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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 25 days ago

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The closest thing to an OC I have for the Nimona Movie is Ambrosius's mom, and while she started out as just an invention to develop Ambrosius's character I really like coming up with lore for her lol. So if you are interested please enjoy my mama Goldenloin lore (and feel free to use my take on this character if you need a side-character in a fic or smth lol)

CW for mentions of fertility issues, miscarriage, childhood emotional neglect,

She is a descendant of Gloreth and she has a twin brother, due to her parents using fertility treatments (which increases chances of multiples)

Her name is Seraphi, I wanted to stick with the "heaven-inspired" theme Ambrosius set lol

Her brother is sterile, so continuing Gloreth's legacy fell squarely to her. She had no other cousins/siblings on that side, because the Goldenloin line suffers from fertility issues

She struggled with fertility as well, and was terrified that she would fail in her responsibility of carrying on Gloreth's legacy. She suffered many miscarriages and fertility treatments before her rainbow baby, Ambrosius, was born

She had extremely high expectations for Ambrosius, largely because of how difficult it was to bring him into the world, the fact that he was an only child, and the pressure she'd been taught to believe was normal for a descendant of Gloreth

Despite her often unreasonable expectations, she loved her son very much and was extremely grateful to have been able to have him. She struggled to show her love, though, because growing up her own family was extremely uptight and emotionally reserved, rarely showing her or her brother affection of any kind and acting more as mentors than as caregivers

She considered herself to be a very warm and woke parent because she actually occasionally spent time with her child and didn't just have the staff do it, like how she was raised. She even sometimes said things like "I love you" to him!!!! (she was still too emotionally constipated to be able to hug her own baby for more than 5 seconds but she tried lol)

She served as a knight when she was young around the same time as the Director, and they were very close friends. Because of this she trusted the Director to look out for her child when he was training at the Institute.

She still maintained her belief in the Institute even after the whole Nimona-Wall-Canon incident, and did not fully believe in Ballister's innocence, until she found out the Director, her closest friend, STABBED (or thought she did) and SHOT her only child. Finding out this information was the catalyst that led to her finally changing her fundamental beliefs. Even then she continued to idolize Gloreth, but was willing to accept that it was time for things to change even if those beliefs were still dear to her

When they were kids, she actually accepted Ballister as Ambrosius's friend, although she didn't agree with the Queen's decision to let him be a knight. But, she was capable of understanding that the Queen's choice wasn't this 10-year-old's fault, so she was still nice to him

Once it became clear they were dating she had more of an issue with it, mostly because That's Gay and while she fancied herself a #ally, she also knew that her son was expected to sire heirs, and even if they used a surrogate or something, she feared the non-traditional family structure would be a bad look

Ambrosius frequently went low-contact with his parents to protect his mental health, and cut them off completely after they still refused to believe Ballister's innocence after the Wall incident. Once Seraphi learned what the Director had done, she and his dad sent a letter to Ambrosius and Ballister apologizing and begging to be a part of their lives. With Ballister's permission, they resumed low-contact, and eventually his parents had worked on themselves and changed enough to be a more consistent part of their lives

She and Nimona Do Not like each other. They don't antagonize each other, but they do avoid each other. Nimona triggers Seraphi's deeply ingrained fear of monsters that had been hammered into her her whole life, even though she can now control it, and she reminds Nimona a lot of Gloreth AFTER the townspeople destroyed her spirit.

I also like to think that Nimona checked in on Gloreth's descendants through the centuries. She was her best friend, and from the credits it seems like Nimona still loved Gloreth even after what happened. I like to think she peeked in on them and watched them grow up, including Seraphi, and watching them become instilled with hatred and fear and repression broke her heart every time

If Ballister and Ambrosius ever had/adopted kids she would be THE trust fund grandma. They leave baby in her care for 30 minutes and she hands back the most spoiled child they've ever seen. They have to set boundaries when their kiddo comes home like "excuse me dads why don't WE have a swimming pool with a Jacuzzi and a water slide? Are we poor?"

#Seraphi Goldenloin #nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #ballister boldheart #nimona 2023 #okay Spoiler alert in the tags for the American Ghosts but like #you know how Thor would tell Hetty stories when she was little and she thought he was her imaginary friend?#thats how I imagine Nimona and the Gloreth descendants #also like Thor I imagine she would be regailing the children with stories about murder lol

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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year ago

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Hi Alex I hope you're doing alright:) can you do platonic headcanons for Kurt Wagner X genderfluid mutant reader who can bend metal. . ( reader is friendly, smart & introverted ) , I'd appreciate if you include the coming out part

That's it, thank you:)<3

A/N Ahhh platonic headcanons. I always end up writing fics instead of the headcanons but I hope you like this anon! I always love writing for Kurt, that boy has a special place in my heart <3

Trinkets

Tags: Kurt Wagner and Reader, Platonic relationship, Betfriends, XMCU fanfic, Pietro Maximoff, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Jubilation Lee, Mention of Cherik, Introverted reader, Kurt our fav blue boy, Everyone is gay, probably, definitely, growing relationship, headcanons, coming out

A little Headcanon and story of how you and Kurt became best friends.

