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jazlynriddle · 14 days ago

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Welcome to your life - Pt 2:

Acting On Your Best Behaviour Ch 22:

Summary:

They'd seen it in their fellow orphans often enough to recognise the pattern and were now forced to admit, despite their hopes to the contrary, that Isidora had likely suffered similar side effects.

No… they'd always known she had. The Keeper had just wanted the power that Ranrok had, enough to convince themselves that they would be able to handle it better than that naive woman.

With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.

Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

“Hello, Poppy.” The Keeper greeted as they stepped through the entrance of Brood and Peck, closing the door behind them quickly to prevent a diricawl from escaping the beast materials shop.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and wow this is a pretty long chapter-

Not sure why, but my chapters have been getting longer and longer, it's getting harder to cut them off at a middling range, oh well, more to read probably isn't bad xD

I do worry that I do too many in-brain musings in this fic, but like, I feel that humans’ minds are always recontextualising memories and perspectives, and I enjoy writing and documenting the changes in perspective that moments in life create in a person's world-view.

So, there's bound to be some repetition since humans change in small increments irl ya'know? The human brain is the most unreliable narrator on earth.

Fears come back constantly, happy moments are muddled and remembered through dark-tinted glasses when a person's mood is low. Victories become objects of shame and self-loathing. Good things become bad, bad things become good, we forget how happy we were three days ago just because today sucks and we'll forget how much today sucked in three days or suddenly remember it in three years.

Human brains barely make sense half the time and that's when we're just trying to understand our own minds, what we want and what can help us feel better, let alone other people, and then the miss-communication happens.

In the end, all we can do is keep trying to make things better and be honest and communicate, even if we don't know what we're doing or if what we're doing will make us happy and can't be sure if what we're seeing is real or objectively interpreted, and I'm hoping that this ideology of mine gets communicated in this story xD

Poppy turned to smile at them as the shopkeeper, Miss Peck, rang her up. “Oh, just give me a minute and we can get going!”

The Keeper nodded, leaning against the wall beside the door, relieved that she seemed to be more lively today and was wearing more practical clothing, though that could easily be attributed to their destination today.

Wherever that might be, all she'd said was ‘in the forest’, which they would guess meant that they were visiting a beast den. The Keeper was pretty sure that she wasn't stupid enough to visit the snidgets while they had a stalker on their tail, but that still left hundreds of possible venues.

“Alright, let's get going!” Poppy beamed as she shoved the bag of beast feed into her pack, before slinging it over her shoulder and running over to open the door.

“And where are we going?” The Keeper asked with a wry smile as they followed her out the door and onto the path to the right.

“Hehe, you'll see!” Poppy giggled, following the path to Hogsmeade Square before taking the left fork to walk along the river.

As the Keeper passed the stairway leading right, towards the square, they spotted Sebastian and Ominis seated outside Steepley and Sons. A pang of longing hit them like a bludgeon, and they sighed wistfully, wanting more than anything to be by their sides instead.

At least the boys were sitting close together, perhaps their quarrel had been resolved? That would be a relief, the subtle tension between the two of them had been awful to deal with over the week. It hadn't been very prevalent, considering how much of their time was spent studying for the upcoming exams, but it was certainly something lingering in the background as the three fought to stay afloat in their studies.

Realising that her companion had stopped following her, Poppy bounced over, took the Keeper by the hand, and tugged them towards the path eagerly. “Come on, it's this way!”

The Keeper blinked, startled out of their thoughts, and allowing her to pull them up the hill. Somewhere between resigned and bemused by her enthusiasm, as Poppy dragged them a little ways out of Hogsmeade, before slowing at a patch of open grass.

“It's a bit of a walk, so… um, you brought Highwing, right?” Poppy asked sheepishly.

“So, that's why you asked me to bring her.” The Keeper snorted, wondering why she hadn't just said so, they'd have asked Deek to pack Sepulchria in their Nab-sack too, then the two of them could have had a more comfortable flight.

Without another thought, the Keeper summoned Highwing from their Nab-sack and Poppy greeted the hippogriff happily. “How've you been, Highwing?”

The proud beast made a gentle sound, nuzzling against the girl's shoulder and she laughed warmly. “I've missed you too!”

The Keeper smiled fondly, giving the friends a moment to enjoy their reunion, before swinging up onto the hippogriff's back and offering Poppy a hand to climb onto her back as well.

As Poppy made herself comfortable, the Keeper asked. “Where to, then?”

“Upper Hogsfield.” Poppy replied, her heart beating rapidly as she wrapped her arms around their waist, pressing her face against their shoulder blades.

With a nod, the Keeper urged Highwing into flight, keenly aware of their tail following on a broom a ways behind them. Well, fucker could try bringing down a hippogriff if he wanted, he'd have a harder time with Highwing than a broomstick.

“Careful, there's a pretty large spider nest nearby.” The Keeper cautioned quietly as they followed Poppy, finding the forested path they were on rather familiar.

“Two actually, but don't worry, we're not going in that direction.” Poppy replied as she dropped down from a stone ledge, landing with a soft grunt. "It's just a little further."

The Keeper nodded and continued following her, travelling deeper into the forest along the path.

As they did, the Keeper began getting an inkling that Poppy was bringing them to the clearing where Bugbrooke had asked them to search for her Unicorn friend Hazel, a pure white mare who had been injured protecting her from wolves. As requested, the Keeper had taken in the injured beast then, and as they followed Poppy over the rocks, they were not surprised to find themselves in the selfsame clearing.

Ahead of them, Poppy smiled, it was as beautiful as she'd remembered, yellow-green fireflies shimmering and reflecting off the shallow pools of water on the floor, surrounded by deer and hares. With the warm afternoon sun streaming through the trees, it was the perfect place to have a pleasant picnic and, if they were lucky, even meet some Unicorns.

Stopping in the middle of the clearing, Poppy spun around to face her companion, eager to see their reaction to the scenic view as they trailed after her. “Well, what do you think?”

“This is what you wanted to show me?” The Keeper asked, their expression not giving anything away as usual. While that was rather expected, it would have been nice if she could read them this time though. Poppy nodded, finding it difficult to breathe through the pounding of her heart.

“I thought we could use a change of venue and have our tea here.” Poppy explained, placing her hands behind her back, and wringing them nervously.

The Keeper opened their mouth to speak when a whinny, pitched high in distress, reached their ears, and they turned to face it, asking. “Did you hear tha-”

Poppy immediately took off in the direction of the sound.

“Wait! It could well be dange-” The Keeper called out, but there was no stopping her, and they sighed, drawing their wand, and chasing after her.

Running past a few trees, they found Poppy crouched beside a bush, speaking softly. “Hey, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you…”

The Keeper approached cautiously, looking around for any danger. “Pop-”

“Shh.” She shushed them and returned her attention to the bush, holding out a handful of feed. “Here, are you hungry?”

A soft neigh came from the shrubbery, and a moment later, a small gold coated Unicorn foal emerged from behind the bush.

“There we go, it's alright…” Poppy cooed, reaching out to gently stroke the foal's side as the young Unicorn ate hungrily from her hand, frowning in concern. “Where are your parents, little one?”

The Keeper hummed, examining the little Unicorn's golden patterned body, painted with an array of inexplicable patterns, before their eyes widened. This… was a rare and valuable breed of Unicorn, the kind that would wear their golden coat into adulthood. What a stroke of fortune, and this little one's parents were likely of the same bloodline.

“We should see if they're nearby. Revelio.” The Keeper waved their wand as they cast their gaze around, frowning when nothing lit up in their vision.

“Yeah, he's probably scared.” Poppy nodded, standing slowly so as not to spook the foal. “Come on, let's look around.”

The Keeper and Poppy spent the next hour searching the area, the small foal following Poppy at a doddering pace, as a child might, the entire time.

“I guess they aren't nearby…” Poppy sighed, looking discouraged as the two returned to the clearing, the little Unicorn stooping by the water to drink.

“Perhaps they'll return after some time.” The Keeper patted her on the shoulder.

“You're right, I suppose we can have tea until then.” Poppy brightened, looking around before making her way over to the arches of winding wood with flowers adorning each twisting vine and lowering the pack from her shoulder.

The Keeper blinked in confusion, wasn't that where she put the beast fee-

Poppy produced a large, folded mat from the pack, followed by sandwiches wrapped in cloth, a jar of water and a pair of teacups that didn’t even have coverings.

“You put our food with the feed…” The Keeper trailed off at Poppy's confused expression.

“Yes?” She nodded, seemingly not seeing anything wrong with that statement and continuing to lay out their picnic spread.

The Keeper stared at her for a moment, before smiling wryly. Well, it was a Poppy thing to do. The Unicorn foal trotted over to her side, perhaps thinking that he would be getting some food too and the Keeper sighed, about to follow, when a shrill girlish scream came from behind them.

Drawing their wand immediately, the Keeper was promptly struck with confusion when a familiar figure came running up the path towards them, and they soon recognised Macnair's ugly mug. They didn't focus on him for very long however, because behind the motherfucker, was a horde of spiders.

The Keeper cursed, the stupid boy must have disturbed the large nearby nest, they glanced back towards Poppy and the foal. They wouldn't be able to get away with the foal fast enough, so they and Poppy would have to stand their ground here.

“Protect the little guy!” The Keeper shouted at Poppy as the swarm of spiders closed in on the clearing, scuttling over roots and rocks with incredible speed.

“Got it!” Poppy replied, readying her wand as well and standing protectively in front of the trembling foal.

The Keeper nodded, scanning the clearing quickly as the fauna scattered to hide, they would have to utilise some strategy to win this one. They wished they could take a hit, but they neither had the time, nor the privacy to do so. They just had to hope that their stamina would hold out.

Taking a deep breath, they dug into the well of their Ancient magic, stabbing their wand into the earth and channelling that magic through the soil. A moment later, a short wall of earth formed to their left and one to their right. Poppy should likely be able to handle any spiders that got past the bottleneck, at least the twisted wood arches would make it easier for her to defend the Unicorn.

Like hell they were going to lose such a rare specimen.

Sprinting into the clearing, Macnair tried to run past them, through the opening between the walls, before releasing a yelp as the Keeper kicked a leg at him, slamming the front of their shoe into his knee and sending him flat on his face in a puddle of water.

Glaring at them from the floor, the boy stumbled to his feet, pulled out his broomstick, mounted it, and flew upwards quickly through the opening in the trees.

They would've loved to punish the stupid boy further, but they had bigger problems right now and they couldn't afford to waste magical energy on him.

As the first large hairy arachnid crossed the treeline, and the last hare disappeared behind tree roots, the Keeper flung a Bombarda at the wave of spiders, throwing three backwards with a large explosion.

A screech of anger and pain rose from the mass of spiders as they rolled into the clearing like a wave crashing upon the beach. Gritting their teeth, the Keeper shielded themselves with a Protego, breaking the tide like a rock, the cascade splitting into two streams around them and slamming into the walls they'd created.

With that, the battle began.

The spiders were relentless, slashing at the Keeper with their tarsal claws and snapping at them with pincers dripping with poison. They'd had a lot of experience fighting spiders, but not in quantities like this and only alongside Sebastian, who was the sole student in Hogwarts who came even remotely close to the Keeper's prowess in combat. Macnair must have caught the attention of both of the large spider nests nearby, fucking lovely.

The worst part was that they couldn't roll very far from their position, lest they allow more than one or two spiders past them at a time, which meant that they were forced to use Protego continuously and to a strenuous degree. With every Diffindo and every area blast of Incendio, they could feel their magic reserves draining, cursing as they paused to hit a spider with a Confringo, knocking it off the left wall as it attempted to climb over.

Eventually, they reached a point where they couldn't afford to keep using Protego and were forced to resort to physical combat. Drawing the dagger that they kept strapped to their upper arm under their robes, the Keeper transferred their wand to their non-dominant hand, blasting a Bombarda at a spider with one hand as they embedded their dagger deep into another spider's head with the other.

Behind them, the Keeper could hear Poppy casting at the few spiders that made it past their blockade as they kicked a spider away from the gap between the walls and stabbed their dagger into another large spider's carapace.

“Shit-” The Keeper cursed as they attempted to withdraw the blade and encountered resistance. Taking advantage of the opening, a spider jumped at them, slashing its claws down their side, ripping through their robes and digging deep into their flesh, its sharp clawtips scraping against their ribcage.

With a yowl of pain, the Keeper used the ensuing adrenaline spike to wrench their dagger free and jammed it in-between the spider's eyes, right as another spider latched onto their non-dominant arm with a sharp burst of heat.

Struggling to hold onto their wand, the Keeper cast an area Incendio, feeling the flames from their spell lick dangerously close to their skin, forced to cast it slightly closer to themselves than they normally would, to drive the spiders back and give themselves some space.

Using their Ancient magic on the spider still attached to their arm, they shrank down the large insolent creature to the size of a regular spider. It then dropped to the floor where the Keeper ground their heel into the dirt, crushing the spider under their shoe.

Casting a Transfiguration spell on another spider, the great hairy creature turned into an oil barrel, and they swung their wand in an arc, flinging it at the last cluster of spiders with their Ancient magic, where it exploded on impact.

The Keeper bit back another curse as their body screamed in protest, the gash in their side stretching wide open with the gesture and soaking their robes even further, but as heat from the explosion rolled through the clearing, the last of the spiders shrieked as they died.

Breathing heavily, the Keeper held a hand against their bleeding side as they cast their eyes over the clearing, the grassy floor, and pools of water near covered in charred spider corpses. Finally…

Heaving a sigh of relief, they turned towards the arches, the large pile of spider corpses piled in front of it inciting a fond huff from them. Poppy was a force to be reckoned with when there were beasts to protect. She wasn't nearly as skilled as Sebastian, but to an extent, one could attribute some of that inferiority to her spell choice.

About to call out to her, the Keeper stiffened when the ground on the other side of the arches erupted in a spray of soil, right behind the foal. A large spider shot from the cloud of dirt, flinging itself at the foal with its legs raised in attack and the Unicorn let out a loud whinny of fear, catching Poppy's attention.

Without hesitation, she dove in front of the foal, wrapping her arms around it protectively and the spider's sharp tarsal claws slashed down along her back, ripping through the cloth over her shoulder blades. The Keeper felt a jolt of déjà vu, the image of a woman shielding a terrified child from them flashed over their mind's eye, before they were called back into the moment by Poppy's cry of pain.

The Keeper's teeth clenched, at this distance, they might hit her if they used a Diffindo or Confringo. Remembering Sebastian's clever use of Imperio on the goblin that was about to kill Anne, they made a quick decision and cast the unforgivable as the spider raised its pincers again, this time to bite Poppy.

Fortunately, their spell hit their mark and the spider immediately stopped moving. The Keeper sighed in relief, instructing the spider to crawl over to them, slashing its legs off with Diffindo as it approached. Before they placed their wand between its many eyes and fired off a direct Bombarda, causing the back of the spider's head to explode and spray its blood across the floor.

Limping past the mess, the Keeper made their way forward between the walls, waving their wand and pressing the earth back down, returning the clearing's terrain to its original state.

Withdrawing a wiggenweld from their satchel as they approached the arches, they called out breathlessly. “Are you alright, Poppy?”

“Uck- Y- yeah.” Poppy gasped, gripping her shoulder in pain as the patch of red gradually spread over the back of her shirt. Lifting her eyes towards them from her spot kneeling beside the foal, Poppy flashed a wry smile. “See someone's not afraid of the Dark Arts.”

“Got a problem with that?” The Keeper chuckled, wincing as the movement sent stabs of pain through their side.

“Not really.” Poppy shook her head as their hobbling gait finally brought them to her side. “I'm pretty fond of being alive.”

“Here.” The Keeper snorted, offering the potion to her with a grin, which she accepted gratefully, before they gingerly lowered themselves to sit on the picnic mat with a tired sigh, leaning back against the wooden arches. Taking out another wiggenweld for themselves, they popped off the stopper and knocked back the potion quickly, a wave of exhaustion rolling over them.

Sighing in relief as she lowered her empty vial, Poppy grimaced as the skin of her back knitted together under her shirt, glancing over at the Keeper, whose robes were much more bloody than hers, and near drenched in sweat from their battle. After giving the foal a look over and a gentle brush against its coat, she crawled over to their side.

“And you? You look worse off than I.” Poppy asked in concern, brushing a thumb over a cut along their forehead that they hadn't even noticed, the soft touch felt so familiar, a trace of warmth from a moment of kindness.

The Keeper huffed a light laugh. “You're such a mom.”

“A- a mom?” Poppy echoed with a bewildered expression.

“Ah, sorry, you just reminded me of a mother I met once.” The Keeper shook their head, a little surprised that they'd spoken aloud. They must be more tired than they'd thought.

“...you're an orphan, right?” Poppy asked hesitantly.

“Yes, but it wasn’t a prospective parent looking for kids to adopt.” The Keeper shook their head, guessing her thoughts.

“No?” Poppy blinked curiously and the Keeper mentally shrugged, well, there wasn't any reason not to answer.

“A dumb kid threw a rock at me when I was around ten. Little bugger hit me right in the head too.” The Keeper began, tipping their head back to rest against the wood as the wiggenweld began stitching their wounds, resisting the urge to scratch at the spreading itch.

Does that hurt? Gonna go cry to mommy? Oh right, you don't have one! Hahaha!

