up with the same amount of knowledge of Islam and Arabic as Mohammed did when he was visited by Gabriel.

2. The quest begins: By the time I reached 14, I began to change mentally (One would only hope). I had stopped being this rebellious kid and became a book worm. I read encyclopedias, watched documentaries, binged read Wikipedia and genuinely wanted to learn everything the world had to offer. Therefore, religion seemed like the next logical step. Another reason that pushed me to that position is my first adolescent trip to Algeria. It was the first time I had truly been exposed to Islam, and I felt like I got a good whiff of what it meant to be a Muslim. And so, I decided I had now come of age and was of sufficient maturity to read the Quran and become a proper Muslim. I purchased a translated version of the Holy Book and waited until nightfall to open it. I vividly remember the mindset I put myself in before opening the book. I told myself the following things:

1. Bismillah. (YAH BOY) 2. I am about to read a book written by a being that is not human. (how fucking cool is that?!) 3. It is a book of ultimate and limitless knowledge and is the literal word of God.   4. It will guide me now and forever, for it is a timeless work meant to guide all of humanity.

By the time I made it halfway through Al-Baqarah, the second chapter of the book, I was mortified. For whatever reason, God presented himself as a terrifying merciless being. So many verses spoke about how powerful God was, and for some reason, it felt weird to me. It's almost like Bill Gates flaunting billions at a homeless person or a fisherman trying to shame a fish on how it cant breathe once it's out of water. I also felt as though too many verses spoke about eternal damnation instead of collective upbringing. In essence, it wasn't the book I expected. I was hoping for the key to save my soul and help humanity. All that ran through my head was that I was unworthy and had to dedicate myself or else face the consequences. But I persevered. Over the next few days, I kept reading while trying to keep an open mind, but I was definitely feeling perplexed. What I could not wrap my head around was the following: If God can indeed do anything, why can't he have a son?  Like all this talk about how Powerful he is, but he can't have a son?

It was around this time I started to explore other religions. However, there were so many religions that existed that it would take an eternity to study and contemplate every single one. So I elaborated the following shortcuts:

1. I skipped Judaism because a "true" faith can't have fewer subscribers than the city of New York. That also threw a bunch of other religions out the window. In my view, a Divine being should do a good job of spreading his work even if he has to do it remotely. 2. I skipped polytheistic religions like Hinduism because multiple Gods seemed odd to me. 3. Buddhism didn't have a deity, can we, therefore, call it a religion?

By that flawless logic (lol), I thought that Christianity was likely to be the One True Faith. But there were inconsistencies. For starters, the faith had multiple subdivisions and multiple versions given the Bible was written after the life of Jesus. Suffice to say, I agreed with most Muslim criticisms towards Christianity's essence manipulated by men. If Christianity is the real deal, then God would have cared a little more. As a side note to my thinking, the book of Narnia really helped me appreciate Christianity. It portrayed a more merciful caring version of God that wanted what was best for his disciples and all that existed. Yet the feeling of a merciful and just God was simply not sufficient to make me convert.

And so I started to think about atheism. However, I could still feel the presence of God. In the end, I just felt discouraged. I wrapped my head around the whole thing when I realized there was a possibility I was simply too immature to understand Islam or the Quran. So, in the end, I decided to postpone my immersion in the faith until later.

3. I committed: By the time I reached 16, I had started rereading the Quran, which actually flowed better this time around. I was relieved to know that my 14-year-old self was simply too childish. Eventually, I stumbled upon a verse akin to the following: Oh, Believers look into the world, and you shall see evidence of Islam. It felt as though God challenged me to learn science and search for proof of his existence in the natural world. And so, I did.

So one thing that occurred to me growing up is that I wanted to learn everything. By the time I reached 12, I thought to myself that if I knew every word in the dictionary, I would end up knowing everything. But the dictionary was dull. So, I decided that if I know how all things came about by reading history, then I would end up knowing everything. So when I read that verse that said learn science, I was ecstatic.  I just doubled down on my readings and started to focus more on scientific theories. I read about physics and the origin of the universe. I read on chemistry and the nature of matter and atomic bonds. By the time I reached biology, Darwinism quickly became very problematic. I thought really long and hard about how to counter it. I started to read into Intelligent Design and watched Islamic Scholars debate atheists. Still, it didn't make sense to me since the evidence for evolution was just overwhelming.

I voiced some of my concerns to a Muslim friend of mine in High School, and we had this long-winded conversation in which he convinced me he was right. I wish I remembered exactly what he said, but I remember him instilling upon me enough doubt to make me not drop the faith. Following that conversation, I decided it was time to commit to Islam finally. Here are a few things I started to do: 1. I started praying 5-7 times per day. 2. I read the Quran. 3. I would watch videos daily on what it meant to be a Muslim and how I can improve on my practice. 4. I would fast every once a while. 5. I went to the mosque whenever I could since it was far from where I lived. 6. I even helped start our prayer group in High School. In that group, we would all sit and eat together. We shared food, laughter and drinks. We were a brotherhood through and through, and for a time, it was good.

Reflecting on this period, I was one standard deviation from being in a CIA hit list. I literally messaged Benjamin Netanyahu on YT, encouraging him to stop his occupation of Palestine and to seak a peaceful approach when engaging with my brothers and sisters. Despite these friendly messages, some darker thoughts flowed through me. So I will say that there definitely is some credence to the idea that the more radical a Muslim is, the more you should worry about him, especially if he is a dude.