Kurt was your tour guide when you first arrived

When Kurt heard about your mutation, he becomes very interested to learn about you (because the only other mutant who can bend metal is the Professors husband and he’s arguably scarier)

Definitely fascinated by Kurt's power and physique in general, gushing about his sharp tail and sharp nails

Both you and Kurt were a bit of a stuttering mess with each other's fascination, but eventually laughed it off as you got closer

Once comfortable in the university, you gravitate towards Kurt most of the time, hanging out with him and his group, mostly with Jubilee, Pietro, Jean, and Scott.

The group calls you the ‘Less Scary Magneto’ and has adopted you into the extroverted group, their 2nd introvert.

Joined Pietro on pulling a prank on Logan, ended up failing, Kurt saved you but couldn’t save Pietro

Never joining Pietro on a prank again unless Kurt joins too

Was so happy when your room is across the half from Kurts, and just a couple of rooms from the others

Saturday nights at Jubilee’s room, hanging out and just unwinding from the busy study week

Paints Kurt's nails with any colors he wants (Kurt does the same for you)

Makes the group little metal jewelry, bracelets, and rings

Sometimes leaves little metal trinkets around Kurt's room

If Kurt comes over to you and asks if you intentionally left something in his room, you’ll just give it to Kurt as a gift

Kurt has a jar full of said trinkets

Definitely do study sessions with Kurt and Jean, sometimes the other three would join.

You once mended a metal seat into the ground to keep Pietro in place because he needed to study for finals. The others laughed when obviously didn't work. You gave up since you can't waste metal chairs.

Spends most of the afternoon in the library with Kurt, reading a lot of books and helping Kurt with any English words he might not be familiar with

Has a favorite part of the library where anyone can guarantee you and Kurt could be found there

Could be found with Kurt in the training ground below the school

Secretly really happy the group doesn't see you as your physical body

When the first Pride Month rolled around in the Xaviers Institute, you were very excited to see how many queer students were.

The students threw a party that first week of Pride, filling the school's gym with snacks and colorful balloons, rainbow decorations, and someone was a Dj there too

Kurt and you were surprised that the Professor and Magneto showed up, but regardless very happy to see them together

You escaped the crowded place when Kurt decided to teleport both of you to the school's roof, the party downstairs still loud

Up with the cold breeze of the evening's air, you came out to Kurt as Genderfluid

Patient Kurt Wagner, Always accepting Kurt Wagner, he pulled you into a hug and was very glad you're comfortable enough to come out to him

Spent the rest of the night with your best friend and pointing out stars

#kurt wagner and reader #kurt wagner x gn!reader #kurt wagner x male reader #kurt wagner #xmcu fanfic #xmen kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner famfoc #xmen fanfiction

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bleachification · 1 year ago

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⸻ CHAPTER FIVE; ALL MEN ARE EQUAL

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of depression

chapter list: this is CHAPTER FIVE of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the chapters below (in order) before this one or you will be very lost!!

prologue

one

two

three

four

word count: 3.5k

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

Back in your homeland, at the Imperial Palace, the largest constructed facilities are ones of sport and training. Sharpened swords and polished armour take the place of bookshelves on bedroom walls, and the practice of scripture is seldom found. Higher education, though no less important than warfare, is strictly limited to scriveners, court officials, and the professional erudites of your father’s choosing. In the face of current conflicts, most of your father’s people are far more absorbed in military affairs and bureaucracy than arithmetics, the sciences and the humanities.

Although, when it came to you, it was like a switch went off and all those sentiments were turned upside down.

By a certain age, your tutelage switched from scholarly knowledge to that of etiquette and what he referred to as ‘womanly affairs’. Those usually consisted of things like sewing, music, and art classes. The only one you ever enjoyed was the horseback lessons.

But thankfully, your father’s one track mind meant you were never discovered for—or suspected of—possessing further-education books and studying politics, diplomacy, and military tactics on the days general schooling lessons were cancelled. It is why you find yourself in the royal library, hours before you are due to meet Dazai for dinner.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of marble shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling. Each one is stacked, end-to-end, with leather bound tomes and tea-stained manuscripts. There is a fireplace in the right corner, carved from blackened stone and crackling with warmth. Around it sits a pair of dark-green, thickly-cushioned armchairs, along with a matching sofa that is wide enough to fit at least four people.