“I picked it up and decided I'd give him a taste of his own medicine.” They chuckled, remembering how terrified the boy had looked as they shot towards him with the intent of slicing his throat open with the sharp edge of his own weapon. “His mother jumped in to take the hit. Thought she'd be angry at me, but she turned right around and scolded him instead.”

Jonathan Andrew Lewis, what have I told you about hurting others!? Apologise right now!

“She treated my injuries and answered some questions.” The Keeper smiled, remembering how confused they'd been, asking plainly why she had scolded her own son if she cared about him enough to shield him.

Well, I do love my boy, but it's because I love him that I can't let him behave like this. If he keeps starting fights for no good reason, it'll be him that suffers in the end. When you love someone, you want what's best for them, you don't want them to hurt, even if that means you have to fight with them sometimes.

“That was the first time I heard about love. I thought it was a parent thing back then, but I've recently realised it isn't just something that exists between family members.” The Keeper shrugged as they closed their eyes, thus missing the way Poppy's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

They'd probably seen it without realising it at the time, in Sebastian and Ominis, watching the two fight so hard to protect each other in their own way, not because they wanted to hurt each other but because each boy wanted what was best for the other. Because they didn't want each other to hurt.

We've always looked out for each other - Ominis and I. I hope he knows that hasn't changed.

Perhaps that had been the moment that the Keeper really began wanting it, wanting them, wanting to be a part of what Sebastian and Ominis had. Wanting both of them to be happy and to ease their sufferings. Another pang of longing hit them, ah, they just wanted to curl up with the two boys again, to hold the two in their arms, feel their warmth, enveloped in the faint mingling scents of parchment and mint.

They could practically feel it, that contentment and warmth, almost dizzying in its comfort…

“H- hey, are you alright?” Poppy's voice was oddly muffled, as though they were hearing her speak from underwater.

The Keeper felt a cool touch on their forehead and then Poppy's muffled voice became more alarmed. “...you… bitten!?”

There was the rustling sound of Poppy moving about, before the Keeper felt her shaking them by their shoulders, clearing some of the haze that was descending upon their mind. “...with me… where's your… Highwing?”

The Keeper grimaced, fighting to think through the fog that was filling their brain. Highwing… They reached into their satchel, fingers fumbling for their Nab-sack, and their vision blurred as they passed it to Poppy, forcing their body to cooperate enough to speak. “Bring the- Unicorn… dangerous… alone here.”

“I will, just hang in there!” Poppy's words came out in a rush as she frantically summoned Highwing, soothing the Unicorn foal, and securing him in the Nab-sack, before tucking it into her pack temporarily.

“Gently please…” Poppy instructed Highwing as she settled on the hippogriff's back, directing the beast to pick up the Keeper by their arms with its large and strong claws. “Alright, up, Highwing, we must bring them to Nurse Blainey quickly!”

The Keeper felt their stomach turn as the wind kicked up about them and the earth fell away from under their feet. Their last thought as they succumbed to the fog of unconsciousness, was a faint hope that their partners wouldn't be too upset with them for giving them yet another heart attack.

“Will they be alright?” Poppy asked worriedly as the nurse slowly fed the unconscious Keeper a green-tinged fluid with a long glass dropper.

“Yes, don't worry, they'll be just fine.” Nurse Blainey reassured as she placed the empty dropper down on her tray, before slowly lowering the Keeper's head back onto the cot's pillow. “It seems like they got a rather large dose of arachnid poison, so I'll be giving them the antidote every hour till their condition improves.”

“O- okay.” Poppy brushed a few strands of the Keeper’s hair from their face as the nurse adjusted their blanket. “I guess that means they'll be staying the night?”

“Yes, I imagine they should be ready to be discharged tomorrow after noon.” Blainey smiled as she gathered up her tray. “They'll probably sleep till tomorrow, so you can come back again then.”

“...alright.” Poppy nodded slowly as the nurse returned to her office.

Poppy sighed, feeling uncertain about the day's events and what they might mean, the desire to speak with Natty warring with her worry for the Keeper. She hesitated for a few moments, but ultimately decided that there was little she could do here. The Keeper would be safe here under Blainey's watch and she really wanted to talk with Natty.

Standing and setting the Nab-sack down beside their bed, Poppy gave the Keeper one last glance, before leaving the infirmary to search for Natty.

Nurse Blainey looked up from her papers when the small clock on her desk chimed on the hour. Setting down her quill, the nurse left her office to retrieve a tray and prepare the necessary items she'd need to administer another dose of antidote for the Keeper.

When she was ready, she approached the Keeper's bedside and began her routine checks before casting Anapneo on them to make sure their airway was clear, then tilting their head back to prevent choking and inserting the dropper.

Blainey spent the next several minutes slowly feeding them, waiting a few moments more for the Keeper to swallow naturally, before lowering their head back onto the pillow and tucking them back in. As she did so, she heard a faint murmur from her patient.

“...Omi...nis..."

The nurse blinked, finding the word familiar, wasn't that the name of one of the Slytherin boys? That's right, come to think of it, she was rather surprised that the two boys hadn't been with them. Those two had been practically glued to their bedside the last time the Keeper had been warded in her infirmary.

Normally she wouldn't pry in the business of the students, but Blainey was fairly certain that those boys would be here if they knew that their friend had been injured again. Perhaps she should send Mr. Gaunt an owl...

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed up and down the stairwell as Ominis and Sebastian hastened to the infirmary.

As they ran down the hallway, Ominis clutched Sebastian's hand tightly, struggling to keep his fear at bay. Nurse Blainey's letter had said that the Keeper wasn't in any danger, but his blasted mind was still dredging up the stench of rust and iron that had permeated the air the last time the Keeper had been warded.

He’d witnessed Selwyn trying to poison their tea at Steepley and Sons when Sebastian went to use the loo. Idiot probably hadn't realised that Ominis was only blind, not deaf, and he'd tossed the spiked tea before Sebastian could test it on anyone. Macnair must have tried something with the Keeper too.

While he was somewhat mollified by Sebastian staying by his side, Ominis was still upset about the Keeper saying that they would protect Poppy at their own expense because she was only in danger on their account. His lover was not the self-sacrificial kind, they were calculative, and he'd thought that their protective nature extended only to him and Sebastian.

It had surprised him how bitter that revelation had made him, how much he now resented Poppy for having acquired such status. Had he enjoyed it so much? Being special to both the Keeper and Sebastian, being the exception to two individuals with high standards for preferential treatment.

He'd always thought he wanted to be treated like a normal person, like everyone else. Well, not in this context apparently.

Ominis glanced around the infirmary with his wand sight, quickly locating the nurse walking through the room.

“Nurse Blainey, are they alright?” Ominis asked breathlessly, feeling Sebastian release his hand and move past him towards one of the cots, presumably where the Keeper was lying.

“Yes, they're quite alright, I was just about to give them another dose of antidote.” The nurse replied kindly as she made her way to the Keeper's cot where Sebastian was gently wiping the perspiration from their forehead with a handkerchief.

“Do you know what happened?” Ominis asked, standing by the bedside with Sebastian and taking the Keeper's hand in his as the nurse prepared her tray of implements.

“I believe that they and Miss Sweeting were attacked by spiders, both sustained lacerations, but your friend here was also bitten and suffered a rather large dose of arachnid poison. As such, I'll be administering an antidote every hour until their symptoms alleviate.” The nurse explained, as she filled a long dropper with the aforementioned antidote.

Ominis’ jaw clenched as the Keeper's hand burned with a feverish heat against his palm and felt that bitterness return, an ugly feeling coiling in his chest. They were like this for someone else. He wanted to erase that fact with his own hand.

“Nurse Blainey, could I- that is, would you allow me to do that?” Ominis asked haltingly, as the nurse looked up, pausing in her task of feeding the Keeper.

“Administering the antidote?” Blainey asked with some confusion.

He gave a curt nod in return. “I am hoping to become a Healer when I graduate.”

The nurse gave an understanding hum. “A rather unorthodox request but I suppose there's no harm in it, you'll have to follow my instructions, however. Wouldn't want your friend to choke on it, now would we.”

Ominis flashed a wry smile as the nurse placed the dropper in his hands.

“First, we must ensure that the patient's head is tilted backwards slightly to prevent choking.” The nurse placed Ominis hand against the back of the Keeper's neck to feel the angle she had positioned them in.

It was incredibly strange to be holding the Keeper while they were unconscious, their normally tense neck muscles limp and loose against his fingers as he moved his hand into position to support their head, in place of Blainey. There was something almost thrilling about holding them in such a state, their bared neck exposed and vulnerable. Shaking off the odd feeling, Ominis forced himself to focus.

“Next, is to open their mouth by placing your thumb on their chin and pressing down.” The nurse watched in supervision, as Ominis gently opened the Keeper's mouth with his other hand. “Very good, now place the dropper's tip against the wall of their mouth, between the cheek and gums.”

Ominis nodded, lightly tapping the glass tip along the Keeper's teeth to get a feel of where the target space was, and gently rested its tip against the soft inner wall of their cheek.

The nurse nodded with an impressed hum at the accuracy of his placement in spite of his visual impairment. “Excellent, now, you'll need to squeeze the dropper's bulb very slowly and steadily. You want the potion to trickle out in small, controlled amounts, so that the unconscious patient will naturally and automatically swallow it like they would with their saliva.”

Ominis nodded, his eyes narrowed in focus as he followed her instructions. “Could I ask how you determine what ailments a patient is afflicted with?”

“The most common method is the spell Diagnosa, it's a basic Healer spell that draws from your own understanding of the human body to identify symptoms to diagnose a patient. Though, that would only be useful if you already know how to match symptoms to a diagnosis, so it's not included in general education.” Blainey explained, a speculative expression on her face.

“That sounds incredibly useful. Might I ask if you could teach me?” Ominis asked, feeling the resistance of the squeeze bulb ease a moment later and gently slid the glass out from between the Keeper's lips, his fingers brushing over the curve of their mouth.

As he did so, Ominis was struck by a most unexpected impulse to claim those still lips, to feel an unnatural softness that he'd never experienced before, since the Keeper was not exactly a passive kisser and was a very light sleeper. There was a strange tingle under his skin at the thought of experiencing a sensation that no one else ever had.

“It's rare for students to express such clear interest in a particular career and I can see that you have a very steady hand.” Blainey mused.

Ominis almost jumped at the reminder of where he was, his cheeks flushing at being caught in the middle of such unusual thoughts. Fortunately, she seemed to take it as a reaction to her compliment and he offered the nurse the empty dropper, before lowering the Keeper's head back onto the pillow.

“If you'd like, I would be willing to take you on as an apprentice.” Blainey smiled as she set the dropper on her tray.

“I- really? Yes please, I would like that very much.” Ominis nodded with a surprised smile.

“I'll speak with Professor Weasley about this and if you'd like, I can teach you Diagnosa and some basics until curfew.” The nurse gave a bemused huff. “Since the two of you will be staying till then I imagine.”

Ominis flashed a chagrined smile, glad that she didn't seem to hold animosity for his bluntness during the Keeper's first stay a few months ago. He imagined that was something he'd have to get used to as well when he was a Healer, people would be more brusque when upset or in distress like he had been then.

However, while he did rather want to start learning, to have something to focus on, a part of him was reluctant to leave the Keeper's side.

Seemingly sensing his hesitation, Sebastian placed a hand on his arm gently, reminding Ominis of his presence. “Go ahead, I'll let you know if they wake up.”

Ominis relaxed, it never ceased to warm his heart when Sebastian displayed that rare sensitivity that the earnest boy seemed to reserve just for him. Staying by his side all day, supporting him now, Ominis could probably fall in love with him a million times and it would still feel like the first time. If not for Sebastian's inspiring confidence and kindness by his side, or the Keeper easing his fears and uncertainties, Ominis was certain that he wouldn't have the courage to do anything.

Placing his hand over Sebastian's in gratitude, Ominis nodded and followed nurse Blainey towards her office.

Sitting down at a bedside chair, Sebastian sighed wistfully, rubbing at the crescents shaped imprints that Ominis had left on his hand.

It never ceased to impress him, how clear Ominis’ path always seemed to be. His best friend hadn't shown the slightest hint of self-doubt when trying to stop Sebastian from pursuing the relic or when leaving his home and cutting ties with the Gaunts, nor did Ominis ever seem to have any question of what he wanted to do and be.

Ominis had declared, after confiding in Sebastian about his parents forcing the cruciatus on him, that he would become a Healer. That he would spend his life curing and saving the very people whom his parents deemed worthy of derision, purely for their blood purity or lack thereof. Since then, he'd been working towards that goal, slowly but steadily.

In contrast, Sebastian had spent two years searching for a way to cure Anne, failing constantly and when he thought he'd finally found the right path, it too had failed abysmally. Would that he could bear Ominis’ conviction in his own actions without becoming a fool at the same time.

He'd thought Ominis too cautious and afraid, but it had been Sebastian who had been too desperate and afraid, throwing himself into his search to escape the fear. Now, he was feeling desperate again but this time he was trying to cure himself. To cure himself of the doubt that Anne's actions had unearthed from under his stubbornness, but he didn't know what would do that.

He didn't know if anything could do that and that was scarier than being told that he wasn't good enough to save Anne.

Notes:

Did I just give Ominis some mild somnophilia? ...yes. It seems like I did. I don't know, it just came out while I was writing- x'D I'm not even sure why, do you think it's enough that I need to add a somnophilia tag? Please let me know if you do =D

Also, I hope you guys like Diagnosa, because I'm gonna use this spell I made up decently often. It's more like my usual type of world building than JK's, I just can't create something without any realistic logic in it-

I headcanon Sebastian smells kinda woody and paper-like cos the dude's always reading and Ominis just feels like a mint kinda guy for some reason, like a very clean refreshing kind of smell.

Also the Keeper really needs more defence points, kid's a glass canon. Sebastian tank pls xP Imo, Sebastian's use of Imperio to save Anne was a smart decision, every other offensive spell (Diffindo or Confringo) would be dangerous if he missed and hit Anne. If he accidentally hit Anne with Imperio, he could just force her to get out of the way despite her pain, saving her anyway.

Plus, the kid was angry so it's understandable for him to make the goblin gut itself. I mean, imagine your sister got raped and impregnated and there are no abortion clinics so she has to drop out of school and she might die during the birth because she's 14 a year old kid with a frail body and the guy who raped her is about to stab her with a knife.

If you could, you’d probably take his knife and gut him too.

At this stage, Sebastian doesn't yet see the difference between goblins, thanks to social engineering racism. To him this goblin is the same as the one who cursed Anne. (Even though we know now that it was actually Rookwood.)

Sure, he probably shouldn't have had the goblin kill himself in front of her, but the kid was angry and when giving a mental instruction, I imagine it's less defined and clear cut than verbal commands. He could have just been visualising it because he was angry and didn't have the presence of mind to give it a specific order.

Also, the random mom in the Keeper's history is why they have such a healthy idea of what love is, despite being an orphan from a shit orphanage with shittier caregivers. We actually see the Keeper reflect her actions when they blocked a Bombarda for Sebastian during chapter 16 xD

I can't understand the people who say Sebastian was just using Ominis and didn't care about him. Like did they not hear Sebastian? "I didn't want to worry him all over again." And my favourite line, looking out for each other, he only lied and kept secrets because he cares about Ominis, I just don't understand these people.

Also, man, the Keeper was exactly the same kid five years ago huh? “Oh, you threw a rock at me? Prepare to die motherfucker.” xP

Minor sidenote, I added more descriptions for part 1 chapter 3 and added a paragraph to Sebastian's inner monologue in part 1 chapter 11 (when he's approaching the Ndiaye twins) these adjustments don't change the plot at all but just gonna mention it because they're not just one or two rewordings. In case anyone cares enough to get mad at me for changing something like that unannounced xD

Geez my notes are definitely getting longer along with the chapters-

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #gender neutral mc #mc x sebastian sallow #mc x ominis gaunt #sebastian x ominis #sebastian x ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #fanfic #jazlr welcome to your life #jazlr #lgbtqia #nonbinary

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shesey · 1 year ago

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Excerpts from Bessel Van Der Kolk's The Body Keeps the Score

The greatest sources of our suffering are the lies we tell ourselves. We want to think of families as safe havens in a heartless world and of our own country as populated by enlighten, civilized people. We prefer to believe that cruelty occurs only in faraway places like Darfur or the Congo.

Most human suffering is related to love and loss and that the job of therapists is to help people acknowledge, experience, and bear the reality of life - with all its pleasures and heartbreak.

Our capacity to destroy one another is matched by our capacity to heal one another. Restoring relationships and community is central to restoring well-being. Language gives us the power to change ourselves and others by communicating our experiences, helping us to define what we know, and finding a common sense of meaning... We can change social conditions to create environments in which children and adults can feel safe and where they can thrive.

Trauma almost invariable involves not being seen, not being mirrored, and not being taken into account.

If an organism is stuck in survival mode, its energies are focused on fighting off unseen enemies, which leaves no room for nurture, care, and love. For us humans, it means that as long as the mind is defending itself against invisible assaults, our closest bonds are threatened, along with our ability to imagine, plan, play, learn, and pay attention to other people's needs.

How many mental health problems, from drug addiction to self-injurious behavior, start as attemps to cope with the unbearable physical pain of our emotions.