So when I say I genuinely believed 100% of what the Quran said, I really did. Some people will say: "Well, yea, I also used to be that way too." Well, I think I took it to another degree. For instance, when I used to walk, I would think to myself there are two people next to me—these immortal, holy beings made of light were sent by God to watch over my every move. I must, therefore, walk and behave in the utmost perfect ways to not only impress them but also uphold my honour. I was 16. 

4.The Masturbation/sleep problem:

Now I'm going to say that the period mentioned above lasted about 6 months. During this period, despite my holier than thou behaviour, I was still a man, and I had urges dawg. Every once in awhile, i.e, once a week, I would lament hypothetically at my hypocrisy. Repression creates obsession; truer words have never been spoken. The more I fought my urges not to masturbate, THE MORE I HAD TO. I created this whole inner mathematical system based on the number 19 since its a particular Islamic number. Basically, I would only masturbate around times when I could calculate 19. To me, it meant God approved of my addiction. I ended up using the time since my alarm clock was next to me. Its such warped logic don't look too much into it for when there is a will there is a way and I can get creative. Here are a few noteworthy examples:

1.Its 1:09 AM. Shit that's 19 to me since all you have to do is ignore the 0, and you have 19. 2. Its 1:45 AM. You guessed it 19. 3.7:00 PM. 19. 4. 12:07 PM. Unzip. 5. 12:17. PM shit, that's 19 too. 12+(1 times 7). Guess its Time for round 2.   6. 12:35 PM. FUCK I have to again you see 1+2+35=38, which is 19 times 2. EYYYY

[Insert COOMER MEME.]

To get over this dissonance, the Devil was responsible for these intrusive thoughts. I was a holy man of God, after all. But the voice that told me to unzip my pants and wax my carrot was the EXACT same voice that told me to go bed when I didn't want too. In the end, I knew deep down temptation doesn't come from the Devil. It comes from me. I decide what I do with my life, not some off-world entity. Keep in mind for later its just this thing I noticed. The Mosque event: So the day started like any other Friday prayer. The Imam began to speak about how God has no equal. He went on about how great and awesome of a sky Chad he was. He said that although he had no equal, there was another being that was insanely powerful as well. My eyes lit up, for I loved Islamic lore. He said that among non-God entities, the strongest was Gabriel. Eventually, he went on to say how to associate any other thing to God's power was literally the worst crime a human could commit. Shirk was worse than murder, he said. It literally guarantees you a trip to Hell.

And so given that I was human when I am told not to think about something, I immediately start to think about it. So I began to think well what if Gabriel stood up to God. I do not know what came over me but I got a literal panic attack from this. [Insert meme it was at this moment he knew he fucked up]

As the Imam had so eloquently put it to associate anything to God, you just committed the worst sin ever. I kept trying to tell myself not to think about it. Still, it just kept repeating it over and over again despite my sincerest efforts. I legit left the mosque and went back home and prayed all night, hoping God would forgive me.

The next morning was wild. I was basically schizophrenic since I kept thinking God was going to smite me for I have sinned. Crossing the street was so hard since I felt God would turn a car invisible and run me over or would simply kill me there where I stood. I lived in utter fear since I felt as though I had a bounty on my head. The inner world that I worked so hard to create had fallen apart from stupid, intrusive, thoughts. How the mighty have fallen.

5.Rethinking the Conspiracies:

A few days later, I started to rethink everything inside my head once I started to calm down. I felt as though my fears were way too irrational for the type of person I usually am and that I could not regain my sanity by thinking I was unworthy. I just simply had to work my way back up to the top fam.

During this time, I also began to rethink my understanding of the political world. For starters, as far back as I can remember, I have always been anti-authority. I believed in political realism, and so large corporations or governments always used their powers to oppress others. And so, what began as a soft-hearted liberal who thought 911 was an inside job turned into a cult of devil worshippers who rule the world and are trying to get us into the End Times.

This political worldview of a small elite who use the Devil to gain off-world power was further validated my understanding of Islam. In my view, the END WAS NEAR. Eventually, people took my ideas and thoughts in High School, and it became its own thing. Just to give you context on the time here, but it was when Lady Gaga dropped Bad Romance, and Kanye West and Jay-Z dropped Watch The Throne. We would analyze the videos and look for satanic imagery, but I always felt like that was a tad bit too far. Why are they being so apparent about something that's supposed to be secret? Predictive-Programming can only go so far after all. I began to pushback on this worldview, and I went so far back that Islam was caught in the cross-fire.

This turned into a three-month-long journey. I started by revisiting natural selection, and I realized that I duped myself. I just did not understand natural selection well enough to defend my position 6 months ago. I read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins. I binged watched George Carlin, and he really helped me overcome any anxiety I had towards leaving my faith because, like him, I really did want to believe in a deity, but I started to realize all of the inconsistencies. [I will elaborate more on this in a later part]

5. The social consequences: By the time I left my faith, I was open about it. I have always been vocal about what I believe in, and I simply told all of my prayer brothers why I stopped going to prayer. Needless to say, they weren't pleased about it. Unlike Elementary School and as a result of our immigration policies, High School had more Muslims in it, and many hated or criticized me for questioning the faith. As time went on, they became more toxic and vicious in their opposition, and so I called them out on their shit. I told them that I am on a journey like each and every one of them, and if they don't want to talk to me anymore, I would not care, and if they wanted to fight me, then bring it on. It was the last time any of them said anything to my face that was negative. Some of them never spoke to me again, some spoke to me less. I respected their choice and moved on; whether they respected mine mattered not. All that I cared about was that I felt that I was moving forward in my life. Eventually, the Muslim prayer group fell apart, and everything went back to normal in my High School.