You walk further in and are greeted with four arched windows spanning the length and height of the space, each one clear as the summer sea. You squint, momentarily blinded by a sudden passing ray of sunlight. Birds are chirping underneath the morning sky, and branches of a looming willow tree sway in front of the left-most window. You take in the sprawling garden view; a labyrinthine maze of hedges take up the centre, and a large assortment of decorations speckle the grounds. Smaller fountains, rainbow flower beds, and iron-wrought benches are only a few of what you can see.

You look around a bit more, noting the study tables anchored to the floor and the winding staircase that leads to the open-plan second floor. The library is well-kept, as shown by the pots holding blooming flowers along the window sills, but the dust lining the shelves indicates that no one has used the archives in a long time. You wonder why—it is the first and only comforting place that you have found in the cold, lonely palace.

You make your way down the stacks before a section catches your eye.

A Comprehensive Guide on Abilities and a Meta Analysis on their Structural Archetypes;

The Scholar’s Circle’s Codex on Yokohama’s Political Affairs;

North vs. South: A Dynastic Tale of Continental History.

You grab all three and almost lose your balance from the weight of each text. More and more books are added to the pile in your arms until you can no longer see straight ahead.

With a huff, you drop the mountain of pending research onto an oak-stained study table and quickly get to work.

Hours pass, the concept of time long faded as you lose yourself in the world of preternatural powers, warring states, and the cluttered institutions that make up the Kingdom in its most present form.

The striking differences between Yokohama and the Northern Empire are more vast than you had ever imagined. It's a stark contrast—governance, industry, arts, religion and everything else you've come across so far. Not a single commonality to be found.

“How has…? But wouldn’t the roots originate from the dark ages? Let’s see…” you mumble, talking to no one in particular.

“Have you found a specially interesting read?” A particular person asks.

You fall out of your seat in surprise.

“General!” You squeak, reeling from his sudden appearance.

The mild-mannered Fukuzawa gives you a gentle smile and moves to help you up. He hooks two large arms under your own and lifts you back onto your chair. The scene reminds you of a mother cat picking its kitten up by the scruff of its neck.

You drop your head onto the table in embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact until, hopefully, a meteor comes falling onto earth and crushes you to death.

“Good morning, General,” you mutter.

“Hmm.”

You peek up at him with one eye. “What?”

“It is five in the evening,” he replies, bemused.

“What?!” You bolt up, shame long forgotten.

It takes you a second to realize how orange the library is, cast in the hues from the setting sun.

You drag a hand over your face, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

Fukuzawa raises a brow.

“What? You’ve never heard a noble cuss before?”

He taps his chin. “I can’t say I have. You truly are a breath of fresh air, Your Highness.”

You grin. “As are you, General. And please…”

He listens, head tilting in curiosity.

“It is [name]. We are friends, are we not?” Your false sincerity coats your words like a second skin.

The sun dips far below the horizon, robbing the world of its light. You take in the storm clouds in the distance, absentmindedly wondering if the Empire would experience the same downpour later in the night.

Fukuzawa ponders your question for a moment longer before answering. “We are, but I am also your subordinate, so I am afraid I must decline.”

“And if it is an order?”

Fukuzawa’s eyes sparkle. “Then I am under aristocratic obligation to comply.”

In a tone laced with authority and bemusement, you proclaim: “I, acting Monarch of Yokohama, hereby order General Yukichi Fukuzawa to act beyond propriety and address me by given name only. No titles, no fancy designations. Just [name].”

“As long as you are willing to grant me that same honor, [name].”

You grin. “See? Isn’t that so much better, Yukichi?”

The General only laughs and turns to take a seat across from you. The armour he dons makes a clanging noise as he settles himself. Patches of dirt litter the surface of the metal while other areas sport minor indents—likely from the force of a blade's flat or hilt.

“Did that hurt?” You nod towards the largest dip in the steel.

He looks down at his left side, around the area between his upper ribs. “Couldn’t even feel it.”

“Of course not,” you wave, returning your attention back to the pages.

“I see you are interested in…” Fukuzawa leans over the table, peering at the emboldened titles of each tome. “Yokohama politics, history, and culture?”

“The pen is mightier than the sword, as they say,” you muse. “And a bright mind is far mightier than those stumbling blind in the darkness of their own ignorance.”

“I do wish more members of the court shared that sentiment. It would certainly make my migraines less frequent.”

You faintly recall the term from a book you finished earlier. “The… inner court?”

“The very same. A parliamentary round table of aristocrats and representatives, headed by the Four Noble Houses.”

“The Four Noble Houses? You mean…” You cringe, an unpleasant memory resurfacing.