... knowing that we are seen and heard by the important people in our lives can make us feel calm and safe, and why being ignored or dismissed can precipitate rage reaction or mental collapse. It helped us understand why focused attunement with another person can shift us out of disorganized and fearful states.

When the message we receive from another person is 'you're safe with me,' we relax.

Most of our energy is devoted to connecting with others.

...almost all mental suffering involves either trouble in creating workable and satisfying relationships...

Being able to feel safe with other people is probably the single most important aspect of mental health; safe connections are fundamental to meaningful and satisfying lives.

The critical issue is reciprocity: being truly heard and seen by the people around us, feeling that we are held in someone else's mind and heart. For our physiology to calm down, heal, and grow we need a visceral feeling of safety. No doctor can write a prescription for friendship and love: These are complex and hard-earned capacities.

Be patient towards all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.

The most common response to distress is to seek out people we like and trust to help us and give us the courage to go on.

Supressing our inner cries for help does not stop our stress hormones from mobilizing the body.

The most natural way for human beings to calm themselves when they are upset is by clinging to another person.

... Human beings may be induced to sacrifice everything they hold dear and true -- including their sense of self -- for the sake of being loved and approved of by someone in a position of power.

i like my body when it is with your body ... muscles better and nerves more.

Economist have calculated that every dollar invested in high-quality home visitation, day care, and preschool programs results in seven dollars of savings on welfare payments, health-care costs, substance-abuse treatment, and incarceration, plus higher tax revenues due to better-paying jobs.

When we play together, we feel physically attuned and experience a sense of connection and joy.

However, the most natural way that we humans calm down our distress is by being touched, hugged, and rocked.

While trauma keeps us dumbfounded, the path out of it is paved with words, carefully assembled, piece by piece, until the whole story can be revealed.

Feeling listened to and understood changes our physiology; being able to articulate a complex feeling, and having our feelings recognized, lights up our limbic brain and creates an 'aha' moment. In contrast, being met by silence and incomprehension kills the spirit.

Death, destruction, and sorrow need to be constantly justified in the absence of some overarching meaning for the suffering.

This is one of the most profound experiences we can have, and such resonance, in which hitherto unspoken words can be discovered, uttered, and received, is fundamental to healing the isolation of trauma - especially if other people in our lives have ignored or silenced us. Communicating fully is the opposite of being traumatized.

Public story and inner experience finally meet.

The object of writing is to write to yourself, to let yourself know what you have been trying to avoid.

Like a splinter that causes an infection, it is the body's response to the foreign object that becomes the problem more than the object itself.

#the body keeps the score #bessel van der kolk #trauma

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theawakenedstate · 1 year ago

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Are you Living in a Vibration of Abundance Mindset or Scarcity Thinking? We’re kicking off the first Live workshop in the membership: Rooted into Abundance and I wanted to talk a bit deeper into WHY having an Abundance Mindset can completely transform your life and relationships.

With being in mid Inflation, Recession talk and an ever-changing landscape of stressed-out grocery visits with humor-induced poverty memes floating across social media – This current era is reeking of scarcity talk 😱👻💀

Let’s Face it – Understanding the concept of Abundance vs Scarcity thinking is an important Discussion now more than ever.

It’s a level of Law of attraction that goes a bit deeper than just Materialism – it’s about going into the ROOT OF MINDSET and ENERGETICS.

and Mindset is my specialty 😉

Here’s the Question, you need to embrace:

Are you living in a vibration of Abundance or a vibration of Scarcity?

This is a concept that can seriously change your life as I often see this problem with so many people especially within the Spiritual Community.

If you’re looking for the secret to a happier, more peaceful or even gentler life, all you need to do is open up to New Mindsets. The one in particular i’m talking about is learning to condition your mind to an Abundance Mindset.

Scarcity Thinking Keeps you Limited In a Scarcity mindset we’re always associating from the illusion of separation by believing there is never enough and there is only a limited supply available to us.

our vibrations give off a desperate, needy energy that feels like we’re trying to push too much to get a desired result. This mentality keeps us contracted, stuck and gets us to believe we’re only in a very limited reality.

In a limited reality you can only see what is right in front of you, instead of believing beyond what you can physically see.The Abundance that is always available to us.

This is why a scarcity mindset can bring a lot of unconscious pain, struggle and suffering.

Signs You’re in a Scarcity Mindset:

Energetic attachments. You overly attach to people, things or even outcomes.

You desperately Cling to Relationships or try to Control them

Creating a pushy and needy energy – gotta gotta gotta get it done

You often are afraid to make investments or spend money (especially on yourself) due to fear.

You may have a fear of getting rid of things and have trouble letting go, (hoarders anyone?)

Always Jealous or envious of what others have and you don’t

Holding a lot of resentment, especially over wealthy people, more fortunate people or people who have more than you

You create a lot of Judgment, Negative self-talk and prone to trolling or picking up debates

Time is often your enemy – there is never enough time – right?

Comparisonitis – We compare ourselves to others, feeling we’re not good enough in our true authenticity

You feel inferior to higher brands, luxury stores or can’t even imagine being close to one.

You believe people are stealing energy from you or you are worried about others copying you

You are a miser when it comes to ideas, money or things – not willing to share

You fear change or dislike heavily feeling uncomfortable if your routine is off creating a ton of cognitive dissonance when experiencing change

You tend to merely settle for less than what you deserve.

You tell yourself you can’t have what you want and you have a whole story of excuses to go with it.

5 ways an Abundance Mindset Can Transform Your Thinking and Inevitably Your Life

1. An Abundance Mindset Trains You to KEEP GOING + ATTRACT MORE

When you Focus on conditioning yourself to have an Abundance Mindset –

You DROP your negative Bias and Begin to Keep going.

You Start Attracting More abundance in all forms such as Love, More than enough of what you need, desire and want, money, abundance of health, etc.

Scarcity: Stops you in your Tracks from taking action you need to take due to FEAR and UNCERTAINTY

2. Abundance Mindset Enhances your Relationships

When you’re in an Abundance Mindset, you naturally attract deeply loving fulfilling relationships, good support, communication and active listening.

Because you’re focused on the natural abundance IN the relationship – you’re not constantly projecting that this person isn’t enough, you’re not weighing pros and cons and you’re certainly not being inauthentic with who you are so you don’t attract that either.

Scarcity: highlights flaws: Nothing IS WORSE than when someone picks you apart, when you come at a lens of scarcity all you see is what someone isn’t doing, their weaknesses or misgivings – you’re deflecting the love and abundance in your actual relationship

3. We Believe unconditionally there is always more than Enough

When you train your mind to believe unconditionally there is always more than enough, you soften your nervous system to feel safer.

You suddenly are okay to relax, let go of ‘there’s never enough time, food, money, etc. and ‘you’re not enough.

You Shift your Perception to filter from ‘there is always more than enough for my needs, desires and wants to be met always no matter what, i am infinitely supported by the divine supply.

Scarcity: Heightens your Anxiety of fear of the future which products an unconscious reaction to go into Fight/flight Mode – producing a survivalist reaction to simple mundane things – even if it’s simply ‘the day to get groceries’ your BRAIN DOESNT KNOW THE DIFFERENCE and panics.

4. You Allow Yourself the Freedom to JUST BE ENOUGH

This is SO COMMON and an issue i’ve also dealt with time and time again – When you focus on your Abundance internally – You allow yourself to be enough as you are.

You stop trying to be something or someone you’re not, you relax into being the fullness of you – the abundance of YOU (we’ll be talking about this concept in the workshop for sure)

The Abundance of You is you in your fullest authentic expression of self.

Scarcity: Projects an illusion that you’re always doing it wrong, you’re never enough or too much for people, you can’t just settle into being you. This causes a reactive habit of external influence and project success always telling you WHO TO BE.

5. When you Think Differently – You ACT DIFFERENTLY

When conditioning yourself to operate from an Abundance Mindset, you suddenly will start to take different intuitive aligned actions forward.

You will suddenly gain: energy, insight, love of self, intuition, passion, and even confidence

Scarcity: Because Scarcity thinking keeps you in doubt and limited thought.

What do you think? Which one most resonates with you?

Rooted into Abundance: The Live Workshop event is Now Open!

Grab your Ticket or Join the new membership to save your seat today!

Rooted into Abundance is a Live Online Event and interactive Workshop Experience designed to help you Step More Fully into Empowered Abundance and Confidence in your life.

A Grounded Down to Earth Conversation on the Root Chakra to help you Transform your Scarcity Thinking into Abundance. Overcome Scarcity/Lack Mindset, and Break Free from Your Perceived Limitations.

Full Details Below: http://theawakenedstate.net/rooted-into-abundance-workshop/

https://www.theawakenedstate.net/5-ways-an-abundance-mindset-will-transform-your-life/

5 Ways an Abundance Mindset Will Transform Your Life

#abundance #abundance mindset #abundant thinking #mindfulness #mindset

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sprites4ever · 5 months ago

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THE LOW VOLTAGE MISANTHROPE VS THE HIGH VOLTAGE HUMANIST

„I honestly can't tell what's more tragic: Humans destroying their species and the earth out of selfishness, or humans wanting their species to be destroyed because of that.“

Visiting an ocean exhibition today, which mentioned overfishing and ocean pollution, got me thinking about environmentalism and science, and what others have told me about them.

Not just in my generation, Generation Z, but especially in my generation, I see misanthropism, the hatred for the human race. They talk about how humans are inherently horrible, killing and ruining each other and the planet, and how humans don't deserve this world and should just stop living.

Now, in my generation, a lot of that stems from suffering-induced self-hatred, people projecting their hatred for themselves onto humans. But it's more systemic than that.

Arguably, the origin of misanthropism, coupled with anti-intellectualism stems from WWII. Because the Nazis used new technology to inflict unparalleled human suffering and death, and because they justified it with a twisted parody of Darwinist biology, claiming that they were the best 'race' who had the right to destroy the others. This is acutally where the mad scientist trope comes from, as the Nazis didn't have scientists. German scientists had fled the Nazis or were killed by them, since every autocrat's greatest weakness is people who can see through their propaganda. What the Nazis had, was insane people who were paid to invent new torture methods.

This, and the subsequent development of the nuclear bomb, created a new view on humanity, one in which humans and the things they do (those being science and technology) are inherently evil. Misanthropism.

It is false, and there are two reasons why it exists, both having their root in the fundamental, archaic nature of us humans, as seen from a biological perspective.

Negativity bias Originating from our archaic survival instinct, we focus on the bad and do not appreciate the good. We do this because we perceive the bad to be a threat. This is also why we want to be good, because we want to solve the issues with the bad, to stop the threats. Factually, there is as much good in the world, and in each of us, as there is bad. But we only pay attention to the bad and pass off the good.

Egocentrism Being predators by nature, humans are selfish by nature. This leads to each of us having a worldview that is centered around how we perceive the world, and each of us assumes their view to be true. So, if someone has seen a lot of human evil, in concert with negativity bias, they will project it on all humanity.

Misanthropes beat up their own species over some members of said species violating standards that their species has created. Factually, we have as much of a right to live on earth as all other species. Factually, we humans did not invent violence, war, conquest, mass destruction etc. Look up ant wars.

And yes, evil people do horrible things that affect so many humans and other creatures. But they are the fewest, and most people who serve them are not evil, only deceived into thinking that they're doing a good thing.

So, good people must not limit themselves in their ability to affect each other and the world. They must not reject technology or society. Like how a hammer can be used to build a home or to bash a person's skull, like how a nuclear chain reaction can be used to generate power or to cause an explosion that kills hundreds of thousands, these things, just like every other thing humans have invented, are neutral tools that humans can use for good or evil.

Evil humans will use them anyway, so the good humans must stop the evil ones from using these things for evil, and not stop themselves from using them for good.

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aisyahstateofmind · 1 year ago

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Design Manifesto

Our design manifesto consists of a few rules we live by when it comes to design. Some are technical, some are more wise. Some of mine are “I’ll always listen to Ariana Grande as I work”- I wrote this because as I continue to evolve as a designer, my choice of music always stays the same. I could listen to her acoustic, live, her instrumentals alone… there’s just something about her music that keeps my momentum going!

Asking questions and not being afraid falls under the same line to me. I find that asking questions can be so scary sometimes. I’m scared of what people might think of me when I reach out for help. But it can be much scarier suffering in silence. Back in Year 1, I was still new to the concept of college and still adjusting to the transition from secondary school. I struggled so much in Digital skills where we were first introduced to Photoshop. The tutorials and lectures went by so fast and it was hard to keep up. I couldn’t even start my assignments simply because I didn’t know how to. It took me a long time to muster the courage to ask my lecturer in-charge for some guidance. He was more than willing to help me and made sure I understood. After that, asking questions became a much easier task for me. It’s not as anxiety-inducing as it was back then compared to now.

‘I’m open to trying new things’ is something I’ve been trying to practise. As I’m heading towards internships soon, I have to be more open-minded. This means working alongside new people, trying out new styles. I’m currently experiencing this across all my modules. Group work becomes more consistent and I’m forced to be out of my bubble. My sister always tells me stories from her internship, and she tells me the most important thing when stepping into a new company is to be open to collaborating. The work I start will eventually be passed on to someone else, and everybody gets a say in what the outcome turns out to be.

Even my lecturers say the same thing, that’s why our workspaces are massive, to encourage collaboration.

Lastly, this isn’t a part of my group manifesto, but it is a part of my own. It’s to stand by my values at all times. What I mean by this is to always speak up and not let my ideas be drowned out. In class, ideas are often exchanged and along the way, they’re overlooked or misunderstood. In CTS, we learn to practise self integrity. If I like something, I’ll stand up for it. In Studio, I had a consultation with my lecturer and we were not on the same page with a poster I designed. He thought it looked ‘off’ and so I had to back myself up with my concept, the message I intended to convey through the poster. Afterwards, it slowly started to make sense and he eventually grew to like it.

495 words

#manifesto #design #creative

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nikk2003 · 1 year ago

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nov 2 , 2023

The begining of the end..

i just cant believe i used to jerk myself 3,4,6 times a day...can u believe it ... what kind of maniac does that freaking 5-6 times per day , it was not for the month.. it was not for just a year but for 6 YEARS...

What did I experienced in these all years

GUILT -- i always used to think it was my last time and it never gonna happen again ...but every 3 days i got a relapse and also I used to waste approx 2-3 hours even whole nights searching for just the good stuff...😵after finishing ...if i amount the time i used to porn it would amount almost 1-1.5years of my life. ohh goshhh a terrific waste of time

PROCASTINATION-- i wont dig deep into it but when there is a guilt there is demotivation where there is demotivation there is procastination..so i procastinated my studies which resulted in backlog i skipped my gym..

MILD PED -- well those who doesnt know what PED stands for it means porn induced erectile dysfunction well its just a Psychological conditions in which u condition urself to jerk off while watching others .. which brings me to my next point

VOYEURISM-- in layman's terms voyeurism is gaining self pleasure which watching others have sex which makes me think of make one a cuck and getting into cuckold sooner or later..do u see how dangerous it gets with each points

U CRAVE MORE-- the time comes when u dont enjoy the old porn u used to enjoy U WANTED SOMETHING MORE... that's where things get messy people get engaged into many different unrealistic kind of porn which i dont want to talk about..but its really bizzare..when we get into the rabbit hole..

I NEEDED TO QUIT...!!

The Truth

well i havent experienced 4,5 point that i mentioned above tho i thought i would tell u all coz it was something happing with my friends

the reason why i decided to confess all of the things is simple i wanted to be transparent and i wanted a new beginning.. i appreciate a gift called LIFE and i dont want to waste it which is not real ..coz the porn the industry shows us is not how sex feels like it's totally different...i decided to Quit and this is my journey where i ll over come all of my temptation and would also help anyone who is reading and suffering the problem..i know it's hard to accept tht u have an addiction but trust me its the first way to move on ACCEPTANCE ... accept the way u r and make a promise for urself and for future self coz afterall the way u r now determined how u gonna be in future..do u wanna live in regrets ? i guess not no one wants one..

in this No Nut November lets make a promise to break this habit of ours and not only break it but atleast replace it with 1 good productive habit it can be any reading books 📚 playing outside workout anything...

hope u ll learn from my experience if u wanted to join me in this journey of self improvement and discovering the new you lets start it...

((if this post gets 9 likes i would share the things i m doing to avoid temptation))

till thn take care...

nikk2003----------------------------------------------

#guilttrip #my truth #self care #transformation #new start #confessions #addiction #nnn #no nut november #inspiration #inspiring quotes

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solhwellness · 1 year ago

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Impact of Disconnect from Nature on Mental Health | Solh Wellness

Have you ever noticed how certain environments affect your mood? Our environment can have an impact on everything, including how our bodies function and how calm or tense we are. When we encounter concern or despair in a stressful situation, our bodies' systems may go into overdrive. On the other hand, being in a stunning natural environment might help us feel better and unwind. Everyone, regardless of age or social status, finds relaxation in time spent in nature.

Our mental health suffers greatly when we are cut off from nature. The following are some repercussions of our detachment from nature:

Your Mental Health is Affected: Because you won't get to take advantage of the outdoors on a lovely day, spending too much time indoors might be detrimental to your mental health. According to studies, obtaining more sunlight—even through a window—can make individuals feel more relaxed. Having access to natural light while working has also been demonstrated to potentially lessen feelings of dread and anxiety.