Now, all of what I wrote happened about 10 years ago, and despite standing up to my fellow peers, I still haven't mustered up the courage to tell my parents. Honestly, I'm glad I still haven't. To this day, I have a good relationship with them, and they are far more religious now than they were. It seems like an egregiously unnecessary thing to do that will not only sour my relationship with them but also with their future grandkids. That just seems too selfish for my liking despite my usual vocal tendencies.

End of part 1.

[embryon-heartbreaker]

Finally getting around to this! Sorry about the delay! My phone doesn't have all of the emojis, so sorry about that. I'll add them in if I have them.

🎥 Do you have any favorite scenes from your hyperfixation?

Since my current hyperfixation is Digital Devil Saga and Quantum Devil Saga, I'll do an answer for both!

DDS: One of my favorite scenes that comes to mind from the first game has to be Heat interrogating Harley about Sera. Specifically, you can hear the build up in his voice. The desperation, the frustration, and just sheer emotion welling up as it practically explodes as his irises flash red. It's amazingly well delivered, and his voice actor did an amazing job! Haven't heard this scene in Japanese yet, though. I really want to! This, and the entire balcony scene at the end of the Amusement Park dungeon. You know what, I loved that entire dungeon tbh. Also, almost all of the scenes in dds2 were great, and I can't pick just one!

QDS: Part of me wants to say "Every part where Serph describes Heat", but I honestly feel like it'd be a bit cliche(even though those parts are GREAT!).

Although, I'd have to narrow it down to the parts where you can really see Gale's personality and mental state shining through his programming and conditioning, and almost any time Cielo and Sera are together. Those two are so adorable! So many books and shows feel the need that if a boy and a girl are close that they need to be romantically involved! It's absolutely refreshing to see those two being as close as a pair of siblings, and their relationship honestly reflects that. Also Cielo's line of "Your smile is better than any medicine!"(or something along those lines) just kills me from cuteness every time!

💕 Tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

Out of both pieces of media, I honestly can't pick just one character. I might end up picking two, honestly. XD

DDS: Heat is definitely a high candidate for "favorite character". No, this isn't because of "hurhur big hot beefy man me likey!" Legitimately, I find his character incredibly interesting and compelling. He goes from this angry and aggressive man who probably caused at least 1 character to have anxiety problems, to someone who quite honestly cares a lot about those under his care. During the return to the Maribel's base, he is the ONLY PERSON to voice concern about the fact that the only person with a High Atma who could protect Sera was Cielo. He was worried about the kids back at their base, and after you fight Bat, HE is the only one who immediately makes a b-line straight back to base. I'm not even going to get into the whole "Destiny Castle" deal, and everything that happens in dds2, because we'd be here all day otherwise.

Second favorite character in DDS would probably be Cielo. He starts out as the happy-go-lucky comic relief, but from the start, even before his emotions fully awaken, he shows signs of worrying and caring about everyone. He voices concerns when Heat suggests going to the Vanguards' base, and he's even still very close to Gale after the guy went berserk and tried to eat him! Let's not forget how he and Sera still have a brother/sister relationship in the games as well! 

Although, I feel like his character fully blossoms during the second game, where one of the minor villains not only causes him to actually snap, but he still finds it in him to smile, laugh, and joke, despite his world almost literally crumbling around him.(Also, not trying to spoil this for anyone else, but the first time I watched through dds2, and I made it to the part where Cielo dances and jokes about showing God his "Latin Rhythms", the context of what had happened just prior, and what was going to happen… Seeing him do that fucking broke me. I was actually curled up on my bed under fuzzy blankets, my box of tissues next to me, crying. Bless you, funky little Cielo.)

QDS: GALE. 100%, one of my favorite characters by far in the books(besides still Heat and Cielo), would be Gale. Why, you might ask?

Gale in the books is shown to be exceptionally intelligent, but has a hard time comprehending his own emotions and expressing them. He tries to bury his own inner turmoils and anxieties under his own work, although he still cares a lot about the well being of his teammates, especially Serph, and that's beyond his programming as a Bishop. He is also shown to be very creative with his planning, and is able to relatively accurately judge how people may react to certain situations, despite not understanding himself. Also, he has some slight nervous fidgets(tapping his fingers on desks, rubbing his temples, etc), and he is shown to, despite having Sera's calming presence and the effects of her blood(long story) nearby, he does visibly have a lot of anxiety at having his whole world and environment changed, as well as his careful routine, and has a tendency to hyperfocus on things, and he spirals into a loop of repeating thoughts when Serph ends up causing Gale to question if his loyalty lies with Serph or with the Tribe.

Gale. Is. AUTISTIC.

I, myself, am Autistic. I have ADD, and a severe anxiety disorder on top of this. QDS is probably one of the best written autistic/neuroatypical characters I have ever come across, and he's not played off as "comic relief", "childish", or even bordline sociopathic! He CARES! He cares A LOT! He even ends up in a healthy and stable relationship in the end! Also, he's the team's designated driver, holder of the braincells, and the team mom!

(Also, I like all of the characters in the books one way or another. They're all wonderfully written, and I enjoy them all a lot!! 8D)

🍀 Do you have any kins or comfort characters from your hyperfixation?