Fukuzawa’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Ah, yes. I recall a certain purple-faced duke drenched in the colours of His Majesty’s most favoured cabernet sauvignon.”

You smile sheepishly. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Formally? Yes.”

You groan and drop your head in your hands.

Fukuzawa lays a palm on your shoulder and gives you a gentle pat.��

“But reasonably? Absolutely not. He deserved ten times worse than what he got.”

“Someone needed to stand up to him,” you point out.

“Sadly, there are not many people who can.”

You sigh at that and go back to your research. The moment you set your eyes back on the book, the pages in front of you begin to blur and mesh into a whirlpool of ink.

“Maybe it is time for a break…” you murmur.

Fukuzawa leans forward and studies your fatigued expression.

“What have you learned so far?”

You snort. “You mean other than our sordid history? The decades of hatred and conflict brewing between our countries?”

“Ah, yes. Besides that fun little facet of our politics.”

You run through the miles of information you had just absorbed, each little bit coming together piece by piece to paint a very clear picture of the modern world—one where mystic abilities, gods of old, and monsters coexist in disharmony.

‘Abilities’ as you have come to know them, are practically non-existent among the lower caste in the Northern Empire. The only ones who wield them are of noble blood, aside from the rare few commoners—unfortunate individuals who would be executed for merely holding power outside of their status. Even then, barely anyone manifests one. In recent years, the only ability-user you know of is Chuuya.

In Yokohama, these powers are respected, admired, and much more plentiful. In your textual observations, it is noted that the military and governing leaders are chosen for their abilities.

“Hm… what is yours?”

You are curious. What sort of fate-bending, death-defying power could this seasoned warrior have?

“Mine?”

“Your ability. You must have one, being the head of such an elite corps.”

“My ability…” he pauses.

You raised a teasing brow. “What? You’re not going to tell me?”

“Just considering the risks of doing so. You have proven yourself to be both smart and deceitful. A deadly combination.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” You place a hand on your chest in mock offence, scoffing in indignation.

Fukuzawa laughs—that familiar smooth rumble that you have come to find placating. “Would I be wise to?”

“Of course not.” You wave a dismissive hand. “But you should tell me anyway because I am curious and stubborn and will likely find out on my own regardless.”

The general’s gaze is filled with a kind of warmth that is unknown to you, only interrupted by a flicker of a melancholy that twists his expression momentarily." It happens so fast you almost mistake it for a trick of the light.

“You remind me so much of her…” He mumbles under his breath so softly you pass it off as a whisper of the wind. “Very well. I will tell you.”

The sun has all but disappeared from the horizon, the shimmering moon slipping in its place. The dark, glittering night falls onto Fukuzawa’s features beautifully, making him seem a little more weathered and a little less mundane as he explains his decidedly non-mundane powers.

“It allows me to control my soldiers’ own abilities. I am able to manipulate their capabilities, help navigate their potential, and expand the boundaries of what they can do. That is my ability,” he explains.

You mull over Fukuzawa’s words, a bit surprised at the nature of it all. The powerfully built military veteran looks at you like he knows what you are thinking—knows that you are confused on why someone with his battle prowess has such a passive skill.

“You forget, Your Highness, that before I am a warrior, I am first and foremost a leader. Without my men, I am nothing, and without me, many of those men would not have survived until now,” he states. He says it like a fact, and perhaps in some ways, it is. It makes more sense the longer you think on it, his ability is almost perfectly suited to his position. You wonder what yours would be if you manifested one. What about Dazai? Would his ability reflect bloodthirst and coldness? Or would it be the opposite of what you know him as?

You make a mental note to come back to that question later, and direct your attention back to the conversation at hand.

“[Name],” you correct.

Fukuzawa blinks. “Sorry?”

“You called me ‘Your Highness’ just now.”

“I apologize. Force of habit,” he drops his head in a slight bow and the moonlight streaming through the open windows reflects off his gray hair, transforming it into a silver mane.

Fukuzawa apologizes to you a lot, like a father fumbling for words in front of his newborn, careful not to be anything but kind. If anything, you find it endearing. As well as a little… disappointing.

“General.”

Fukuzawa’s smile drops at your change in tone. The worry in his eyes is clear. “Is something wrong?”

You give him a small smile, a tad tense. “No. Not really. Though, I would like to ask you something. Would you humour me?”

“Of course. I will answer anything within reason,” he reassures.

You rest your cheek against your palm, curiosity and wariness burning bright.

“Why are you so kind to me? I know how this country views the Empire—views me. I am not blind to the scornful glances nor hidden insults thrown around. I am numb to them. But you… Kunikida… that peculiar doctor as well, you are all much too cordial with a sworn enemy. Is it pity? Some misplaced sense of duty? Or perhaps it is all fake and you are all laughing behind my back as we speak.”