During the winter, a lot of individuals get the "winter blues," and staying inside could just make them feel worse. Going outside can make you feel better about yourself, happier, and more fulfilled in life.

Your Sleep is Affected: Your brain uses the first rays of sunlight as a crucial cue to control your internal clock. The proper release of sleep-inducing hormones like melatonin may be compromised if you don't get enough sunlight during the day. It could be difficult to get to sleep at night.

For better sleep, try to get some sunlight during the day. When necessary, it will help you stay up longer, and when it's time to sleep, it will be simpler for you to do so.

Your Body Feels Tired and Sluggish: Being weary and achy when you're young isn't usually an indication of getting older. You might feel more worn out if you spend too much time indoors sitting down and not enough time exercising.

Even a brief walk around the block can counteract the negative consequences of a sedentary lifestyle. It's an easy way to increase your vigour and drive.

You May Lack Essential Vitamins: Vitamin D, which is necessary for human health, may be found naturally in sunlight. If we don't get enough sun, our bodies might become vitamin D deficient, which can cause irritability, fatigue, and other health problems.

Because of their limited sun exposure, many Americans are vitamin D deficient. You can receive the vitamins your body requires by spending more time outside.

Your Productivity Might Suffer: Natural light has a beneficial effect on productivity, which may have an adverse effect on you. This could reduce your productivity. Studies demonstrate that spaces with more natural light have higher sales and that employees have more energy when working in those areas. Efficiency may provide you more free time to unwind and enjoy life.

Conclusion

The benefits of spending time outside on your physical and emotional health are numerous. Your mood, energy, sleep, and overall health can all be enhanced by it. To live a happier and healthier life, take into account spending more time in nature.

We at Solh feel that self-care is essential, thus we have selected a variety of effective self-help choices to improve your wellbeing. We provide a variety of services, including goal-setting, mood analysis, self-assessment tests, journaling, and access to a sizable collection of educational materials. Utilise our extensive collection of self-help resources to take control of your path to greater mental health and personal growth.

#effects of nature on mental health #impact of nature on mental health #nature and mental health #psychological benefits of being in nature

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coldalbion · 5 years ago

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THINGS WOT I HAVE LEARNT AFTER BEING VIRTUALLY HOUSEBOUND FOR 3 YEARS THAT MAY BE HELPFUL TO THOSE IN SELF ISOLATION AND/OR LOCKDOWN DURING THE CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC

(Background: I have a lifelong disability and am a wheelchair user. After surgery I’ve basically been stuck living and sleeping in one room for three years. These are things I have learnt which may help, though with the caveat that everyone is different, and baseline mental health varies.)

1. YOUR MENTAL HEALTH WILL PROBABLY SUFFER - and although humans are social creatures, even the most introverted will chafe against boundaries enforced upon them by circumstance. The degree to which it suffers will be related to your mental health baseline and physical health. Understand that this IS NOT YOUR FAULT. Stimuli and enrichment methods are required. It’s why animals need such things in zoos and conservation parks. This leads us on to my next point.

2. COMPREHEND WHICH ACTIVITIES ARE ACTIVE AND PASSIVE FOR YOU Spending your confinement solely doing passive things (watching TV, Netflix, browsing the internet, scrolling through the internet) will take a load off your brain and make the time pass quicker. But if that’s all you do, the sense of disconnection increases over time. Activities which require you to *do* something, even if it’s just engaging your motor skills via video games, or lifting some cans of beans, or actively reading - these deliberate acts foster a tiny sense of achievement which gives your brain a dose of helpful chemicals. If you want to consider your activities, look up the work of Marshall McLuhan as regards “hot media” and “cold media” (See https://mediawiki.middlebury.edu/MIDD…/Hot_versus_cool_media for basic premise.) Balancing out your media intake with hot and cold activities keeps your brain active and pumping tasty neurotransmitters.

3. LIMIT YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA USAGE TO SOCIAL PURPOSES. Infinite scrolling as found on many social media platforms is a hot medium, as per McLuhan. The reason Likes exist is to give that little spike of interactivity. It’s not a conspiracy to say many platforms are designed to keep you on them so they can show you more ads. (See also https://www.theguardian.com/…/has-dopamine-got-us-hooked-on… which explains the brain chemistry angle) However, DM’s and other messaging faculties are supremely useful. Use them to interact with your friends, indulge your fandom theories. Person to person interaction requires and enhances deep-seated neurological and biophysical reflexes. Text your mates. Skype/Facetime or otherwise call them. Use the technology of the 21st century for genuine social ends, deliberately. Catch up with their lives one to one or in groupchats.

4. PICK TIMES TO CHECK THE NEWS AND STICK TO THEM. This relates to point 3 - unfortunately we live in a 24hr news cycle, with constant liveblogging of important issues. This means that we’re constantly streaming anxiety inducing situations into our brains JUST IN CASE. That’s not helpful, particularly when you can’t actually DO anything about those events - the urge to DO something is why people are panic-buying. It’s a very basic primordial need to grab resources for defence. By picking times of the day to check news, you are again, making a DELIBERATE CHOICE, enacting some small level of agency, while at the same time limiting anxiety-inducing stimuli. If the news gets too much, then don’t check it as much - or at all - and do something else.

5. IF YOU DO THINGS WITH FRIENDS, SEE IF YOU CAN DO THEM ONLINE. Run that game of DnD/Other TTRPG you’ve been meaning to. Hold your book club online. Have a few drinks online over voice-chat if you are missing the pub. Hold watch parties for your favourite shows. The key, as ever, is to be engaged rather than passive. It’s harder if you’re ill, yes, but it can be done.

6. USE YOUR IMAGINATION TO CREATE THINGS. Write that fanfic. Start that novel. Design that game. Doodle. Paint. Humans have been creating since the day we became human. Consider things from the perspective of a pre-modern person. Make handprints on your own personal cave wall - contact each other and tell spooky stories. Build a complex fantasy world. Write an account of your confinement for some person to find pieces of years after you’re gone from the world. Think about a problem, and learn how to solve it via taking online classes (See http://www.openculture.com/freeonlinecourses) Write an essay on your chosen passion or hyperfixation - nobody needs to read it but you. Treat yourself to intellectual stimulation, if that’s your thing.

7. IF YOU HAVE A SPIRITUAL. RITUAL, OR MEDITATIVE PRACTICE DO IT. It doesn’t matter if it’s not perfect, or limited in scope. This also includes atheists and those who despise woo - you have personal rituals, things you do that have Meaning to you as a person. Maybe it;s alphabetizing your music collection, or spring cleaning or cooking your favourite meal like grandma used to make. Humans have patterns they perform. When you perform them DELIBERATIVELY (or dare I say MINDFULLY) you become aware that these are the scaffolds that structure human life.

8. STRUCTURE YOUR TIME. Following on from 7, we often don’t realise the structure of our lives until it is disrupted. When that’s removed, our minds can go into freefall. If you’re isolated/in lockdown, oftentimes you won’t be able to access those structures. Rather than wait for them to to become accessible again and risk a period of feeling lost and directionless, which can enhance depression and anxiety, it’s best to develop a new structure based on the resources you have. It can be as loose or as strict as you like, but sticking to it allows us to develop a rhythm which makes time pass in recognisable fashion and gives us a sense of being-in-the-world as some sort of engaged process.

9. KEEP YOUR SLEEP PATTERN REGULAR AND LONG ENOUGH. The key here is REGULAR. Following on from 8, it’s important to keep your body well rested, as this aids your immune system and cuts down on the possibility of your body having to deal with stress . If you’re ill it’s harder to keep this regular, because sometimes your body just needs sleep to regenerate NOW. Equally in isolation, particularly if you’re feeling mentally low, it can be tempting to sleep forever, because y’know, you’re feeling low and what’s the point. (Of course the point is why we have 8 in particular, along with all the rest.)

OBVIOUSLY EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT. Particularly for those with disabilities or chronic illnesses, we may be even more limited in our activities while isolated than able bodied folks. That said, the key is to remember that certainly during this pandemic, and otherwise YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE FEELING THIS WAY. Rubbish as it may be, many are in the same boat. If it pleases you to, seek them out - see what commonalities you have, what hopes and dreams and fascinations you may share. FIND THE OTHERS - it’s what humans have always done.

Be well.

#coronavirus #disability #cripkult

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

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Do you have any salt about Furious Fu? Maybe it’s just me, but something is rubbing me wrong.

yes, take the salt

Firstly, the episode freaking begins with the kwami arguing with Marinette over wanting to go see Fu, who is apparently coming back to Paris for a while for no explained reason (Marinette's there so we can imagine that she's part of it but that’s not enough).

Sure, they explain that they miss him because they were with him for over a hundred years but they were in the box for basically all that time?

They also give her puppy dog eyes and I s2g we’ve done this and had a lesson around it in "The Puppeteer"...

And... look, I get it, the show clearly wants Marinette to struggle at being guardian, meaning that the kwami have to be a hindrance of sorts, but it'd be nice if they didn't do that by behaving like literal children. It's not even that I can't see some of the kwami acting this way, because we don't even know all of their personalities, but when they all share one personality - and brain cell apparently to not understand why they can't come along - it makes the kwami less like actual characters and more like props.

I complained about it in "Sandboy" as well but at least that episode had Sass be an odd one out and showed moments of the individual kwami having lines separate from each other. Barkk is the odd one out here, but it feels more like a necessity, like someone had to stay behind (and maybe they thought it was funny to have it be the “guard dog,” which... you know what, fine, I’ll give them that).

Even if they were in groups, it would've been nice to see each kwami have different opinions, some liking Fu, some not, and some being indifferent to him. I just can’t see characters like Sass or Trixx or Pollen (especially Pollen, who seems to be the “takes orders” type) begging so hard to go.

The kwami even keep making noise in Marinette’s bag even though she told them to keep quiet. Again, it's way too convenient that so many of the kwami who were in the box act like this, and I hate that it's just another jab at Marinette for being “too nice” by letting them roam freely outside of the box. It’s as if the episode is saying, “See, Marinette?? If you just trapped them in the box and didn’t give them a say in things then this wouldn’t have happened!”

There’s also the scene later with Wayzz literally crawling on the ground towards Fu which--why. Did they really want to stretch the “they’re acting like children,” thing that much? Because Wayzz could’ve just flown under the bench and watched from below, but instead we get Marinette panicking and being embarrassed and having to lie because Wayzz kind of “fanboys” over Fu touching him??

Then there’s Su-Han who just--is a mess?? Like, first off, he invaded this teenage girl’s room and I would think that he’d have at least some respect for other people’s space. It’s really distracting that our flashbacks to the temple seem to imply that these people are more zen/chill (similar to Fu) but then this guy is strict and rude because of course he is. He has to criticize and pressure Marinette so they intentionally wrote him that way.

Secondly, there’s not even any self-awareness from him. He complains about how Fu didn’t live up to his expectations but I guess we’re just going to ignore that it’s pathetic that the temple didn’t keep tabs on the teenager who clearly didn’t want to be there.

Thirdly, he spouts a bunch of sayings/proverbs and it’s just--”hey did you know this character is Chinese???” (I’m not going to get on him for the “doesn’t know technology” since he just hasn’t been around in 150+ years).

Fourtly, the timing. I hate the timing. “Feast” happened like mid-Season 3 and now this guy shows up, after Marinette has had this responsibility thrust upon her? Not only that, but he shows up on the same day that Fu happens to make an appearance? “Kwamibuster” already tested my limits for coincidental happenings, but this episode went too far. It’s all too much.

Fifthly, there’s the lack of... consistency, I guess you could say? He says that Plagg is “free” even though Marinette just told him that Plagg has a holder, and then he blames Marinette for losing miraculouses (she did in the “Queen’s Battle” two-parter but there’s literally no way he’d know that) after Marinette tells him that FU lost the peacock and butterfly. He even pulls out a rulebook while doing so as if Marinette knows any of the rules, and he’s doing this to this teenage girl who became guardian while the temple was destroyed so there was no one else to teach her.

Speaking of "Queen's Battle," this episode does something similar by ignoring any plot point with Marinette and making it more about someone else, in this case being Su-han and Fu (Furious Fu specifically also spouts a bunch of proverbs by the way; ugh).

Remember how "Queen Wasp" gave Marinette the option of going to New York with Audrey, but then immediately brushes it aside and gives it no consideration in favor of Chloe, boiling down Marinette's whole thing to, "well, she's Ladybug so she can't go, end of story."? Here, we know for a fact that Marinette has been struggling in past episodes due to her status as guardian (something could’ve changed, though I doubt they’d drop that entire plot point in five episodes), but the episode doesn't even bring up the fact that Marinette might be happier without being the Ladybug guardian that she is. The kwami don't defend her as their guardian and Tikki doesn't have a big reaction to Su-Han essentially saying that he's taking her miraculous and forcing her to revoke her guardian status.

The episode is from Marinette’s perspective but it’s not about Marinette. She doesn’t really get a say or thought in things. We spend three full minutes in Marinette's room at the beginning and it's just wasted time when they could've spent it focusing on the actual conflict. I don't understand how the season’s trailers could put so much stock into Marinette suffering because of her responsibilities and then not even get into her being given the option to free herself from them.

Obviously we want Marinette to continue being an awesome Ladybug/guardian but we also want her to be happy, yet the episode presents this conflict as if Su-Han taking away - you know - the thing that’s caused her tons of anxiety and stress is a bad thing and only a bad thing. Su-Han is put in the wrong and Ladybug only gets one comment about how “maybe he’s right because we haven’t defeated Shadow Moth yet.”

I’m not saying that Su-Han is in the right - maybe there’s no better Ladybug than Marinette - but she’s been suffering for it and I hate that we don’t even get one moment of Marinette considering that she’d be free. Just something like Tikki or the kwami (who had already been set up to be a hindrance/annoyance to Marinette) feeling some level of guilt and thinking that it might be best if they leave.

But we don’t get that, because Marinette not being Ladybug means that the show’s plot is over. Therefore, it’s bad.

We’re also not given a reason as to why Marinette wants to continue being the Ladybug guardian. She’s willing to give up her miraculous and so is Chat Noir, but once the subject of Ladybug’s memory being wiped is brought up and Chat Noir is presented with the realization that she’ll forget him specifically (because of course it’s about him and not all the other potential memories she’d lose), he shifts gears and forces Su-Han to fight him if Su-Han wants his miraculous, which then suddenly gets Ladybug to change her tune as well.

And yes, we don’t know how much of Ladybug’s memory is going to be wiped because it’s not explained, and I also understand that Sunk Cost Fallacy applies where we’re not supposed to want Ladybug to wipe her memories because she already went through so much so why throw it away now, but...

If guardians are doomed to wipe their memory eventually anyway, wouldn't it be better for Marinette to do it now (cue all the Lukanette fanfics about Marinette forgetting and then being super uncomfortable around Adrien because all she feels around him is humiliation and discomfort) and at least have the rest of her life to build those memories back up than do it later and die not knowing such a large chunk of her life? We can presume that the show is going to have some way around the memory loss but they don’t know that.

So yeah, I don’t like that the episode basically comes in with the kwami being a burden to Marinette, Su-Han lecturing her (and there’s not even dialog about him potentially tutoring her; he only says that he’s sticking around Paris), and coming off of what we know are episodes based around Marinette suffering due to keeping secrets, yet the episode throws all of that under the rug because we’re supposed to not want her to give all her stress-inducers up for some reason.

#category: salt #episode: Furious Fu #other: ask and answer

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volturiwolf · 4 years ago

Text

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 2)

No of Words: 5182

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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part 1

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Felix’s POV:

My days in the castle were becoming more and miserable by the minute. I couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N), she was always on my mind. When there was a mission, I would make myself forget her for a while and would focus on my job. But in times like this, when there was nothing to do in particular, I would stay in my room for hours and hours, and just wouldn’t think about anything else, but her.

It must have been about two decades or so that she left Volterra to “explore the world”, as she said. Time is pretty subjective when you’re supposed to live forever. Yet, I was mentally counting every moment she was away. I was taking mental notes of everything that was going around here, every prank Demetri and I would pull off to annoy either Jane or each other, every important event or mission we were sent to, so I could tell (Y/N) later. I smiled at the thought of her laughing along with me, and then my smile dropped when I realized she may never even come back.

Why would she? Living with the Volturi - with Aro - controlling her life, how she should have looked like, how she was expected to act in every different situation, and, on top of that, pushing her to her physical and mental limits to declare any gift besides strength, speed and tracking must have been exhausting for her. All these years.. All these years of emotional isolation must have affected her greatly.

Aro had never been the most affectionate person I’ve met. When the twins joined the Volturi, and then the Guard, he focused on them exclusively, training and mentoring them every day to develop their gifts. (Y/N) was pushed aside, a lost cause; she would never be the powerful vampire/weapon Aro hoped he acquired all these centuries ago.

He hoped that she would manage to declare a power similar to her mother - an exceptional mind-reader (and shield, as we found out centuries later) or even a new and unique power, given her father’s lineage. (Y/N) never expressed anything “unique” for Aro’s standards, but to me, she was just perfect. We were equally strong and fast - maybe she was even stronger and faster than me, and she was also an incredible tracker, like Demetri, though he could track anyone he has ever met, just by hearing their conscience.