Hm… I'm not entirely sure how to respond to this. I'm guessing this means whichever characters give me the most happy feelies?

DDS: Almost all of the Embryon squad+Roland. Characters that give me the most happy feelies would probably actually be Cielo, Sera, Heat, Gale...I'm probably gonna end up listing all of them. XD Also, O'Brien. Part Irish people unite!!!!

QDS: Gale for obvious reasons(I need to post/reblog my drawing of him later), Sera for being the physical embodiment of "babey", Cielo for being something similar, any time Serph and Heat are together and Heat's not being angry, and Argilla around Jinana.

Noticing that this is more situational, but this is the best way I can describe this.

This was really fun to to do! Everyone is free to ask me whatever they want! 8D

[swimmer963]

Growth mindset or whatever

So there’s a trait I seem to have, best encapsulated by an anecdote: 

I currently sing in a choir with a bunch of my friends. I do this even though I am by no stretch of the imagination a particularly talented singer. Not the point. I love singing, it’s good for my mood and wellbeing, it gives me an endorphin high and makes me feel warm fuzzies for the people I’m singing with. 

Recently, there was an invite for a small-group extra rehearsal, where there was some expectation that you might be the only one on your part. I eagerly volunteered myself even though I *know* from past experience that the last time I did this (I was in a church choir and had to hold a part alone during one sunday service due to an unexpected failure of all the other sopranos to show up), it did not go well and I was basically told to leave the choir by the new director. Singing is great and I wasn’t about to turn down an extra opportunity to sing. 

I also volunteered myself to sing alto, even though I *know* I have a harder time getting my notes if they’re not the highest note in a chord - how am I ever going to improve at this if I don’t practice when I have the chance? 

I ended up having one friend join me on alto, and we showed up early to practice just our part together, and were starting to get it mostly-down while it was just us. Then the rest of the group showed up, and we tried to do a sing-through, and I very quickly had my face shoved in the fact that my sense of relative pitch is *shit* and I was approximately guessing my notes. We went off to do sectionals and practice just with the soprano singer, and I *still* couldn’t get it – my brain was refusing to give me any feedback except ‘???’ about whether I was singing the right note. 

I was feeling stuck, frustrated and self-conscious and humiliated, not knowing how to make progress...and then my friend suggested I sing with my pitch-detection app open (which I’d done while practicing stuff alone but hadn’t pulled out in a group rehearsal before). And suddenly I sang it through 80% correct on the first go, because I had all the *other* skills involved (reading music, quickly self-correcting to match the right note), I just needed a feedback loop to replace “person next to me confidently singing the right note.” No one can stop me from using a pitch app all the time! Maybe it’s cheating but cheating is just strategy! 

It was an exhilarating experience and I am 100% going back next time. 

---

Growth mindset is a common phrase in my social circles. I also hear people talk a lot about perfectionism and social anxiety, and the damage done to children when they are praised for inherent traits like intelligence, incorporate "good at X” into their self-image, and end up demoralized and too afraid of failure to try hard things. 

I won’t claim to have none of this problem, but it’s specific to a couple of areas, and I think it’s more of the form “negative updates would hurt a lot” than “I’m afraid to try hard things.” My response to fears like “what if I’m just not smart enough to X?” is a combination of “[shrug] I know I don’t have the raw talent to be a Nobel-prize-winning mathematician, tell me something new” and “well, no one thought I had enough innate musical talent at 11 to learn how to sing, and I sure showed them.” 

Maybe part of this is that for just about everything I’ve done, it’s not important to be the “best”, just to show up and do it at all. I was a nurse, and I didn’t need to be the *best* nurse in order for hospitals and travel agencies to fight over employing me. I’ve done ops work, despite all the skills I’m missing and all the weaknesses I’m trying to compensate for, like sucking at data-entry-type attention to detail. Sometimes I fucked up in embarrassing ways, but I was still an extra person being helpful, in a place where that was desperately needed, and that was enough to get *so much* social validation and reward. 

I do have, I think, a pretty good sense of whether my strengths and weaknesses lie on “innate” traits – where I can improve with relatively little effort. Wrapping my head around abstract systems is easy for me, relative to your average human (if not relative to my current social group). Learning fine motor tasks is not. Just means I needed to proactively hunt down every single opportunity to practice putting in IVs. I eventually did become pretty good, or at least had a reputation for it – maybe just because “jumping on any chance to practice” becomes a *habit* and I was the first to raise my hand if someone needed an IV on a “hard stick”. I was also goddamned stubborn, and would take ages to set up and carefully hunt for that one good vein, and try the max number of allowed sticks even if I didn’t expect to get it [EDIT: if the patient was okay with it, the max number is usually 2 and even very good nurses often can’t get an IV in 2 tries, and I think 80% of my IV prowess came from measures like heat packs and careful positioning that took longer to set up but made it nicer for the patient. Also, I ended up willing to try even when I didn’t expect to get it because like 25-50% of the time I *would* get it.]

(The more relevant question I ask myself for “can I realistically be excellent at X” is whether I will practice it obsessively enough. I could definitely learn programming, I just don’t enjoy it enough to end up getting good – not the way I enjoy writing, where it’s more “good luck stopping me”.) 

There are definitely areas where, looking at the balance of my innate talent, I would decide not to compete – not to show up at all. I’m calibrated enough to know where I’m not wanted, and where getting it perfectly is high-stakes enough that I shouldn’t risk it. I’ve sometimes “decided not to compete” in cases I don’t endorse on reflection, like having intellectual opinions and models of the world – my friends are smarter than me! They have *better* opinions and models!