Silence spreads through the empty library, the only noises are the crackling of the fireplace and the gentle swishes of the willow branch behind you. The only thing you hear is your pulse thrumming against your skull.

If Fukuzawa is taken aback by your bluntness, he does not show it. Despite only knowing you for this short period of time, he is probably already used to your brusque manner of speech. He folds his hands in front of him and leans backward, taking some time to come up with a suitable answer. You can practically see the gears turning in that head of his.

A few moments pass before he finally speaks in a serious, yet gentle, voice.

“Do you think yourself undeserving of our respect?”

You shake your head and answer: “Not at all. I am only surprised you would willingly impart it to me.”

“I cannot speak on Sir Kunikida or Dr. Yosano’s behalf—although, I imagine they share the same thoughts—but I am kind to you because it is common sense. I am kind to you because I am honoured to serve under your reign,” Fukuzawa assures. His expression softens. “I am truly sorry about the harassment you have had to endure. I will do my best to keep them in check, but if it happens again, do not be afraid to use your status. You are their ruler. Do not let them forget it.”

A lump forms in your throat and you force yourself to swallow it down. The support eases your heart, but the anxiety does not fully disappear, nor does the cold tingle of resentment in your chest. They probably never will. For now, you will accept his words, but with caution, as you are still very much in enemy territory. You will need to lead with your mind to survive, not your heart.

And Fukuzawa? The gentle general is merely a stepping stone, not a friend.

“I… am grateful. Tha—”

“General Fukuzawa!” In a very familiar fashion, the doors to the library burst open to reveal a man, effectively cutting you off.

Kunikida stands beneath the frame, face alarmingly red and breaths coming out in short, laboured puffs. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Fukuzawa grimacing.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?.” The minister spits out each word with barely contained anger—more accusation than actual question.

“Chief Minister.” Fukuzawa bows and slowly inches himself towards the door, closer and closer to the fuming blonde. “I see you are… upset.”

Kunikida’s eye twitches. “Upset? Upset?!” His voice hits an impressive octave and you briefly wonder if he’s ever considered a career in opera. He certainly has the knack for it.

“I—”

“The outdoor arena is on fire.”

The general clears his throat.

“Right. I did tell them not to try out those new techniques without me around, though His Majesty’s soldiers were never ones to adhere to the rules.”

“A black hole opened up in the ceiling and swallowed three stable boys. They were… fully nude when they fell out an hour later.”

Fukuzawa blinks.

“That’s… new.”

“You have five seconds,” Kunikida says flatly.

“Well. Duty calls. I shall have to put out some fires… er… literally.” Fukuzawa makes his way to the open doors and is about to leave when he adds: “Have a wonderful night, [name].”

“Good luck,” you laugh.

He gives you a small wave before disappearing down the hall.

You turn your attention to Kunikida who is now slightly less red, though still glowing a nice shade of pink.

“Good evening, Chief Minister. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask.

“I am here to bring you to dinner service. Perhaps you have forgotten? You seem to be engrossed in our literary offerings,” he answers plainly.

Kunikida stays standing, but has walked further into the room, hands clasped behind him as he studies the books you chose with furrowed eyebrows.

“I enjoy reading. Is that such a crime?”

“I am only surprised you were able to find this place. After His Majesty banned entry, most just ignore it as they pass by.”

You cock your head to the right. “I was curious about that. Why? It is a beautiful library—a sunlit treasure trove of knowledge. I would imagine most people would be clawing at the doors for just a glance, yet it is as barren and untravelled as the deserts in the West,” you muse.

Your curiosity is only a mild interest until Kunikida’s gaze sharply turns away from yours, blatantly avoiding your poking and prodding. His averted eyes cause what little inquisitiveness you had just felt to balloon into a wave of eager investigation.

“Kunikida.”

He adjusts his glasses and nervously glances at his timepiece. “We are going to be late if—”

“Kunikida.”

He sighs, relenting.

“If nobody uses this place, why is it so well kept? There are no dirt patches or cobwebs, but the dust between pages suggests that no one has opened them for many years. ”

“If I were to make an educated guess…” Kunikida stops for a moment to think. “I would wager that His Majesty misses what it used to be, and is only trying to preserve the last of that magic. Though the memories here are much too vivid and much too painful for him to come back to.”

What it used to be…

A flicker of something… a fleeting feeling… No. A memory. At the very back of your mind—

“But I do not think he will continue to do so.”

It vanishes, and you fall back to reality, grasping at nothing and nowhere.

You shake yourself out of your daze, a bit peeved at the interruption, but curious all the same.

“Do what? Preserve this place? You believe he will let it just… crumble to ruins?”