And now, she is gone. She had left me. I caught myself quite a few times thinking what would our lives be like, had I told her how I felt - and still feel - about her. I am pretty sure that she was feeling the same, that she felt our bond, our connection. But, just like her, I never came forward; I was never true to myself, or her; I never told her that I would dedicate my immortal life to her if that meant that she would stay here with me.

And now, I pay for it. I've been drowning in misery and pain. Not physical pain, I could handle physical pain by now. Even Jane’s induced pain was nothing compared to the kind of pain I’ve been feeling ever since (Y/N) left. I felt as if I were a mortal and my heart was ripped out of my body and stepped on. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe, though I didn’t actually need to breathe.

Demetri must have heard my sharp gasps for air, as my door opened widely, a terrified Demetri standing under the framework. He stared at my unwell state, and rushed to me, hugging me tightly. I left a few sobs and felt tears that couldn’t come. Demetri did not say a word for a few minutes, stroking my hair with his left hand and holding me with his right one. I held onto him as if I was holding on for dear life.

My mind was just blurry and I couldn’t think straight. Was that what it felt like, being away from your mate? I missed her dearly. All these years, I never told anyone other than Demetri about (Y/N) possibly being my mate, although I think Marcus would probably know already.

As my sobs started coming to an end, I was able to finally take deep breaths, and focus my mind on a particular spot on the floor to calm myself. Demetri cupped my face with his hands, trying to calm me down by saying a few comforting words. To outsiders, this scene may have looked strange, if not weird, but Demetri and I, being best friends for almost one millennium, had that kind of intimacy, and we both liked how open we could be to each other.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them slowly, feeling a bit calmer than I did 10 minutes ago. I needed to feel each moment of my pain; I needed to feel again what it’s like being apart from the only person I ever loved; I needed to remember every moment I was close to her, and then wasn’t.

“Are you feeling better now?” Dem asked calmly, still holding my face. I nodded slightly, and he let his hands fall on his lap. “Were you thinking about (Y/N) again?” I nodded again. I nodded again.

He frequently caught me thinking absentmindedly, or even sobbing slightly, but never a full-on breakdown. He took my quite big hands in his smaller ones, patting them condescendingly. I didn’t want to be pitied by others, but Dem never made fun of me for hurting, never made me feel less of the “evil executioner” I was known to be.

“I don’t know what it feels like, being separated from your mate, so I won’t tell you how to feel or act about it. I just want you to know that you can come to me if you feel down. It pains me to see you hurting, though I understand that her very absence has affected you greatly. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. You may not see it, but Alec, even Jane, worries about you and want you to be happy. We will all do whatever it takes to see you happy again, even if that means running after (Y/N)..”

My head jolted. I asked him if he was serious. “I’m not lying or joking, Felix. If we have to go after her and bring her back to you, we’ll do it. You’re our friend and we’re your friends. That’s what friends do.”

I couldn’t believe it! There was a chance that (Y/N) was still out there, and my friends were willing to help me find her. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the Witch Twins felt like true friends to me, and as long as I had them and Demetri, I think I could do anything in this world.

Now, we just had to talk to the twins, and see what they thought of it. I don’t know if we were even allowed to drop off all the missions and duties we had here and go search for (Y/N). I know we had to take the kings’ permission before we could do anything, and I was worried and kind of terrified with the idea of them knowing (Y/N) and I were mates, and how badly in love I was with her.

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Demetri’s POV:

It was just another day in the Volterra castle. I was wandering around, having finished my duties for the day, probably for the week as well - it all depended on the Masters’ or the Twins’ mood for a “sudden, important mission” popping up in my schedule.

I wasn’t the type of person to spend their free time in the library, like the Twins, or in my room, like Felix. I vaguely remember my human life. My family was a typical middle-class Athenian family, and we were lucky enough to own a decent piece of land for cultivation. I would spend hours working on the fields, planning possible expansions and new techniques for richer crops.

I smiled slightly at the memory; that’s basically what I mostly remembered from my mortal life before Amun found me and turned me into what I am today. Before I traveled to Egypt to live with the Egyptian coven. Before Aro found me and converted me to his coven. I didn’t know how he managed to convert me then until I found out about Chelsea’s gift.

But even then, I never actually felt the need to leave the Volturi. I had a good life here; I had great friends; easy access to human blood, thanks to Heidi; I had it easy for the price I paid serving the three Volturi kings.

My train of thought was cut short when I heard quiet sobs. I wasn’t regarded as the best tracker for nothing; based on the volume of the sobs, the surrounding atmosphere, and the tone of the voice coming out, I could easily detect that it was Felix, sobbing in his room.

I run quickly, not caring about anyone walking through the corridors. I reached his door and opened it widely, not caring to wait for a response. I saw Felix sobbing on his bed, his eyes tearless but still desperate, trying to gasp for air, although we don’t really need to breathe. I rushed to his side, hugging him tightly, letting his sobs shake through my body.

I didn’t say a thing for some time, stroking his hair with one hand and holding him with my other, trying to find the right thing to say to calm him down. He held on to me for dear life, and I felt as if he was, once again, upset for (Y/N). His sobs started slowing down and he started taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Without thinking, I cupped his face, telling him a few comforting words, watching him close his eyes, and taking one deep breath.

“Are you feeling better now?” I asked him calmly, and I felt myself getting calmer as he nods slightly. I let my hands fall on my lap and asked him what I’ve been thinking about all this time. “Were you thinking about (Y/N) again?” Felix nodded, confirming my suspicions.

I caught him plenty of times not being himself - his cautious, meticulous, present self; the one who was always concentrated and focused on the present. He sobbed often these days, but never a full-on breakdown. This had me worried. I took his hands in mine and patted them, showing him that I understood what he was going through, although I, myself, never found my mate. I told him so, that I didn’t know what it was like for him to be away from his mate, but also that I would never disregard how and what he felt.

I just didn’t want him to hurt; I wanted him to know that I’ll always be there for him, whenever he needed me. And, though he may not actually believe it, Alec and Jane were also worried about him. He may have not noticed it, but I wasn’t the only one who saw that he was in pain.

Alec and Jane also saw that Felix was not his confident, straightforward self anymore, so I told them once what I suspected all along. That the absence of (Y/N) affected him way more than it affected Jane, who was (Y/N)’s best girlfriend, or even Heidi, Chelsea, and Corin, even Renata, who spent most of her time on Aro’s side, being his main bodyguard.

Without thinking clearly, I suggested that we could all go after (Y/N), find her, and bring her back to Felix. His head jolted, and looked at me in disbelief, not being sure if I was serious. I told him I was, and, at this moment, his whole demeanor changed. It was probably the first time after such a long time that I’ve seen him actually smiling, and my undead soul felt at peace at last. We now only had to inform the twins, and, probably, anyone else willing to help.

My only worry was the kings, especially Aro; he probably didn’t know about (Y/N) and Felix’s mate bond, and I don’t even know what he’ll think of it when he finds out. Now, I had other things to worry about; how to get the Twins to come with us and bring (Y/N) back to Volterra.

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“We’re in.” Jane declared decisively, Alec agreed along with a nod, standing close to his twin.

“Are you both sure about that? We don’t know if the kings will allow us to go find her. Heck, I don’t even know if I could track her. I could never track (Y/N)’s mind, like ever. We may be wandering in vain, searching for her in places she’s never been. It may take a lot of time if we ever find her.”

I wanted to be honest with them about the worst-case scenario, feeling Felix slightly squirm nearby. I turned around to face the giant. His face was a mix of pain and anger, his eyes a dark burgundy, almost black from not feeding the past few weeks. This reminded me to get him to hunt soon, whether we left Volterra or not. I turned back to the twins.

“Demetri. You know that (Y/N) is our friend, too. Alec and I would do anything to bring her back.” Jane then turned to Felix. “Whatever happens, we will all stand by your side.” Felix mumbled a small “thank you”, so quiet that only us four could barely hear, still looking down, at the floor.

“We have to go and tell them.” I announced, gulping my non-existent saliva. They all knew I was referring to the three kings, and we all knew the possibility of being denied to leave on this mission of ours.

“Let me handle this. You know they cannot deny me anything.” Jane stated and led the way towards the throne room, full of confidence and reassurance.

It was true after all that Jane and Alec, being the kings’ favourite guards, were not denied anything. (Y/N) enjoyed such privileges as well, being the continuation of Aro’s bloodline, possibly our future Queen, if the kings ever decided to step down from their royal duties.

Within a minute, Jane opened the doors to the throne room widely and stepped in, followed closely by Alec and Felix and I following nearby.

“Jane! Alec! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing my two favourite children?” Aro almost chirped at the sight of the twins, not even acknowledging Felix and I’s presence.

He has always been too nice to the twins, the Volturi’s most powerful offensive weapons. My gift and Felix’s raw strength are nothing compared to Jane’s ability to inflict mental pain, or Alec’s ability to deprive one or multiple people’s senses at will.

“Masters, the four of us request your permission to leave on a mission. We don’t know how long it will take us or when we’ll come back, but I assure you we’ll be back as soon as we’re done with it.” Jane informed the kings confidently, and Aro’s brows furrowed slightly.

“What kind of a mission, dear Jane? I don’t remember giving you all a mission recently.” Aro seemed curious, as he nodded towards Jane to come closer. Jane obeyed, stepping closer to Aro and extending her hand towards him, who gladly took it into his palms.

A few minutes passed by, with Aro looking nowhere in particular, while he studied Jane’s thoughts, until he came back, and let Jane’s hand slowly out of his own ones. Felix tensed beside me; we both knew now that Aro knows about the purpose of our mission, and that he may also know about (Y/N) and Felix’s bond, as he stared at him with an evil smirk. He turned towards Marcus.

“Is it true, brother?” He asked the melancholic vampire to his right. Marcus seemed unamused, which was quite typical of him.

“Yes. They’ve been mates for quite some time.” He dragged his words.

Aro turned back to us. “And yet, (Y/N) chose to leave Volterra, to “explore the world”, away from her mate. Seems that their bond is not as strong after all.”

Felix was becoming more and more furious beside me. I could sense his distaste towards our master, as Aro invalidated their bond, and probably, him being his granddaughter’s mate. Felix confessed to me multiple times that he didn’t feel worthy of being (Y/N)’s mate; that she deserved a lot more than just an average vampire guard.

That’s why he never confessed his true feelings towards her, only looking at her from afar, and hoping that one day, she would confess her feelings first, so they could be together forever. Neither of them ever confessed, and, with (Y/N) being gone for quite some time now, Felix seemed to have regretted not telling her. Maybe they could have been together now, and he wouldn’t have his heart broken over her absence.

Aro’s voice broke my train of thought. “You have my permission to go find my granddaughter, but, before you go, you’ll have to make a plan. I cannot risk my guards leaving Volterra for too long. You’ll have to decide who will come with you, and you’ll have to be back as soon as you find her. No procrastination. You have three days to plan and make your decisions. Now, go, and make sure you bring (Y/N) back!” Aro waved his hand, showing us our way out of the throne room.

We never thought we had to make a plan to find (Y/N); we didn’t expect Aro to let us leave on such a mission, where we wouldn’t know if we’d even find (Y/N). But he did, and now we had to make a plan. We knew that it would definitely be Felix, the twins, and me, but we didn’t know if anyone else wanted to join us.

Word spread fast because, within a few hours, most of the guards were already trying to help us decide on a plan, whether they could or could not join us on the actual mission. In the end, we decided it would be just the four of us, and we only had to make a plan as to where we would go to search for (Y/N).

We left within 3 days, going down to Sicily, traveling across the sea, to Malta, where we found Renata’s family. When we asked them about (Y/N), out of fear of Jane and Alec, her uncle told us she visited them once, about 20 years ago. “She kept saying how she planned to travel the world, Europe, Asia, America, Africa.. Wherever she could go.” Luca kept saying.

We left immediately after that. We decided to continue with our plan, first traveling across Europe. It wasn’t an easy task; most of the continent was at war with the Ottomans, and the rest was divided into smaller or bigger countries, nothing stable or permanent yet. We passed through North Europe, traveling towards the South, traveling across North Africa, ending up in Egypt.

I met with Amun, almost 700 years after I left him and Egypt for Aro and Italy. He was neither pleased nor surprised. He was rather cautious and guarded due to the Twins’ and Felix’s presence. He didn’t ask me why I left him, but he did invite us to stay in Egypt for some time. We told him we were in a hurry, we had to find (Y/N).

“So, it is true then? Aro’s granddaughter abandoned him at last..”. He grinned.

“What do you mean “at last”?” Felix became upset quite quickly.

“You never realized it before? When Chelsea, (Y/N) and yourself came with Aro and took Demetri with you, I saw it in (Y/N)’s eyes.” We were all confused. Amun continued.

“She looked miserable. She probably didn’t even want to be here, doing Aro’s bidding. She wasn’t made to serve him and his every wish. She indeed passed by a decade or two ago. She apologized for her part in Demetri’s departure, and she stayed with us for about a month or two. I welcomed her because I understood Aro destroyed her life, just as he destroyed ours.”

“What did she want in Egypt?” Felix was becoming more anxious by the minute.

Amun continued his narration. “She wanted to learn about Egypt, the Pyramids, the Pharaohs. She told me she read a lot about Ancient Egypt; how Alexander the Great colonized Egypt and many Greeks have been living here ever since; how the Great Pyramids were built. She just wanted to see all the history from up close. She wanted to experience everything. Who wouldn’t, right?” He grinned again, like the proud Egyptian he was, having seen all of Egypt’s glory through the past millennia.

It was Jane’s time to ask the questions. “So, she just visited? She didn’t say where she was going after she left?”

“She said she wanted to go and visit places. Though, she didn’t say where she would go. I would tell you if I knew.” Amun looked arrogant but cautious. He wouldn’t risk getting on Jane’s bad side, so he chose to tell the truth about (Y/N).

“We won’t be staying then. Let’s go.” Jane ordered and ran out of Amun’s palace, Alec following closely behind her.

Felix stayed behind, and I stopped in my tracks. “If you have her and you lied to us, I swear I will rip you apart with my own hands!” Felix pointed at Amun while threatening him.

Amun didn’t seem to be phased at all. “Believe me, I wouldn’t want to get on Aro’s bad side. I already lost someone important to me.” He looked straight at me, and then back to Felix. “But, if you want to find her, you may want to find Carlisle first. She admired him, for choosing to be more human than vampire. When he visited me last time, he did mention how (Y/N) was the only Volturi that didn’t really seem to actually belong in the Volturi. She was too kind for her own good.”

Felix's jaw clenched, and I grabbed him before he managed to attack Amun. I mumbled a “thank you” to Amun, and we ran to find the Twins. My tracking skills could sense Carlisle from a distance, so it wouldn’t be hard to find him. Finding (Y/N), though, was a totally different story.

------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N)’s POV:

I woke up with a throbbing headache in an unknown place. My eyes couldn’t focus on anything in particular around me. I could barely distinguish the wooden furniture around me, and the burning fire in the fireplace. My hand traversed through woolen fabrics of different textures. Was I in bed? Was I in a bedroom? As my senses started to go back to normal, I started hearing people talking, a woman and man talking..in Greek?

“Αλέξανδρε, η (Ο/Σ) γύρισε! Το κοριτσάκι μας γύρισε επιτέλους!” (“Alexander, (Y/N) is back! Our little girl is finally back!”)

“Το ξέρω, Στέλλα. Πρέπει να την προστατεύσουμε, να την κρατήσουμε κοντά μας. Δε γίνεται να γυρίσει πίσω στη Βολτέρρα.” (“I know, Stella. We have to protect her, to keep her close to us. She cannot go back to Volterra.”)

“Τι θα κάνουμε αν την ψάξει ο Άρο ή κάποιος άλλος από τη φρουρά; Το ξέρουμε και οι δυο ότι, όπου και να είναι, θα κινδυνεύει.” (“What are we going to do if Aro or someone else from the Guard is looking for her? We both know that, wherever she is, she will be in danger.”)

“Το μόνο που μπορούμε να κάνουμε είναι να φροντίσουμε να την προετοιμάσουμε κατάλληλα. Πρέπει να μάθει το πραγματικό μέγεθος της δύναμής της. Ένιωθα τη δύναμη που είναι συσσωρευμένη μέσα της. Μπορεί να κάνει πραγματικά σπουδαία πράγματα, αρκεί να μάθει να ελέγχει τον εαυτό της και τις δυνάμεις της.” (“The only thing we can do is to make sure she is prepared accordingly. She has to learn the true extent of her power. I felt the power built up inside her. She can do amazing things, as long as she learns to control herself and her powers.”)

I was confused. My parents.. I found my parents. I faintly remember when I met them in the woods. I looked down at my body. I did not wear my white gown anymore, the one which I had once cut below the knee, so I could run around freely. I was now wearing a red dress, the vest covered in gold details. The vest’s sleeves went down, just a few centimeters above my wrists. The dress was made of silk, and it felt nice against my skin; I was finally wearing new, clean clothes and it felt nice.

I jumped out of the bed, and the dress flew around me, falling gently just above my ankles. There was a tearing to the side, which I thought was a nice detail, so I could actually run. I ran at a vampire speed towards the door and out of the room. I saw my parents talking in the living room, in front of the fireplace where another fire was burning bright and warmed up the room.