I also pay attention at all to the social dynamics around this – the places where eagerly volunteering yourself will be taken as a claim that you “think you’re so good”, and you’ll get social punishment if you turn out to be mediocre. (I think there’s a way of navigating this where you make it clear that you *know* you suck, and are sort of earnest and puppydog about it, so no one reads it as you making a status claim.) 

If it was something I wanted badly enough, I suspect I would poke my nose in anyway. I have. I doubt the actually-good singers in the choir I joined at age 14 were very pleased by my showing up and singing the wrong notes next to them. 

Still, they let me get away with it. There are a *lot* of areas where the world has let me get away with trying new things and sucking at them; the only thing actually stopping me is embarrassment and self-consciousness, and man do I feel those sometimes, but I don’t endorse letting it get in my way. I can *act* shameless, even if I don’t always feel that way on the inside. 

(I’m aware that I may just be *lucky* to have had this experience, to have repeatedly found myself in groups that didn’t mock and shun me for having the audacity to make a claim that I could do X. Lucky that I have good enough social perception to play it right, and not look like I think I’m better than them. Lucky that I *do* have enough innate ability in enough areas that my practice usually pays off. Lucky that I’ve landed on things that were *fun* to practice obsessively. Idk.) 

This got really long and I’m not sure what my point is. Maybe just that this feels really core to who I am, and to the extent that I am good at some things as an adult, it’s because I’ve done this over and over and over again. And I wish everyone could feel that way deep down? I wish the world was such that no one was ever punished for loving something they weren’t talented at. 

(Also, if you see me doing a thing badly in public: trust me, I know I suck. I’m doing it anyway.) 

[silly-jellyghoty]

As some of you following this mess of a blog may have noticed, I'm getting myself a puppy. Actualy, it's more of a late birthday present from my parents, but the point stays the same - soon, there's going to be a small furry creature by my side and since it will be my responsibility to raise and care about it, instead of surprising me with an actual fluff ball out of the blue, mom and dad let me chose the pup on my own.

Naturally, at some point it became a topic between my coleagues and me during work break yesterday, which is a reason why I am writing this long post right now (sorry but not sorry). I want to talk about this, because some of things about dog raising said people mentioned made me stare at them in disbelief while other made me hopelessly sad and angry. Me. A normal person. Someone who never studied dog psychology or kynology or training methods in any serious way other than reading a few books and stuff on net out of curiosity. I probably can't even imagine what an expert would think about all that nasty stuff I heard from them!

So let me tell you one thing - common people (the ones I talked to at least), even those who currently own a dog or owned one in past, have prety much ZERO IDEA and also ZERO WILL TO LEARN about how to chose the right dog and how to rise it properly! Their whole thinking process when it comes to dogs can be sumarised into - wild puppy appears. Puppy uses cute eyes. It's supereffective. Puppy is now theirs. They put it on a leash or chain. They feed it once a day and get angry when it barks and destroys things. The end.

Like... excuse me?!

In this essay I will...

But seriously. If you think about getting yourself a dog but have no idea how to go around it or you know of someone in such situation who needs a bit of an advice, in this post I will give you all a few tips about chosing process I learned both from getting our previous family dogs and by googling around for hours (not kidding, I've been excessively searching for informations ever since that birthday gift puppy talk I had with my parents).

I hope that this post may help you with chosing just the right dog for you. Or at least it may give you some ideas about which questions to ask yourself and what to look for and think about before you bring a new puppy to your home.

And no, I don't mean questions such as "how big of a dog do I want" or "what and how much does it eat" or "do I have time to take it for a walk everyday" or "should I get a female or male, neutered or not" etc. I believe that you already asked yourself those and you know your answers or have at least some vague idea about what your future dog should or shouldn't be like.

What you probably DIDN'T think to ask yourself or your family members (those guys I talked to before definitely didn't from what I understood) can be put into following categories:

- possible genetic defects and predispositions to hereditary deseases associated with specific dog breeds

- common or seasonal illnesses and health risks associated with dogs body type

- comfortable temperature range for the dog

- intelligence, trainability, temperament etc

- hair and skin care, shedding, grooming difficulty

- background and personal history of specific dog

So let's start with the least funny topic of those and that is INBORN DEFECTS AND HEREDITARY DESEASES

To understand why they are such an issue, especialy in relatively young or modern, recently fixed breeds which origins can be tracked down to just a small number of dogs, you have to realize that the natural form of a dog is a wolf. Size may differ and so can fur lenght, quality and colour, but the shape stays more or less the same - long slim legs with well defined fingers, long wrinkless nose, long slim neck, relatively small standing ears, solid muscular body fully covered in fur. Examples of dog breeds with similar traits include but are not limited to german or belgian shepperds, russian laika and all basic schpitz types of dogs starting with tiny pomeranian and ending with eskimo dog. The less of those traits you find in a dog the more prone to hereditary deseases the said dog breed is for one simple reason - selective breeding.

Older breeds have somewhat of an advantage. They developed over longer time from possibly hundreds maybe thousands of original dogs with different atributes. Mountain breeds turned to be thick coated because short haired dogs simply died during winter. People in areas with a lot of rodents and weasles preffered dogs of smaller sizes to hunt them down. Whether they were terrier, pinch or dachshund shaped, people didn't care as long as rats were gone.