Kunikida takes a seat and folds his gloved hands together. The lines on his forehead appear as he tenses, preparing his next words with careful precision. He works his jaw, tension releasing and forming with each movement, as if he is warring internally, fighting to either let the words out or keep it in.

You hope he chooses the former. The more information, the better.

His expression settles and a stern look replaces his calm visage. Whatever he has to say must be serious.

You catch yourself tapping the side of your thigh anxiously under the table and clamp your fingers down on your leg… hard. Your father did always say that a royal must be poised and perfect, and he made it extremely clear that such emotions were to be erased and forgotten.

And if they weren’t…

A chill runs down your spine at the memories.

“I am well aware that you are, and pardon my candor, untrustworthy.”

You almost snort. Not the first time you’ve heard that and it certainly won’t be the last.

Kunikida continues. “But I believe it is only right to tell you as His Majesty’s spouse. King Dazai is… he is…” Kunikida pauses as he fumbles for the right word.

A clock ticks. Kunikida settles on a phrase.

“Unwell. A disease of the mind and heart that has stolen his will. He is here only to serve a purpose and that purpose is not to live out the rest of his life. He exists, but for years now he has not been… here. Almost as if one wrong move and the line His Majesty balances upon disappears and takes him with it.”

Time slows. The air thickens. Are you breathing?

“Slowly but surely, he is fading away,” Kunikida pauses and swallows as he tries to work out his next words.

“Some days I believe he is better. Most days I do not allow myself to indulge in such a lie.”

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

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thenightling · 3 months ago

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Debunking a pop culture myth about Parapsychology

Many people mistakenly associate TAPS AKA Ghosthunters or Ghost Adventures and similar shows with parapsychology. They are paranormal investigators, yes, but they are not what many would consider parapsychologists. TV paranormal investigating is usually exaggerated for the audience, dramatized, hammed up, and full of over-reactions that you would not see in a real-world paranormal investigation. You won't find a seasoned, seventy-year-old paranormal researcher wearing a headset and going "Woooooah! What was that?! What was that?!??" because of a few clicks and pops. You won't find a legitimate paranormal researcher ranting that it is definitely a demon like The Church Leady from Saturday Night live. The Warrens are NOT a good example of parapsychologists. They were self-trained "Demonologists" who were known in paranormal research communities as charlatans who knew how to sell a story. The late Hans Holzer is a fine example of a legitimate parapsychologist. I studied Parapsychology back when SCI (The Stratford Career Institute) still offered it as a course. It's not what meany would expect. There were five text books and several modules on subjects like theoretical physics and basic psychology (Note: A parapsychologist is not a licensed psychologist). The study of parapsychology is NOT the belief that every supernatural claim is true. it is the scientific analysis and investigation of claims of the supernatural. And the majority of it is debunkings. You learn about things like Cold Readings and The Rainbow Ruse. The Ideomotor Effect, confirmation bias, and how mental illness or grief can play a big part in accidental false claims of the supernatural. Not all false supernatural cases are the result of a phony psychic with wires and remote controls hidden in her seance room. Sometimes it's the result of a very religious person suffering from schizophrenia or paranoid delusions. Bipolar disorder, histrionic personality disorder (which I think is an antiquated term), and even lucid daydreams and sleep paralysis can lead to accidental false claims of the supernatural. (Most orbs are just dust particles, by the way.) A lot of the paranormal investigations done off-camera are closer to what Harry Houdini did when he debunked fake psychics with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (the believer) at his side, seeing out evidence of the supernatural and debunking the false claims when they could. Earlier today I complained, on Facebook, about the annoying trend of about fifteen years ago when Creepypastas (scary short stories) were passed off as fact in a cruel game to see what "real paranormal" websites would fall for it and who could get the most sites to believe their stories were true. I got a reply of "If they fell for Creepypastas passed off as true than parapsychology is a joke and that proves it's not a real science." That's not really fair. Parapsychology is heavily theoretical when it's not out-right debunking. And tricking someone into thinking you are telling the truth- giving someone the benefit of the doubt, doesn't mean the study shouldn't exist. Attempts to replicate how telekinesis would theoretically work has helped with the creation of devices and prosthetic for the disabled. Imagine if law firms were disbanded because a defense attorney was tricked into thinking their client truly was innocent. And medical doctors have to rely on what their patients tell them much of the time. And yes, medical doctors can be tricked. The TV show house brought this up often, that patients will deliberately or accidentally leave out important facts that are important for their diagnosis. And there are many disorders and syndromes that are heavily reliant on the claims of the patient for diagnosis. The scientific exploration of the unknown should never be dismissed out of hand when all of science is still changing and evolving as we speak. After all, cryptozoology is how the Duckbilled Platypus was discovered.