“Για τι πράγμα μιλούσατε; Σας άκουγα. Γιατί να έρθουν για μένα; Τι πρέπει να μάθω;” (“What were you talking about? I heard you. Why would they come for me? What do I have to learn?”)

My mother cupped my face affectionately. “Ψυχούλα μου, το ξέρεις ότι ο Άρο θα σε αναζητήσει. Θα κάνουμε τα πάντα για να σε προστατέψουμε, αλλά πρέπει να μάθεις να πολεμάς για τον εαυτό σου. Ήρθε η ώρα να μάθεις για τις πραγματικές σου δυνατότητες. Ο μπαμπάς σου θα σου μάθει ό,τι χρειάζεται να μάθεις για να εξασκήσεις τη μαγεία σου.” (“My little soul, you know that Aro will look for you. We’ll do everything to protect you, but you’ll have to learn to fight for yourself. It’s time to learn about your true capabilities. Your dad will teach you whatever you need to know to practice your magic.”)

“Now, follow us, (Y/N). I will teach you everything I know.” Dad took one of my hands in his and mom took my other hand in hers, and they led me outside, to the garden.

------------------------------------------------------

In the months that followed, I learned how to defend myself using my powers; how to cast spells; how to attack; I even learned how to use dark magic. And as time passed and I perfected my magic, the more magic and energy I could pump out of me, and the more I felt drawn to dark magic. It gave me an unexplainable power; a confidence that I could define my own life; a confidence that I could free myself from Aro.

My only concerns were my friends and Felix; though I was quite powerful by now, the only thing that kept me behind, trapped between what I have to do for myself and what I have to do for others, was the thought of Felix. I have already lost so much time being away from him, and sometimes, that was translated to physical pain, which I didn’t know could happen between mates. I assumed that it was the same for him as well, and I didn’t want him to be in pain.

Unlike the other vampires, I could cry, heck, I would cry for hours and hours. And that pain, that emptiness, would eventually feed the darkness in me. I couldn’t see it at first, but I started having darker, evil thoughts. I stopped feeding off of animals and started killing people. I killed people for their blood, or for fun - either way, I would still consume their blood. I was feeding my thirst and my darkness, becoming insensitive and slowly mad for revenge.

My parents wouldn’t say anything; I knew that it was part of their plan to get revenge on Aro. Unbeknownst to my mom, I also managed to copy her mind-reading, and having already copied Aro’s power, I could manage to know everything both of my parents have ever thought about. My magic penetrated her shield quite easily, and I managed to learn everything I needed to know about their plan, their lives, their abilities, and magic.

I was now way more powerful than them. I didn’t need them; they needed me - they needed me to take over Volterra. It all started as a need to take over territory and become powerful; powerful enough that they could challenge the Volturi and cease their powers, possibly manage to take me and any other powerful guard they found under their rule.

However, me finding them made their plan way easier - they knew that they could persuade me to do their bidding and join them. I was their daughter after all; we were family, and, although they didn’t raise me, they knew that I would much rather stay with them than Aro, given his past.

I didn’t oppose their plan; I wasn’t fond of it, but I didn’t mind. It could be a way to be finally recognized and appreciated. I could finally become the princess, officially, and I could take my friends and Felix away from Aro. We would be together; we wouldn’t be scared of what Aro may think of us; we would be finally free.

These thoughts pushed me day after day to push myself and my limits more. I had to become as powerful as I could ever be. The darkness was consuming my soul and I was welcoming it; I wanted to be in power; I wanted to be in control. I visualized the darkness surrounding me and consuming me; a black smoke swinging out of my body, surrounding me, and swirling around me. I could feel my eyes stink and I smelled the blood that was now oozing out of them. I felt my insides twist and turn, and I screamed in pain; my feet not being able to support my body anymore, as I fell down on my knees.

I felt the darkness “painting” my soul and turning it into a long abyss. I felt my humanity being stripped away from me, like a hand reaching out and ripping my heart out of my body and slowly crashing it. And then, it all stopped. I raised my head and looked at the world around me in a different light. The world was darker, meaner; everyone was my enemy. I would not let anyone subjugate me again; I would not be a victim anymore. I would take my revenge on the Volturi, I would make them pay.

#felix volturi #felix volturi imagine #felix volturi x reader #volturi #twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight post #demetri volturi #alec volturi #jane volturi #the cullens #the denali coven

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merci-bitch · 4 years ago

Text

My Sweet Little One part II

Rose The Hat x fem!reader

Warning(s): swearing, slight abuse, PDA?

Words: 2,5k

A/N: It has been quite a while. Hasn’t it? Haha. Well there might be a part 3 to this. It’s not as long as the first part which is 8k, and I have no idea how to make links so sadly I can’t link it here. ;/ . Hopefully there will more stories coming soon!

I made Y/N mine, alright. And everyone knew it, for sure. The next night she laid in my bed, I made her scream my name until her vocal chords were raw and made sweat crack across her place physiognomy.

No one could have her body the way I do, specially that loathsome rube. But he doesn't matter now.' I told myself. Though I wanted to make him pay. Rip his heart out and eat it on a silver platter after making him after making him suffer. Who the hell does he think he is? Laying his hands on my Y/n. They might both be steamy but he should see me. Oh yes, I am a cathedral compared to his small amount of steam.

"Rosie?" Y/n's voice pulled me out of my self induced trance. "Yes love?" I hummed. "You were zoning off again. Is something the matter?" I loved hearing the sweetness in her voice. It was like music to my ears.

"No darling, I'm quite alright." I smiled and placed my lips against hers and gave her a soft kiss. 'If only she knew though.' I thought to myself but shoved that aside for the moment. I could feel her soft hands gently caressing my bare skin and moved closer to her. Normally I preferred being the big spoon but on this moment, I didn't quite mind. She was home now and has been for quite a few weeks but still, I missed her.

"You're sure?" I nodded and ran my hands through Y/n's hair. "You're so pretty. You know that right?" She nodded and I smirked. "There is no one quite like you." Y/n's cheeks flushed cherry red and I chuckled. "No shame, darling. I only speak the truth."

"I know." She gave me a small smile that made me swell up inside. "Have you thought about my offer?" Y/n let out a sigh and I sat up. "I have but-"

"But what?" I tried my hardest not to sound angry. "When you stabbed me before, you told me it was for steam?" I nodded cordially. "Is that...what you guys eat?"

"Does it matter?" I expected to have her argue with me a little bit but surprisingly she didn't. Which I was thankful for. I took Y/n's hands gently in my own and kissed them. "Look, I know it's hard for you to wrap your head around but their pain is our gain. Don't you want to have a life with me? Unconditional bliss?"

She looked down as she slowly sat up and started fumbling with her hands. I wanted to say things, but I didn't want her to run away again. I didn't want to lose her again. She was mine, and only mine.

—— You don't know what it's like, not knowing who you are. To have lived in the shadows and to have travelled this far. Now I've seen a flashes of fire and echos of screams. But I still have faith, faith that someday my memories will come back.

In my dreams, it's all real. And my heart has so much to reveal. And my dreams seems to say, 'don't be afraid to go on, don't give up hope, come what may.' I know it will all come back! One day!

In my dreams shadows call. There's a light at the end a hall. Then my dreams fade away, but I know it will all come back one day. I just remember, rain against the windows. Sheets upon a bed. Terrifying nurses whispering overhead.

It was all strange. Rose, everyone. They say I was found on the side of the road. It had recently rained. In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees. A girl with no name, and no memories but these above. I don't know a thing before that. Traveling the back roads, sleeping in the wood. I was always taking what I needed, working when I could. Keeping up my courage, foolish as it seems.

In my dreams I've always dreamed of a city. I dream of a city beyond all compare. Is it Paris? Paris... A beautiful river, a bridge by a scare and I hear a simple voice whisper, 'I'll meet you right there in Paris.' Paris.

Dancing bears, painted wings. Things I almost remember, and a song someone sings. It's almost December. Once upon a December. Someone holds me safe and warm. Horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully and across my memory.

Far away, long ago. Glowing dim as an ember and things my heart used to know and things it yearns to remember. And a song someone used to sing.

Heart don't fail me now and courage don't desert me. Don't turn back now that we're here. People have always said, life is full of choices and they aren't wrong but they never mentioned fear. Or how the world can seem so vast. On a simple journey to the past.

Somewhere down this road. I know someone true is waiting. Years of dreams just can't be wrong! Someone's arms will open wide and I'll be safe and wanted. Finally a place where I belong. Well, starting now I'm learning fast! On my journey to my past.

Home, love and family. There has to be a time where I had them too. I wouldn't be complete until I find you. But always one step at a time. One hope, then another. Who knows where this road may go? I wanna go back to who I was. On to find my future. There are things my heart still needs to know. Yes! Let this be some kind of sign and let this road be mine. Let it lead me to my past, and bring me home. At last!

—

"So, when the fuck was you gonna tell me."

"Hm? Tell you what my dear."

"Cut the sweet act Rose."

"What's wrong with you? Did they tease you again? You want tea?"

"Oh fuck you."

"Watch it."

"Watch it?! You have some fucking nerve Rose."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. The fuck did you think was gonna happen?"

"Seriously, what do you mean Y/N."

"Did you think I was gonna forget your words? Think I was gonna forget how useless and worthless you called me?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Shut it. I know exactly what you said, I'm not stupid or will I ever fall for some cover up you're calling this. I was happy without you!"

"You would never survive without me!"

"I did perfectly well for 10 fucking years Rose!"

"You call that happy?! With that Danny? You call that happy Y/N?"

"He loved me! He took care of me! More then you'd ever done, he took me for what I was. He picked up the pieces you broke."

"You better watch it. I don't mind killing you myself."

"See, this is exactly where you and I are different. I spend years not fitting in but thinking it was fine. Cause you were 'there' and cuddled me. Did you ever really love me? Cause you're blaming me for everything here, when it actually was you who fucked it up."

"I fucked it up?! You were the one who was so fucking ungrateful!"

"Ungrateful?! I have a fucking soul!"

"No, you don't! Cause you fucking sold it to the devil. You're not human. We turned you Y/N!"

"Excuse me what?"

"What?"

"No, don't change subject. What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Did you fucking turn me without me saying you could?! Rose what the fuck!"

"What, you're mine. Just had to claim you. You'll be fine."

"Fine?! I don't wanna feed of dead kids Rosie!"

"They're actually quite delicious."

"You're fucking sick."

"Didn't stop you from fucking me."

"I didn't really have a choice."

"I didn't fucking rape you."

"Nah, it felt like it."

"You screamed my name out of pleasure."

"How come you were so sure of that?"

"I saw it, I saw your mind."

"What if that was just for play?"

"Oh, fuck you."

"I'd kill you if you tried."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'd like to see you try."

"Come at me."

"You can't be serious."

"Come kill me Rose."

"No."

"Coward."

"You're a bitch. A fucking bitch."

"Yet you put up with me for years. Took me back in when I was vulnerable. Loved me, well. Kind of. You held me close to you. Favorited me. So technically, I was your bitch."

"Exactly. You're my bitch."

"I was, not anymore."

"You'll always be my bitch. You're so weak for me, nothing will change that."

"Rose-"

"Begging already? Hm. Get on your knees."

"What?"

"Now!"

"Never."

"Get on your fucking knees before I make you."

"Make me then."

"You're playing with fire Y/N. I fucking hate you."

"Yeah, yeah. We've all heard that. How about something new?"

Before I knew it, her hand was wrapped around my throat. Holding me up in the air. Not a single piece of happiness or softness in her eyes. It was just dark. Her whole face was filled with anger. The veins in her throat showed as she strained. Her jaw clenched. Her hand squeezing harder around my throat. More and more air was ripped from my throat.

"You'll learn your fucking place. You disgraceful little piece of shit."

Her fingernails started to dig into the skin of my neck and my vision started to blacken out. Clawing at her hand. Choking on whatever air that was left in my lungs.

"R-Rosie-"

"Hm? Can't really hear you, my dear."

Her hand tightened even more and I felt my limbs go lump. Everything going dark.

"I don't know Abra. She's been gone for so long. She was missing when I came back from the bathroom at the cinema. You haven't seen anything?"

"No, I've been trying. It's like Rose is cutting her off from us."

"I just hope she's alright. She doesn't deserve all this."

"I know, but we'll find her."

—

"Sweetheart? Hey, wake up."

I felt someone slap my cheek. Groaning in pain, moving my head away. Slowly opening my eyes.

"Rose?"

"Yes, I'm right here."

"What happened?"

"My dear child, you passed out. You had a nightmare from sleeping and got up and started crying. Then you just dropped."

"Really? I don't remember."

"Oh, don't worry. I've got you."

Rose put her arms around me and pulled the covers over us, giving my forehead a kiss. I couldn't put my thought to it. Was that really what happened? I shook my head and snuggles close to Rose. Breathing in her scent. Relaxing. Smiling softly and looking up at her.

"What? What are you smiling about."

"Nothing."

"Come on, I can see there's something."

"I just -"

"Yes?"

"I love you, Rosie."

"I love you too Y/N."

—

"Rose? Is this really how it has to go?"

"Yes, my dear. Now come on. Stab her."

"I-I don't know, it's just a child."

"What have I told you before?"

"I-, their pain, our gain."

"That's it. Now come, feed your family."

Rose's hands were on my waist, her nose brushing against the back of my neck. I slowly raised the knife in the air. Feeling a sort of deja vu. Had I done this before? I couldn't have. Despite the child's cries, pleas and begging Rose was right. Their pain was our gain. I had to do this to feed the family. The true knot was my family.

Muttering a soft 'sorry' before stabbing the child. Stabbing it over and over again. Hearing both Rose's and Crow's laughter behind me. I felt angry for some reason, the child in front of me was the beat for my anger. The piece to take out all the unknown anger. Again and again. Until there was nothing left. Dropping the knife, shaking.

"You did so great, look at all that steam! Well last for weeks! If not even months. Good girl."

Rose gave me a wet kiss and stroked my cheek.

"Rosie?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Have I done this before?"

"What? Stabbing a child?"

"Yeah, I got like a deja vu."

"Well, haven't we all wished to kill children?"

Her carefree laughter filled the air. It didn't make any sense, but it had to.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Don't be so sad now, poppet. You did well."

"It just feels weird. I was a child too once."

"We all were. But now we are adults, we are the true knot. We live as more powerful then pathetic rubes. You said so yourself."

"I did?"

"Right you did."

"Oh, I can't remember much."

Rose stroked my cheek again and pulled me against her. Rubbing my back and watched the moonlight with me. It was silent. Was it nice? Was it confusing? Was it awkward?

"I just, this doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I've been walking, but with my face turned to the sun. This weight on my shoulders. And I feel as if I need to run. I do what I can to please you and the others, I just feel like an outsider."

"This is your home, can't you hear freedom calling? Calling you to stay. Don't you feel it in your bones? You belong here."

"In the morning before the sun starts shining, we gotta start moving again, can I drive with you?"

"Always."

—

"So I'm gonna stand up, and take my people with me. Together we are going to our brand new home. Far across the river. Do you hear freedom calling? Calling you to answer their prayer."

"That's what you got?"

"Yes, it was all I could find out."

"It's not really helpful."

"I know, I don't know what's going on. Before it was so easy to track her."

—

"I go to prepare a place for you."

Rose watched you sleep. She knew it wouldn't be long until your memories would come back. Her and Crow had been talking about what to do with you. She didn't want to kill you. She did love you, but if she had to she would kill you. You were steamy but she didn't know if it was that good. She had only tasted it once, but it was only little bit.

It had tasted like flowers. For some reason each time Rose would think about it. She would feel this, this heavy feeling in her chest. She didn't know what it was. It couldn't be guilt, could it? No. Of course not. Rose The Hat never had guilt. She was a strong a confident woman. Powerful. The queen bitch of castle hell.

Rose O'Hara knew guilt, knee pain and specially weakness. Rose The Hat could never dream of getting on her knees for anyone.

If she had to kill the one thing she loved. She fucking would.

#rose the hat x reader #dan torrance x reader #doctor sleep

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years ago

Text

The Conference (Part 9)

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 3.7k Rating: T+ Warning: Some cursing Summary: It’s the evening after the keynote and they go out for a civil dinner date.

A/N: shout out to ruby @starrystarrytrouble for reminding me people actually like reading this mess 💕

________________________________________

After we finished up the panel I stuck around the conference hall to network whilst Ethan had ditched the crowd at the first opportunity he got, heading back to our hotel room and venturing away from the pecking vultures. To be honest, I didn’t really blame him. Everyone wanted a piece of the poor, well-endowed man.

A couple hours later, I shuffled back into our apartment. My aching feet somehow prevailed without causing me to collapse on the odd geometric carpet floor, or ditching my heels along the way and walking barefoot like some uncultured frosh stumbling home at 3AM. Once through the heavy metal plated door, I headed straight to my room, not throwing a single pleasantry towards Ethan in the seating area. From what I could tell he was typing furiously on his laptop after nursing a scotch - the empty crystal tumbler on the table was a dead giveaway.

The anxiety and delirium inducing stress of the day lifted the second my kinda-sweaty body collapsed onto the private armchair in my room, clutching its aqua-colored arms and sinking into the velvet cushion. Staring out at the familiar skyline my mind started to replay the happenings of the day; every little thing that happened - from the confidence I felt during our speech, to the way that asshole called me out, and how Ethan stood up for me every step of the way. How proud he was even if he relayed the sentiment in such small words.