As such, old breeds draw from richer starting genetic pool with less strict breeding oversight in early breed forming stage (this may have changed later and turn towards inbreeding tendencies but it's not a rule) which makes expression of hereditary deseases less likely (this still doesn't mean they have zero, mind you). For the same reason, dog mixes comming from different backgrounds such as half breeds or multiple breeds bastards are, generally speaking, healthier than pure breeds. More genes to draw from means lesser chance of two faulty alellas of same gene meeting in the same animal and expressing itself as a physical flaw or degeneration.

Compared to that, as an example, after a serie of genetic tests on modern pug population in UK, whole breed was tracked back to only aproximately 50 original ancestors. Basicaly, this means that if you compare two dogs whose closest common relative was their grangrangranmother 5 generations ago, chances are that, geneticaly speaking, they are still an equivalent to first cousins because the whole population is just so much inbred.

By this I don't mean to say that you shouldn't get a pug puppy and that pugs are the root of all evil just because of their past of inbreeding. What I'm saying is that before you bring your new pug home, you should do some research about breed's hereditary health issues and predispositions for such and ask yourself - are you prepared for an option that at some point your beloved pet may need an expensive eye surgery? Are you sure you have enough money to pay vet for threating dogs breathing difficulties, allergies and infections connected to its deformed snout (because let's speak openly, dog breeding, especialy when it comes to decorative and companion breeds, is all about active propagations of deformations for the sake of aesthetics, health issues be damned), possibly for a bigger part of their life? Are you prepared to take care of them in case they become partialy paralized due to hip joints deformation in older age?

If your answers are yes, then sure, get yourself a pug. Or bullterrier. Or cavalier king charles spaniel or any similarly inbred dog. If not, then chose a different breed with less potential for inborn defects. Keep in mind that just because the dog meets its breeds standards it doesn't mean those standards are 100% healthy to begin with. Even if the dog is fine right now, it doesn't have to stay that way forever. Use google. Do the math. And take your time chosing.

Next set of questions you should ask and find answers to is about health too, but this time they have less to do with genetics and more to do with BODY TYPE, SIZE AND SHAPE.

A quick overview:

Gigantic breeds tend to have problems with joints and bones, they also have shorter lifespans (french mastif, great dane and irish wolfhund live for only about 7 years. For a comparission, the oldest documented dog is lhasa apso. It lived fir 29 years).

Wrinkled breeds and breeds with excesive skin on head and around mouth or neck have higher risk of getting exema, yeast infection or mites in their skin folds. Combine it with long fur and you can count on antibiotics and/or antiseptic shampoo or powder prety much every rainy season. To add to this, shar-pei are also prone to skin overgrowth where folds may reach such a size that they obscure dogs sight and have to be removed by basicaly dog face lifting surgery. Accidental lip bites and mouth infections are also a thing when it comes to breeds with a lot of skin. Oh, and if such infection lasts for a long time or repeats often there's a high chance of dogs teeth getting infected and falling out as a result. So yeah.

Dogs with long or floppy ears can have a huge problems too. If combined with long fur of spaniel breeds for example, be prepared for seasonal ear infections and exema due to high temperature and humidity which has nowhere to go because of all that hair (we had american cockerspaniel and when she turned 8 she became fully deaf because of this despite my family treating her ears with cleaning drops and antibiotic solutions daily). And don't even get me started about grass seeds stuck in auditory canal. We had to see veterinarian to take those out at least once a week every summer. Also, there will be pieces of food stuck to hair and prepare for puddles of water around the bowl every time they drink too. Fun stuff.

Combine long ears with short legs of basset hounds for example and you get a lot of scratched and accidentaly pierced earlobes by their own claws when they run around and trip over them. It happens more often than you think.

Also about grass seeds and those hard thistle hooks, stabbed between fingers or paw pads, it's prety much impossible to spot them by eye on long haired breeds and you have to search for them by masaging between fingers and pads with your fingers daily during grass and thistle season. If you see a dog biting and licking it's paw, it's either stuck rock, long fur tangled into hard dirty fur ball that needs to be cut off from between its fingers or grass seed.

The list continues. Consider yourself warned.

Another set of questions you should ask is about TEMPERATURE RANGE in your area and is basicaly just about using your common sense.

No matter how charming you find them, for the sake of the dog's well being, please, don't get yourself an alaskan malamute if you live in Florida. And don't expect hungarian vizsla to survive winter in Rocky mountains sleeping outside in dog house either. Use that brain of yours a bit, I'm begging you! (One of my coworkers doesn't understand that dalmatian is NOT a dog suited for living outside whole year around, especialy in those -23°C night drops we get in february. Like excuse me? Poor creature doesn't have the undercoat for that kind of weather!)

INTELLIGENCE AND TEMPERAMENT

This part is easy. Ask yourself what kind of dog you want to own. Flegmatic feet warmer? The one you can take for a jog with you every morning? Agile fast learner for active fun such as freesbee or dog dancing? Childs nanny with a lot of patience around toddlers? A house guardian?

Some breeds are good for more than one thing, some are bred with specific personality in mind. For example - you can't turn border collie into your slow granma's lap warmer she can brush every day for hours, there's shih tzu for that, among other. But what you CAN do with a collie is to have it trained to pick said grandma's fallen walking stick, to bring her ringing phone or to bark if she forgets to turn off gas in kitchen. Remember - there's many many breeds with many different personalities and talents to chose from. Take your time picking.