Legitimate Paranormal research organizations include the ASPR and the SPR.

#Paranormal #Parapsychology

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ignus-moth · 6 months ago

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Ok so a personal summer project is redoing hp world building and Ima share this one thing cus im trans and wanna live out my fantasy.

I must preface: Witches are self taught or taught by a community/family, wizards are taught in institutions like Hogwarts. And, muggles are not completely unaware of the casters (magic users).

Most donations to transgender supportive nonprofits made to give free transitioning go directly to helping trans people and supporting their gardens. This is because they can literally make magic potions.

They make these Gender Potions specially for muggles, though, because their systems are not as used to magic, so they’re more sensitive and it could make them sick. So if a caster used a muggle-specific Gender Potion, nothing would happen. However, they give out Gender Potion recipies to casters who can prove they’re trained enough to not blow someone up while making one.

There are caster clothing shops that are trusted by the Caster Society to be set up in muggle cities. They have magic mirrors that show what you’d look like with stuff like a packer or binder, anything non-surgical. They also offer ~magic~ binders that work like those tents with bigger insides. Yeah it just puts ur tits in a pocket dimension. But if you’re a muggle don’t wear it too long because un-monitered continuous magic exposure like that can be disastrous health-wise. DON’T WEAR BINDERS FOR MORE THAN 8 HOURS!!! BE CAREFUL!!! Oh also they sell packers, idk enough about packers to know what’d be cool beyond them becoming not realistic when taken out.

Pride parade after-parties occur in places where spells are allowed for fireworks with the flag colors and people using spells to do people’s hair. Either a gendery haircut or temporary BRIGHT RAINBOW colors.

Nisse (a temporary name, replacement for house elves, work similarly to Nisse from Hilda but are more tied to the building itself) can and will make someone’s life HELL if they find out they’re queerphobic. Hiding their phone, cutting up their shoe laces, tipping over fragile objects, and making their room smell REALLY BAD. Why? Cus they’re being a dick.

Witch covens are the best place to go if you need shelter, especially if you’re queer and/or a minor. Super accepting and will defend you with their LIVES. And maybe go commit a little bit of arson. Just a little bit. :3

#harry potter rewrite #transgender #queer #lgbtqia #fuck rowling

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foodsies4me · 1 year ago

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Another for later: Magnus and the trainees headcannons (aka I used to hate shadow hunters now I have a whole clan of them)

I have SO MANY Magnus and the trainees headcanons and if I manage to work in even half of these in the second part of AWG then I'll be happy. (Obligatory sorry for the rambling cuz it's going to be LONG😅)

Magnus is the first to find out Max has saved Alec's number under "Dad" on his phone and he's quick to promise him he won't tell Alec, but that he thinks Max should tell him.

Following up on that, Magnus promises to Max that if Alec ever moves in with him, there will also be a bedroom for Max to stay at because he won't take his big brother/dad away from him.

There will naturally also be a bedroom for Madzie

And some handy portal magic to make sure the trainees can also stay/barge in whenever they need some Alec hugs want to drop by.

When the Institute aka Alec makes a formal request to remodel the sleeping area so all the shadowhunters and trainees can have their own bedroom (thank you space manipulation magic), Magnus spends an entire week looking at bedrooms with all of the trainees to give each of them the bedroom of their dreams.

Arjun's bedroom wall has a moving dragon and Arjun refuses to leave his room for a whole two days when he sees that.

Magnus struggles to gain Ariadne and Hideaki's trust the most because of how shy they are. And then he finds out both love to draw/paint. Asking them if they will teach him is what makes them open up to him and it ends in a weekly drawing hour that Magnus enjoys far more than he expected - even if he has no natural talent at all.

On the flip side, Sarah finds out that Magnus knows how to dance and knows a lot of different types of dance and ropes him into teaching her. Colton, Linette, Aloysius, and Doris are quick to join in when they find out as well.

After Magnus changes his hair color for the fourth time Rara asks him if he can do the same with her hair and if he can make it sparkly, which is how Rara ends up with permanently sparkly hair.

This quickly leads to most of the trainees sporting rainbow-colored hair for a number of weeks.

Magnus finds out Barika is trans about three months into dating Alec.

The third time Magnus attends a training session with the trainees, Alec takes them on a parkour trail over the New York skyline and Magnus is reminded that all Nephilim are well and truly insane.

When he finds out that Keith likes to try new foods/snacks etc. Magnus picks up the habit of buying local snacks whenever he goes to some place Keith hasn't been to yet.

Magnus gets into the habit of bringing easy books on magical theory whenever he's hanging out with the Fearsome Foursome because they always want to learn more.