We survived today. We haven’t strangled each other nor suffered any little deaths. All that’s left for this trip is the tour we have tomorrow morning, and then we’ll be on our way back to Edenbrook. Back to the way things were…

Somehow my tired and self destructive brain decided it wanted to revel in the memories of the last few days. Thinking about all the non-work things that happened this trip. Thinking of all the words shared, and the blast from the past. And the revelation that little adventure birthed.

Fuck me...

Things are weird. Like, so weird. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m even thinking this… but I miss him. Today showed me how great we are together! Professionally and as friends. We’re the dynamic duo: Ramsey and his Rookie. His. I -

I need to stop thinking that.

I belong to myself. I do what I want when I want and with whom I want.

And so does he. And that’s why I walked away. I’m-

I’m still getting over him.

While simultaneously trying to get under him…

Thoughts wandered back to Ryan and how long it took me to get over the detrimental ‘what if’s of him. If I held on tighter and longer and didn’t get in the way of myself back then - if one thing was different - everything could be different.

A small, revelatory gasp escaped me.

I didn’t want things to be different.

After eight fucking years I finally understood.

If I didn’t love and lose Ryan I never would have found my way to Boston. To Ethan. And here - knowing what I do and having all the experiences of the last few months - I couldn’t continue a life without knowing Ethan Ramsey.

I’m going to do whatever I can to repair our friendship.

I changed my clothes into something not requiring heels - black skinny jeans, a blouse and my trusty Chelsea boots - and my hair pulled back into a bun. Simple, sleek, and completely me. No pomp and circumstance, or hiding behind anything. Just me, making an effort.

With all the determination I could muster I sauntered into the living room where I assumed Ethan would still be.

I was right; he hadn’t changed positions at all. Sitting there on the couch, his feet up on the gaudy footstool with his laptop perched on his lap, tortoise-patterned glasses framing his face, and furiously typing on the keyboard.

“So...” I trailed awkwardly to break the tension surrounding him, leaning against the wall with my hands stuffed in my armpits. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Oh,” He planted his feet on the floor and turned to face me fully, moving his laptop off of him and folding his arms in his lap. “Uh, well-”

Quickly I added, “If you’d rather eat alone it’s fine by me. I was thinking of grabbing pizza at John’s.”

Ethan nodded in response, saying, “Sounds good.”

“Cool,” I nodded back. “You ready or…?”

“Let me grab my things,” he stood, collected his things and headed to his room.

Less than two minutes later we headed out of the apartment together, walking side by side. Though this time wasn’t like earlier. There wasn’t the blind determination and need to impress like this morning. Right now we were two people who used to know one another going out to dinner in a spectacular converted synagogue.

***

For anyone who doesn’t know John’s, it’s a local family-style pizza joint. There’s three restaurants around the city and the Times Square location is by far the best. Every time I have a hot minute to spare I try to go - the stained glass and craftsmanship of the building is everything! But you don’t want to hear about that… and neither did Ethan when I tried to fill the silence during our walk with all the reasons to love this place. For some reason he preferred to barge and weave in silence.

Whatever.

Lucky enough he was more chatty once we were seated.

Our table was in the mezzanine with not much of a view besides the stone staircase in the corner and the large dome towering above. The dim lighting complimented the deep wooden table and beige upholstered seating.

We ordered. And without the menu to keep our attention, I tried my hand at conversation once more.

“Be honest, how did we do?”

Looking me in the eyes, ones that mirrored mine, showed such confidence and pride as he said his next words;

“You handled it well, Becca.” There was a tug at the corners of his mouth that pulled at my own. I was about to get a rare Ramsey smile - one I’ve been devoid of for far too long.

“Dare I even say, like a natural.”

I got to revel in the small compliment for a few moments as the server brought over our food - garlic knots, small veggie pizza, and a chef’s side salad.

“I didn’t stutter too much or come off too young?” I couldn’t help but ask when it was just us two again. His opinion matters more than anyone else’s when it comes to my career.

“You did.”

“But you -”

He cut me off, a slight shake of his big head, “You are young and this was your first keynote.” he clarified. And once more he said pridefully, “You did well.”

After what felt like ages we shared a private smile. How he was able to bring me back into myself with a few words and stop fussing over imposter syndrome is a wonder.

“Now eat some pizza and be happy.”

My smile grew to a goofy one by the way he was looking at me, bemused. I refrained from sticking my tongue out and dug into a little slice of heaven. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

We dug in. Letting the flavors dance over my taste buds and make me only as happy as a New York slice could make me. No amount of fantastic sex could compare to pizza. Everything kind of disappeared - time stopped while the first bites settled in my tummy. Even Ethan looked to be enjoying it even though it’s not fancy smancy and artery clogging.

Eventually I broke our companioned silence;

“How was lunch with Chief Fredericks?” I asked as I reached for a scrumptious ball of garlicy dough.

The response left his lips so swiftly he didn’t even bother to look up from his plate;

“Informative.”

I scoffed at the non-answer answer.

My little grumble pulled him out of his bubble and he looked over at me - those damn baby blues challenging my thoughtfully indecent outburst. I just gave him a look right back.

Ethan rolled his eyes and reached for another slice. Cutting it up with a fork and knife like an absolute weirdo.

“He heard about the state budget cuts. Wanted to know what I think and if I’d be open to consult every so often.”

“And?” I probed.

“And what? You know how I feel about the future of Edenbrook.”

“Yes. But if it goes under, what do you think you’ll do? I mean, everyone’s going to be throwing themselves at you.”

I shoved some greenery in my gob to keep from adding the jarring truth.

Everyone throws themselves at you.

But who he gives his attention to is another story.

Ethan shrugged ever so nonchalantly, “I haven’t thought about it.”

The cavalier way he was speaking of his life after Edenbrook had thrown me off. Ethan was never this laid-back. It just wasn’t in his nature. There’s always something for this man to stress over. And Edenbrook’s closing should be his anxiety numero uno.

But here he was, ever so calm.

Hmm...

“Are you in denial?” I said through a bite, fully anticipating another non-answer.

“Maybe.”

The way he said it took me aback. It was inherently honest and soft. All of his jagged features were rounded and there was a dulled little twinkle in his eye.

Yeah, something’s going on here he’s not telling me.

“Ethan -”

And of course he deflects by turning the conversation on me; “What are you going to do?”

Keeping from rolling my eyes at his obvious deflection from roaming into his feelings deeper, I replied, “Transfer my residency.”

“Where?”

“I…” - dammit - “don’t know.”

I haven’t really dwelled on what happens when the hospital closes. Obviously I need to finish residency if I want to be an actual practicing doctor. But the matching process can go screw itself. I don’t never ever want to do that again - all I cared about was matching with the best. And I did. So who’s the second best now?

Is it wherever he goes?

There’s just so much to think about, and I’d really rather not. Not until the last few nails are lined up against the coffin.

“See,” he said with a hint of a lopsided grin, “Neither of us are ready to leave Edenbrook behind.”

He was right. Of course he’s right. You didn’t need to be a diagnostician or even a doctor to see that we’re holding out hope of a buyout.

I’ve just gotten to Edenbrook - only a few months into my dream career with my dream boss - and now, what? It’s all over before it even really began? No. I can’t accept that.

There was a beat of silence as we both reached for the salad tongs, our hands brushing on accident. Both our eyes shot to bear witness to the contact, pulling us out of whatever ran wild through our thoughts and into this new, secluded moment. Everything around us dulled in the distance; the sounds swirling in the air muted and like a faint breeze. The warm lighting dimmed further, yet there was a spotlight on the salad bowl. The greens and reds and purples of the ruffage illuminated like it was the only thing that mattered. Like right now the earth was spinning just for this moment of closeness.

Surprisingly, neither of us made a motion to move. His large hand overlapping my dainty fingers, the metal underneath the pads of my fingers warming up instantly. Electricity still coursed through me like the very first time. Except now it carried the memories of all the other times and places he set me aflame.

I had to be the one to pull back.

Almost, like it needed time to comprehend why the moment was intentionally ruined, the atmosphere around us began to revert back slightly. I could hear the idle chatter of those around us now. I could see the full picture of Ethan sitting across from me and all the individuals pattering around behind him. What couldn’t pretend to go back and hung off kilter was the beating in my chest - I could feel the electricity coursing through my veins and putting my heart through the ringer.

Ethan made up for it by serving me.

Does he know he still has such an effect on me?

Quick! I needed to divert my thoughts off of the creeping flush and want from taking hold. So I went back to talking about work, our safe topic.

“If you could work anywhere else in the world where would it be?” I asked.

Ethan took a moment to think as he served himself some salad. He looked like he was actually thinking of an answer, maybe, for the first time he’s digested the hospital’s fate.

“I think the next logical step would be the Mayo Clinic. They’re the best diagnostics in the world.” His eyes diverted back down to his plate and, after a beat, he added, “I also wouldn’t mind spending more time on missions with The WHO.”

My eyes searched his as they looked anywhere but where I was seated across from him, trying to find any sort of fault in his features. Something, anything, that I could hold onto. Nothing. Just stupid sincerity. The first fucking time in weeks he actually lets us talk about his time in the Amazon I can’t be mad at him.

“You really enjoyed your time there, huh?”

“It…” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

We’ve wandered into emotional territory and we both needed to tread carefully. I need to remember that he was never mine, as much as I felt like his from our first kiss. Need to recall that back then everything was drawn out in plain sight. Our end was always just that - an end. I Need to forgive. And try to remember that at one point he did try to fight for me, in his round-a-bout noncommittal way, and I was the one to end things officially.

We both need to forgive. Especially if these are the last few months we have working together.

“Was important work and I got to make a difference in the lives of thousands of indigenous people.” Ethan took another small pause for breath. When he continued, his deep baritone voice was lower, “Even if my intentions for going were skewed, it was an opportunity of a lifetime.”

The simplest thing to do would be to nod, or eat - distract myself - or even change the subject. To try not to dwell on the implications of the statement. But I couldn’t. My body tensed and the warmth from moments before fled completely.

We were silent. The brutal truth of why he left stinging just as much as it did the day I found out.

Minutes, many many minutes passed with me finding solace in sweet savory carbs and Ethan pushing things around on his plate.

Eager to change the subject there was one other topic of the day I was endlessly curious to know more about;

“So, what’s the deal with Dr. Schwab?”

“Don’t.” He dismissed, his authoritative voice seeping through just a tad. Though I’d like to think he’s smart enough not to use it with me outside of Edenbrook.

“If you don’t tell me I’ll be forced to fabricate my own. I’m feeling a one-night stand gone wrong.”

He looked back down at his food.

“Oh my god, I’m right.” The smile that erupted literally took over my entire face. I could not hide it even if I tried.

“Rebecca,” he tried to scold.

“Now you have to tell me.”

Just like earlier he turned the conversation back on me; “What’s with the frat boy?”

“Ryan was never in a fraternity,” I responded, not hiding the grin that formed by putting Ethan in his place. “He’s a jock though.”

He expelled a dry laugh, “I don’t think that’s any better.” He took a bite of his salad. Something radiated off of Ethan I couldn’t quite place.

“We were close in high school,” I added for reasons I’m not quite sure why. Like that explained who Ryan was and why he came back into my life now, of all times.

Ethan made a condescending, “mhm”.

I rolled my eyes; “We had a thing for a while, okay.” I conceded. “We grew apart senior year, and then I went off to college. Last night was the first time we’ve spoken in, like, eight years.”

Ethan made absolutely no reactions to the statement. Not even a stupid wiggle of his dumb perfect eyebrow.

Is he even paying attention?

“Now tell me about Schwab - sorry, Hilary,” I coaxed.

Ethan’s hand flew to the bridge of his nose and up to carefully rub his eyes.

This has gotta be good.

I waited patiently and eagerly for this story. She couldn’t have been Ethan’s type and yet… What happened!?

Eyes still shut tight, he grumbled, “What’s there to tell?”

“Obviously something happened,” I couldn’t help but mock, “You slept together!”

“Yes, and it’s something I do not like to dwell on.”

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like she does.”

He groaned. Then shifted in his chair. Ethan took a long drag of his drink. And just when I figured he was going to wait this out until one of us changed the subject, he spoke;

“A moment of weakness a few years back. And she was…”

Ah! It’s actually happening! Ethan’s telling a salacious story!

Shifting in my seat and placing my head in my hands to give him my full attention; My brows and smile grew as I finished the sentence for him, “Eager?”

He scowled.

“Jesus Christ, Ethan, just tell me what happened!”

“I will not go into details.”

“Fine.” I made a motion with my hand for him to continue without the juicy details.

“Harper and I had just ended things for good not long before…”

We ended up going back and forth for a while - Ethan not wanting to give anything up and me pulling as much as I could out of him. Long story short, Ethan was in a weird mental state after breaking up with Harper for the hundredth and final time in their six year relationship. He took up a conference opportunity to get away for two nights. Knowing how much he loves people, Ethan spent most of his time drowning his senses at the hotel bar. And low and behold, enter Hillary.

From the sounds of it she was agreeable and very very forward. And Ethan was so lost in liquor that her voice didn’t irritate him as much as it did the next morning, and every single time they were in close proximity thereafter. Hillary had been going through a separation with her husband and needed a distraction just as bad. Really, who could blame her? Toting Ethan around would be the best revenge.

The first night of his stay was fine - apparently the sex was satisfactory and she didn’t do anything remarkably memorable. Or so he says. I still think she looks like a squawker. He didn’t linger around long after before retreating to his hotel room. Then the next afternoon he was bored and weak and agreed to lunch. And lunch turned into drinks which turned into round two. In his room. And she didn’t leave. She wasn’t leaving. So Ethan bought an earlier plane ticket, and shook her awake before checking out.

And every conference since she seems to want to entertain a rematch.

“Oh my god, you’re horrible!” I exclaimed ever delightfully. This was hilarious!

“I shouldn’t really be surprised. You flew to another continent after we slept together.” Shaking my head, a stupid little smirk on my lips I asked, “Have you ever had a one night stand before?”

“Wha - of course I have!”

“One’s that didn’t end up with you getting on a plane?”

He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “If you must know, I’ve had my fair share in undergrad.”

Now it was my turn to send a condescending “mhm” his way.

We spoke longer and polished off our plates - not a single crumb remained. This was nice. Really nice getting to be close to him again and just being friends. Telling stories and exchanging playful jabs here and there. It’s how I fell for the idiot in the first place.

Baby steps.

Two hours after we arrived the server came over with the bill.

She was friendly and lovely the whole meal. The best part about her style of service is that she let us just exist and didn’t check up all that often. When she did I could tell she overheard someone of the crap Ethan and I were spewing. She had one of those knowing smiles, like she was in on our jokes the entire time.

“Can I just say, you guys are adorable,” she relayed with the brightest of smiles after setting the padfolio on the table, her hands clapping together excitedly. She looked like a child who had just met Santa Claus for the first time.

L O L she thinks we’re together.

At that I actually laughed out loud before informing, “We’re colleagues. In town for a conference.”

The horror on the girl's face said it all.

“Oh! My mistake, sorry. I can split the bill for you.” She reached for the pad where it sat in front of Ethan.

He grabbed the black leather at the same time I spoke;

"Nope, dinner’s on him.” I cupped a hand over my mouth and pointed a not-at-all discreet thumb towards him, “He'll get reimbursed," I laughed more to myself than anything.

She smiles, a little relieved by my warmth, then turns to look at Ethan - silently asking permission or if it’s okay that he pays. Generally looking for some sort of direction from the old man.

He shoots the server a look. Then forks over his credit card.

As she saunters off, I smile at him sweetly, “Thank you.”

Of course he rolls his eyes. But that rise in the corners of his mouth says so much more.

________________________________________

A/N: sorry it’s shit. thank you for sticking with this series 💕 we’ve just got one chapter left!

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rpbetter · 3 years ago

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I'm so tired of roleplaying with people who don't put half the commitment I do into our threads and muses. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm a weirdo or like I don't belong for that. Any other hobby and people wouldn't care if I took it seriously. Why is roleplaying different? How can I keep going like this if I'm getting rudeness from all sides? I can't even go outside my already tiny bubble and find more partners, because I always see people putting roleplayers like me down and it's exhausting.

"Why is roleplaying different?"

Well, Anon, I know that was a rhetorical question, but I have some thoughts on that. To the surprise of no one!

I strongly believe that this is an issue with how fandom has come to dominate roleplaying. As I've said before, it really wasn't always like that. Of course, you always had canon characters and almost all RPers were invested in a fandom or two. The difference was that online RP was once viewed much more like tabletop RPGs are.

When the RPC became a near-total offshoot of Fandom, a lot of shit changed and very rapidly...and within Fandom, a lot of shit was changing very rapidly as well at that time.

RP has always been something looked down on (though, at least no one ever accused written RP online of being literally demonic like they did DnD, or made correlations to murder sprees like they did LARPing, so there's that) as strange, not the good, understandable sort of dorky.

Part of that is almost certainly because of the difference in the way society views writing vs the way it views hobbies like gaming - writing is seen as an intellectual pursuit and a job, gaming, even at its most negative points of view in wider society, has been seen traditionally as a downtime activity only.

But. RP was not looked down upon from within Fandom or in roleplay communities themselves like it is now.