Also, the saying that dog copies its owner is true. Even one of the calmest breeds - labrador retriever - can turn into a vicious biting beast if raised in disfunctional household. And with a patience and kind treatment, czechoslovakian wolfdogs can be as sweet as sugar.

However, one can't go against dogs predominant behavioral patterns, only along them. Jack russell terriers will be fast and easily excited whether you like it or not. Just because they are trained it doesn't mean they also magicaly lose their natural temperament. Remember that if you chose to get yourself a rat hunter you get yourself a rat speed, agility and seemingly endless energy. And since having a bored dog means having a destructive dog, imagine multiplying that destructive potencial with dogs activity and intelligence level. You don't like where this is going? Your dog, your problem. Chose the breed wisely.

If you still don't have any idea where to start, there's a cheat sheet in form of Stanley Coren's Dog intelligence chart. Naturally, higher on scale - easier to train. Check it out, guys. It may give you some interesting breed choices to consider.

Another category of questions you should answer to yourself before getting a dog is HAIR AND GROOMING related.

Dogs shed. Some all the time, some only once or twice per year. Some hair, despite being short and supposedly easy to care for while on dog in question, is a bitch to get out of clothes and carpets. Meanwhile other hair is so light and silky it floats around if you only as much as think about it, but if let untreatef there's a small dog worth of it everywhere all the time.

There are also exotic fur type options such as komondor or puli dog with natural dreadlocks or hairless xolo from Mexico.

Depending on your choice be prepared to spend anything from one week of seasonal blowout for akita inu or malamut to daily brush of lhasa apso. Either you make the time for grooming it yourself or you pay for it in dog saloon but one way or another, the hair is there and something has to be done about it. Again - your dog, your choice. Just be sure you know what you are getting into. Use that damned google or ask other dog owners about their grooming routine.

Another thing to keep in mind when it comes to fur is whether or not you can get your dog wet. Some breeds with thick fur may take too long to dry on their own which may result in pneumonia in cold weather or yeast infection, mites and exemas in hot temperatures. Don't bath those kinds of dogs unless it's realy necessary and be prepared to invest into dog rain coat and right grooming tools. Or, have them buzzed regularly.

But then again, WHY in the hell would you get yourself a long haired breed if you cut its beautiful mane to 5mm nonsense every month?! I've seen this done to ALL yorkshire and west white terriers in my town without exception. Like... what the hell? If you guys want a small terrier but you are too lazy to brush that long fur regularly then just get yourself border or jack russel terriers to begin with! I mean, the whole point of having a yorkie or westie is the trademark long fur goddamnit!

Oh and about cool fur (I almost forgot to mention this) there's rhodesian ridgeback whose back hair grows the other way! Check it out!

The last of important things you should consider before bringing a new dog home is its BACKGROUND AND PERSONAL HISTORY of the dog

This is especialy important if you are getting an adult dog or a dog from shelter.

Just as humans have their habits and past traumas, dogs have their own too. Aside from obvious problems connected to initial changes of dogs environment and/or lifestyle after transfer, dogs with the past of abuse may pull you into a whole lot of difficult situations.

They may be unusualy agresive or shy or scaredy or whatever compared to other dogs of the same breed (or multiple breeds if they are mixed) or they may act perfectly normal until triggered by something specific and behave in unexpected way when distressed.

We had such a problem with our retriever x boxer x german shepperd mix when she first came to us. She was all nice and friendly untill anyone, be it a family member or stranger, picked up a stick or rod. She had an abusive first owner who used to beat her using those, we think, and so sticks and other long slim items held in one hand turned into her stress trigger. My family was lucky that her first reaction was to flee and hide and as she grew to trust us the issue faded accordingly till it fully disappeared, but different dogs may act differently. Keep that in mind if you get yourself a rescuee.

Dogs which struggled with hunger in past tend to turn into glutons and may develop obesity and associated deseases if you don't keep their food intake in check. Those which came from households of alcoholics may react agresively to smell of alcoholic drinks. If the dog was tortured by nasty brats, it may attack children on sight. Et cetera et cetera.

So if you decided to get yourself a "second hand" pet, find out as much about that dogs past as possible. Hope for the best but be prepared for the worst advice has never been more true than when it comes to dogs comming from shelters.

Thank you for comming to my TED talk and feel free to add your own experiences and opinions

[killian-whump]

I mean here's my reasons for former CS fans though. Interacting with people that made the fandoms life a living hell, who wouldn't side eye something like that? And people that outright trashed your fav for 5 seasons b4 Wish Hook and even participated and was one of the founding members of trying to erase Hook with StopOnceUponaHook. If you were here for that you know what I'm talking about. Other things include, Emma Booth rape apologist, Making Hope the magic baby of SQ erasing Killian...

Okay. I have a couple problems here.

For starters, of course I know exactly who and what you’re talking about, even though (despite being on Anon) you’re pussy-footing around the subject without naming names. So let me tell you in no uncertain terms where I stand on the topic of @freifraufischer. I can’t claim to have seen everything she’s ever said anywhere, but I’d seen plenty of her posts here and on Twitter before I ever interacted with her. My opinion of her then was that she was an intelligent and well-spoken woman with strong opinions that she states openly without reservation. Whether I agreed with those opinions or not was immaterial - I respect people who express themselves openly and intelligently, even when they hate something I myself happen to love.