Steph is the first to successfully pull off a prank on Magnus, which earns her bragging rights for a whole week.

Of course, Max has to prank him even harder to regain his title of Menace Supreme the week after that.

When Magnus decides to prank them back it turns into a full-out prankwar that almost rivals the Mumbai Incident.

Max still somehow ends up winning and Magnus ends up ranting to Ragnor, Catarina, and Raphael after a glass too many because HOW DID HE LOSE TO A NINE-YEAR-OLD???

(Alec wins the betting pool because he's the only one to know all of the details of the Mumbai Incident.)

(He doesn't tell Magnus he won however, that would have meant admitting he bet on his little brother.)

(He does reveal to Magnus that Max is strictly forbidden from ever setting foot in the Mumbai Institute ever again, so he doesn't feel too bad for losing.)

I definitely have more, but these are already some headcanons that I adore. Thank you for asking! Rambling about the trainees always brings me joy and I'm delighted other people love them as well.💜

#foodsies rambles #AWG #answered asks #I adore the trainees #even if they're all little menaces

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oracle-financials-training · 2 years ago

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oracle-technical-training · 2 years ago

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drdemonprince · 2 years ago

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Do you have any advice for an autistic & trans therapist to safely establish a job in the mental health field amongst NT cishet coworkers? I’ve experienced discrimination every step of the way in this field and the only way for me to have job security is to finish up my licensure hours somewhere so I can be on my own when licensed.

To be blunt, being Autistic & trans and a therapist will never come with any guarantee of safety, because the entire field of institutionalized mental health is built upon a bedrock of ableism and (often violent) rejection of gender and sexual non-conformity. It's not just the NT and cishet coworkers as individual people that are the problem, it is the entire foundation of the field and what it sets out to do.

Look at what happened to Marsha Linehan -- she was one of the foremost, most accomplished researchers and treatment developers in her subfield and saved thousands of lives, yet she still had her competence challenged and lost a ton of professional respect the moment she came out about being BPD. That is not just the work of biased or bigoted NT individuals, that is the natural consequence of a line of work that by definition categorizes some classes of people as less competent and worthy than others.

I have taught and done consulting work for many organizations and I have never yet seen a mental health facility of any kind where persons with mental illness or neurodivergence are not discriminated against, nor have I ever been particularly impressed with the therapeutic practices or clinical psychology programs that profess to be queer affirming.

Even orgs run and led by trans or Autistic people are still forced to operate by the rules and standards of institutionalized psychology and psychiatry, and so they are invested in promoting respectability politics, stigma, and the theft of disabled people's autonomy to some extent. Obviously some are far more egregious than others. But they are all institutions with unjust power they can leverage over the marginalized, and they're invested as institutions into holding onto that power.

Counseling psychology programs and their graduates tend to be a bit more open minded and less prone to pathologization than clinical psychs, as are the licensed social workers who do not come from conservative Christian background or educational tradition (unfortunately, many social workers do have that kind of background). I wish I could recommend some queer-owned practices but all the ones I'm familiar with are run by rainbow capitalist grifters with no true conception of intracommunity dynamics such as transmisogyny.

When I taught for the Chicago School of Professional Psych, I heard from many of my students about their many licensure hour placements, and none of them sounded like good or safe places to be -- and many of those facilities were far worse to their Black and brown patients than they were for their (majority white) therapists-in-training. But on the whole everyone relatively lacking in power in those spaces was either exploited or judged as inferior or both.

I imagine that working on your own/for yourself would be the best route ultimately-- the few ND therapists I know who are doing a more liberatory practice are quietly doing so on their own. I think that's a sensible long-term goal for you to have. But on the way to getting there, you will be working in spaces that are not safe to you. I would never trust any institution or therapuetic practice to keep you safe, no matter how they brand themselves or how progressive they profess to be.

I think the real question, then, is what supports will you have in place to make getting your licensure hours possible for you? When a colleague microaggresses against you or is discriminatory toward a patient, what will your emotional recovery plan look like? What are the absolute dealbreakers that will make a facility or organization unworkable for you, and what are the nice-to-haves that you can live without?

Basically, if you want to get your necessary hours, you might have to be in survival mode for a while -- and I think having realistic expectations about that and a plan for dealing with the secondary trauma and systemic biases you'll endure is what will make it possible. That said, I'm not a therapist, I've only seen this stuff from the sidelines as a teacher, trainer, program evaluator, and sometimes as a patient. So I would also encourage you to try and find a neurodivergent and queer therapist who has gone through this stuff before, who can serve as a mentor for you. Getting through this process will be tough, and I think it’s important to be realistic about that. You’ll need to steel yourself for a lot of unfairness and ignorance, and you’ll need a good support system in place to help keep you feeling strong in the face of it.

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