When I eventually DID interact with her, I did so with respect and civility, and she did the same. We’ve since chatted and interacted many more times, and she has ALWAYS been nice to me and perfectly respectful of my (ridiculously massive and completely obvious) obsession with Hook. And my opinion of her is still the same as it was before, except that I also consider her a friend now. Frankly, I don’t give a shit if she stormed the writers’ offices with “KILL HOOK” placards and burned effigies of Killian Jones on their lawn. She’s been nice to ME, personally, which is more than I can say for the dozen or so CSers who have blocked me for reasons known only to them (since I’ve either never interacted with them or thought we were on friendly terms) or the CSers who have thrown hate in my Ask box because I dared to criticize S6 Emma’s writing. Fuck that shit. Give me 20 more “Unnameable Villains of the Fandom” over that kind of cowardly, “internet mean girls” shit ANY day.

Furthermore, I don’t care if I’ve got Beelzebub himself on my speed-dial, why would that have ANY bearing on my ability to appreciate two specific fictional characters smashing their faces together and doing the horizontal tango? I mean, the only way you could even realistically think it could make a difference is if you’re so insecure in your own interests and preferences that you find yourself easily swayed by others’ opinions. And if that’s the case, my friend, you should really work on fighting that tendency. ANY friend who tries to strong-arm you into only liking what they like or into no longer liking the things you love is not a good friend to have. And adjusting your own interests to fit the needs of others is an absolutely terrible way to live your life.

As for Emma Booth... What the ever-loving shit does one’s opinion of the woman who played Mother Gothel have to do with shipping CS? She has nothing to do with CS. Neither Hook nor Swan ever even encountered her character at all, let alone broke the fourth wall and introduced themselves to the actress who played her. What a truly bizarre thing to believe is a valid reason to declare someone a “former CSer” over. I honestly don’t get that one at all. Sorry.

And... I’d be willing to go out on a limb here and bet my left boob (it’s the bigger one, so you know I'm not doing so lightly) that anyone who has fun imagining Hope is the magically conceived baby of Swan Queen is probably NOT a CSer in the first place, former or otherwise. In fact, and this might blow your mind here, I’d have to guess that they probably ship SQ. Now, mind you, folks can absolutely ship both SQ and CS (sorry if that blows your mind), but if they’re going so far as to “erase Killian” from the scenario entirely and are having fun needling oversensitive CSers with their relatively harmless headcanons, they probably would take more umbrage with the fact that you’re calling them CSers at all than that you’re calling them “former” ones.

So in closing... Nope. Rejected. BZZT. None of these are valid reasons to ever try to tell someone that they can no longer ship whatever the hell they want to ship however the hell they wanna ship it. BZZZZZZZZZT. BZZT. Sorry. I just... I really like playing with the buzzer. BZZZZT.

[lighbiggdiverc1979-blog]

It wont change their minds (nothing will) but it will make them back off. This has resulted in a lot less blatant sexism in my general vicinity. I understand it sucks and I wish it didn have to be this way. And he did not believe that because President Putin had told him they did not. President Putin had told him that the North Koreans don't actually have those missiles," McCabe said his colleague told him. Intelligence officials at the briefing tried to tell the president otherwise.. It okay to take time to process your feelings. There nothing wrong with that. But don always feel the need to minimize your feelings in the 과천출장샵 moment because your feelings can be valid.. Breath of the wild, both twilight princess and windwaker got remastered on it. Plays skyward sword through backwards comparability. All the classic ones.. To do lists are stressful. They are endless, relentless, a disorganized jumble of Things That Must Get Done, and I end up feeling massive internal resistance that drives me straight into one of the many distractions available. Tracking is like that, too. Now it only serves as a shock factor. Well, I pretty sure she will retire after this so they reached the same outcome of Momo being independent, just less dark. It seems Mei is still pretty much the traitor, but why would she asks Tendou about how will the drug release be like? Also why did she announce they were going to Kyuten Science? She not dumb. Wew, I surprised they said it even if K pop fans know it. Charts now, from Grande to Halsey, are not they make deeply personal, even raw, music. But while Blackpink may well find success catering to an audience craving its kind of TRL era pop spectacle Interscope's Erlich calls the group "the modern Spice Girls" lately the band has been less concerned with appearing perfect, both onstage and off. The color payoff is also pretty high on par with my Laura Mercier single shadows actually. But then again makeup artist jungsaemmool can do no wrong imo. I basically buy everything she makes and all her products are middling at least and amazing HG at best.. Nowadays at least Vinewrath and Tequatl are beaten all the time by basically any map that at least finds a few people to tag, and I not sure about Triple Trouble as I rarely visit that map. Some bosses (Jormag, Shatterer, Shadow Behemoth) were updated to at least sort of go in that direction and many meta events or World Boss types since HoT are now built like that, with the result that after a period of getting used to it the average map succeeds if at least some care. Without the effort to ease in and entice players via exclusive rewards and a well pitched difficulty curve relative to what was before, every meta would have to 과천출장샵 amount to being a DPS golem.. Oh no im not new, im commander lv70, my problem is my laziness. I gotten 95% of all event ships since release and played since it came on ios. I never made much effort with story so now i shot myself. Game play changes drastically once you hit Torment levels. Each torment you feel self development and understanding of your character. Im at T10 and took a long ass time from T9. I've tried using more high end makeup to see if it made a difference, even simple foundation looks weird on me, despite having little to no texture issues thanks to my AB routine. The only thing that suits me well enough to not feel uncomfortable is a little eyebrow fill, a thin line of brown liquid liner along the upper lash line, and mascara. Blush if I'm feeling fancy, but more often than not, no.