When the whole experience of fandoms themselves became extremely mainstream and open, it welcomed in a ton of shit ideas and behaviors that were not previously prevalent. It changed RP, too, along many of those same lines.

When your hobby is considered objectionably weird by people within the fandoms you love and RP in and that makes you a sort of lowest-tier fan, the viewpoint of RP to RPers becomes something lesser than a valid hobby. When RPers are the same people who engage with Fandom monetarily, anything not monetized is passively consumable content, including RP. And RPers are trying to both deflect shame and struggling with wider society's mixed messages, that now hit them everywhere online as well. Shit like, "you don't have to monetize your hobby, it's okay to just make really good cross stitches of memes for yourself" and "if you're not paying me, you have no control over me."

We seriously do not view RP as a proper hobby anymore, that's why. There are many factors to that, those are just few, but that's the ultimate answer. It's not seen that way because it's not valued in the same way.

I think much of the problem with muns losing their entire shit over anyone else approaching the hobby differently, dare I say...more seriously, is related to a lot of complex psychology about self-esteem, control, and anxiety. So many people here struggle with serious self-worth and confidence issues, and I think to many of them, whether they realize it or not, when they see serious RPers, they feel like that's an inherent judgment and a danger to their own enjoyment. Because RP, as writing, is a skilled hobby - the more you practice it, the more skilled you become with it. Meaning that someone who approaches the writing seriously is going to be at a higher skill level.

Enter the way we're training to think about writing again - when they see someone who is very practiced, skilled, and confident with their writing, the learned idea is that they're somehow superior in a nasty, personal way.

I most certainly do not think that makes it alright, it isn't, and I'm not very tolerant of it.

It's absolutely alright to engage with RP in any way you see fit. If that's extremely casual, it's a minor hobby for you, that's great! I'm so happy you're enjoying yourself, and I mean that in no facetious way. But not when that is the only form of it respected and accepted. It's just as alright to have RP as your primary, serious hobby!

The only way we can all enjoy a hobby with such great variance within it is by respecting each other's variables, not by vilifying them. It's recognizing that, no matter how much you enjoy the mun and/or muse, they're not engaging with the hobby in the way you are, it's not a good fit to write together. (Please, begging y'all to be friends with those who are different, not enemies, shit's sake. You've not got to write together to be friends!) Instead of labeling them and being hateful. Different =/= a threat.

And, to go off a bit lol y'all demonizing serious RPers really don't get that there are some intense tones of ableism and more going on in that narrative of yours, huh?

Not that anyone requires a reason to be serious about any hobby, but when people pick a hobby like RP as their primary one...you should probably have the maturity to consider why that is. Could it be that they focus on a hobby they can do from their homes and that requires low physical involvement, and has a degree of separation from direct socializing, for a reason?

Serious RPers tend to be limited in their ability to pursue other hobbies. Mental and physical health, region, finances, and ability to spend time outside of the home are all very common limits for those who "take RP too seriously/are addicted to RP."

Maybe take five seconds away from your own issues to consider that the person you're shitting on for something so minor as a difference of importance of a hobby might be the full-time caretaker of a special needs child, having to remain home and on a very small income. They might be chronically ill or suffer from agoraphobia. They might live in an area with no hobbies of interest, affordability, or at all...or they might live somewhere that is incredibly dangerous for them.

I honestly do not know where these people have been that they've been aggressed at by serious RPers, but that's usually the excuse. (I'm not saying it has never happened or does not happen, before anyone goes there.) The idea that serious RPers are extreme elitists who are demanding that other muns do what they do, how they do it. That they expect other muns to be online and RPing all the time, that they be "available for entertainment at all times" at the cost of real-life matters. Having the expectation that threads not be dropped constantly or that a writing partner not leave for months with no contact is neither of those things.

In over two decades of RPing across almost every platform type that has existed, I have literally never seen that be either a singular RPer-type problem or one that serious RPers are even more likely to deal in. I've seen the opposite, actually. Which is not a condemnation or a statement that all casual RPers do this, just what my experience has been. And one that actually stands to reason based on the way they view and engage with RP - quick replies, quick entertainment, and very low commitment to threads, muses, or other muns. Of course, it's annoying to them when a more serious RPer is unwilling to do rapid-fire style quick, short threads from an ask with them, but is writing the lengthy replies they already owed instead.

That's probably a factor as well, in here among a plethora of misunderstanding/unawareness of differences - for many serious RPers, it's not easier and more fun to write short, quick threads. So, what a casual RPer is seeing is that they're willing to put all this extraordinary effort into a massive reply to someone else while their easy, fun, quickly done thread is waiting in line.

Misunderstandings and unawareness breed hostility, period. And there is a hell of a lot of those things in the RPC.

What serious RPers are expressing are either boundaries/expectations or frustration. Not a demand that you be around all the time, but an expectation that you leave them alone if you're not also a serious RPer who will be committed to threads and muses. Not hostility and elitism, the frustration that it's already difficult to find muns who will work out before you add in the majority rule of casual RPers.

It's incredibly disheartening, frustrating, and honestly, a bit anxiety-inducing to constantly be the weird one, always have few choices, and to be at risk of being Problematic purely because you take the hobby seriously. You can't vent without someone jumping on your ass to remind you (even if you said numerous times that "real life comes first" and "people can do what they want") that omg, people have lives, people can do what makes them happy, it's just RP.

It's so upsetting when you think you might have found a good writing partner, then, you see a PSA they've reblogged about how it's a "hobby, not a jobby," and "no one owes anyone anything, ever." Excuse me, as that last one is a direct quote, let me redo it so it is verbatim: "no one owes anyone here anything - EVER !!!"

I said I wasn't very tolerant :)

But seriously, exactly what you've expressed is why I'm not...it's another form of controlling others instead of trying your best to control your own experience, and it's often extremely hateful. I'm not tolerant of anything like that, it's no longer supporting preferences at that point. When your preference is the only one that will be tolerated in the community, it's not a preference anymore.

It's something that makes others feel isolated, afraid of harassment, and depressed. It is a hobby and it isn't supposed to make you feel like that!

And, no, absolutely the fuck not lol the "answer" to this isn't that you're taking it too seriously and need to take a break. I'm so tired of seeing that shit tacked onto RPH responses and vents and PSAs. You're not saying that RP is making you feel this way, "just take a break and come back when you agree with everyone else" isn't a solution.

Of course, if you do feel like your time here has become so upsetting? Yeah, obviously, you should try to find some other things to supplement your downtime that make you feel happier again. Engage in some other forms of writing just meant for yourself, or that can be published as fics. Spend some more time on a game you enjoy for a while, or get invested in a new one. Learn to shape bonsai or make no-knead rolls. Whatever would make you happy as a hobby when you're not here.

Other than that, however, well...we're not going to be implying on this blog that you're too serious and need to take a hiatus until you have no emotional investment in your hobby. That's insane. I'd not say it about hiking, martial arts, dog obedience competitions, hobby farming, or painting either.

I wish I could think of some solutions as to where you could look that wasn't like this, but it's definitely the majority of the RPC. It doesn't help that, due to this, serious RPers have a tendency to quietly stick together and not venture out into the RPC. They're just not incredibly easy to find.

I will say that they tend to be:

novella - if you're not here for serious RP and sticking around for a while, you're not going to invest the time and energy into particularly lengthy writing

older RPers - I would say that twenty-five is probably the youngest, with early thirties to late forties being the majority

in fandoms with a large adult base of fans - even if it's a franchise friendly to, or even meant for, younger fans, if it has a particularly active adult fanbase, it's a better chance of finding serious RPers in it

as above, old fandoms - fandoms that have been around for a long time tend to have more serious RPers in them

fandomless OCs - tend to have a higher chance of being written by serious RPers than canons or heavily fandom-involved OCs

RPers who do not do a ton of advertising for their muse(s), but when they do, they don't advertise them based on activism points or trends

slightly more likely to not have an emphasis on highly aesthetic blogs, graphics, icons etc. - they use a modified basic tumblr theme, low on graphics, their aesthetics are not on-trend, for example

anti-content policing/"write what you want" style muns

muns with more extensive rules pages - they plan to be here for a while, they take writing, RP, and their muse(s) seriously, so, it's a bit more important to them to head off problems before they start

those with older characters/FCs - be that literally in age or the character being one that has existed for a long time

"stay in your lane" style muns - if they're opining on fandom or the RPC, they must really be angry about something

those with numerous and detailed headcanons - for example, their response to a HC meme ask like, "what's your muse's favorite ice cream flavor?" is going to be treated seriously, not simply answered with "mint chocolate chip because my bby is gross"

As usual, not a complete or perfect list. I don't fit some of the things on there! It could give you some things to look for when trying to find other serious RPers, though. It's based on observances from someone who was never a casual RPer, even as a minor (me, obviously), and maybe it could at least keep you from continuously running into hostility about your approach to RP.

I've honestly considered making a list of some sort expressly for RPers who are on the more serious end of the spectrum, but...in a RPC back when things were dominated by serious RPers, I did that sort of thing with a RPH I had, and it still got labeled as being a list for and by Elitists. I don't know that anyone would want to put themselves out there for potential harassment on tumblr, you know? It was a joke then, just having a group of RPers label you as an Elitist. Here, you get told to kill yourself, and none of us need more of that shit, right?

Try to hang in there, Anon, I know it's upsetting, and I'm so sorry that something fun has gotten to be like this.

Try to understand that these people are coming from a place of irrational defensiveness, often in response to bullying themselves at some point or feeling bad about themselves. That doesn't make it right, but it does make it easier to not take to heart.

And keep at it! In my experience here, once you find a group of people you fit into, it really is...A Group. Especially among RPers who are ostracized, they stick together, they promote each other, and they're very happy for their mutuals to become your mutuals. Once you find them, it unlocks so many opportunities for the interactions and type of RP you've been missing!

#answered #anonymous #serious rpers #rp problems #rp advice

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thevividgreenmoss · 4 years ago

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My grandfather was awake and lucid for a longish while between late Friday night and Saturday morning apparently first time since this past Sunday when we all thought that was It and crammed ourselves seven people in one sedan that got a flat on the way over of course (as we were leaving the handle of the screen door came off in my hand as I was closing it behind me so the vibe was very on the nose things farcically falling apart that whole goddamn day lol) but then when we made it he was smiling and laughing and talking to and teasing everyone that was there, albeit with much more effort than it would have taken him even just a week earlier when he was already in a really frail state because of his hip surgery. My sister happened to be up later than she usually ever is and got to video call and chat with him for a bit I wanted terribly for my cousin in Colorado to be able to also but by the time he could get through my grandpa's blood pressure had suddenly spiked or something and he'd drifted back into that borderline unconscious state so they didn't get a chance to talk which makes me want to claw my fucking skin off of my face but who knows maybe another opportunity will present itself hopefully it does like he suddenly became really talkative and energized the other day after not having said more than maybe a couple sentences over the few previous days like I was there with him for several hours on Thursday and the entire time he didn't say a word and only opened his eyes once for like half a second and even that I might have been imagining after sitting there sleep-deprived and holding his hand trying not to cry because then my mom would start crying and then my aunt and on and on and if he's conscious at that point he'll start to get worried and his heart rate will destabilize but after that for this one stretch without anyone expecting it he was really talkative and alert and joking around with the nurses and doctors and all that for a while but then later yesterday afternoon he started to get disoriented and drift in and out of the present in between dreaming and waking again at one point apparently he kept saying 'look at my shoes' to my mom and her sisters and they thought it was just just the medication/pain-induced delirium talking but he kept insisting and eventually said 'you're not taking me seriously' and I guess gave up? Or said it a few more times I'm not clear on the course of events I only heard all this secondhand when my younger aunt, who also got diagnosed with cancer late last year but thankfully is more or less in the clear now, got back home last night and she and I went into his room and took all the shoes out of the cabinet he keeps them in and like looked inside and turned over and examined the soles of every pair, took the cushion insert things out of the ones that had them, checked for scooby doo-esque hidden doors, all that but there was nothing there just shoes. Her kids flew back out yesterday morning, the older one's tentatively returning to Toronto in the next week or so she had a painfully rough time in some ways her first couple of years and then abruptly had to be uprooted and leave because of covid then everything with her mom and in time honored eldest daughter tradition bearing the brunt of the familial frustration and insanity associated with that and now everything with our grandpa I really really want her senior year to go smoothly and be enjoyable and memorable in a manner opposite to how this past year+ has been I'm so worried about her and her little sister's starting freshman year there in the fall and I'm terribly worried about her in a whole different way like she's still really attached to her parents in this innocent way that still strongly resembles like a baby's adoring my mom hung the moon type attachment and it can be especially hard being away for the first time ever when that's the case...like she's hyper hypersensitive even by my family's standards lmao but she does have this sort of self-possession and inner groundedness that no one can quite pin down but it's

definitely there and maybe that

could carry her through I really hope so...they were saying to come up to visit them in the fall hopefully I can find a job soon after returning to Texas and like be able to afford to do that and also like keep paying the bills and shit lol in either case I hope so so badly that they'll be okay like I think they will be the women in my family are all really strong but they've also had to be because of various fucked circumstances and I don't want that to keep having to be the case...my grandpa's a Strong Woman in a certain way also honestly lmao like my mom's aunts have always been like your father raised you in a way beyond even most mothers which like who fucking receives let alone genuinely deserves that kind of praise from their in-laws lmao let alone a man from a notoriously patriarchal culture of a generation when fathers from any culture barely had any involvement in their children's upbringing at all which I mean most still don't but even more so back then and like literally everyone we've been hearing from or seeing drop by at the hospital has a story of how at one point or another my grandpa was there for them when no one else was like distant cousins variously removed and loose family friends all with something about how he comforted me when no one else could, I remember word for word what he said to me when I suffered some loss of my own, he's the strongest man in our family, the best times we ever had were when he was near us, when he'd take us out, his youngest brother's children saying he cared for and spoiled them as if their were his own after their dad died suddenly when they were just kids, my mom's third cousin whose own father was with her till a late age saying that he was even more of a father to me than my own father, his other brother's son who was ostracized for decades by his immediate family on some straight up racist ass bullshit on the part of his mom and older brother because he married a black woman but my grandpa stayed in touch and made sure my mom and uncle did as well and made sure we all got together when he'd came to the states, like even now lying there on what very well might be his literal deathbed when he can barely talk he was telling my uncle he's worried about him and he needs to go home and rest, asking who's taking care of the house, are the kids all okay even at this point his thoughts are for others. After I put his shoes back in the cabinet I closed it and opened the one beside just in case I guess just in case what I don't know but it was just like standard cabinet stuff clothes a shaving kit and a couple of what I assume are photo albums that I didn't feel like I should open for some reason and a few old books, a collection of Ghalib's which I can't really read very easily if at all because it's in Urdu lol, a history of government college of Lahore where his father was teaching at the time of his death and the two philosophy textbooks my great grandfather had written himself, Inductive & Deductive Reasoning, and inside the latter I found a handful of yellowed pages torn out of an old notebook upon which mostly seem to be translations of french poems and I think maybe a song or two? I guess old coursework or just for funsies I'm not sure whether written by my grandfather or his own father. My khala was mentioning just the other day that she'd kept one of my grandpa's old notebooks marked as having been designated for biology but inside it were no actual notes just urdu poetry which she wasn't sure whether it was his own original tossed off work or something the lifelong frustrated creative transcribed while bored in class. The night I got here I was looking through his bookshelves after everyone had gone to bed and then a couple of weeks ago I was sitting in the living room by myself watching archer when my cousin came and sat down next to me upset and unable to sleep on her own first night here and I held her and tried not to cry and then went through the same bookshelves again, this time with my cousin who we came to Pakistan for the first time after moving to the US

to see being born who turned three

the day we arrived on what until this current trip was the last time I was here her little sister having just been born earlier that same year (whose life I may or may not have saved when I caught her after she was dropped by the person holding her (the fact that (parentheticals within parentheticals!) I may or may not have been the one who dropped her in the first place is immaterial imo not that I'm the one on trial here but what's important is that I caught her and if anything this would be an even more athletically impressive and frankly heroic incident if I'd been the one that was holding her to begin with since I was 8/9 years old at the time and there wasn't much of a distance for her to fall and yet I kept her from hitting the ground like talk about reflexes like that's what's important and what's more important than even that @ my year older cousin (whose younger sister was the first baby in the family after myself whose arrival in this world when I was three had me positively giddy in the way that young children get when witnessing the miracle of even younger children, who's the only other one of the cousins that's been here during all this, just me and the three I got to see as darling little babies) who was the only other person in the room with me at the time, is that we take this to our fucking graves no one can hear a word of this least of all any adults in the house who like not that they're the ones on trial here either but like who allowed for this scenario to transpire in the first place where two children and an infant are in a room by themselves unsupervised in retrospect that's somewhat irresponsible not that I'd ever hold it against them or even mention it because then they might get mad and not let me hold my little cousin anymore and I do love holding my little baby cousin and carrying her around everywhere, mostly without incident)) neither of whom I'd see in person again until we visited them in Canada the summer after I graduated college the trip during which I finished the last of the Neapolitan novels the day after landing and turned 22 the day after their mother, my younger khala, turned 43, looking through my nana's bookshelves with my baby cousin no longer a baby but a U of T classics major entering her senior year, noting the overlaps with our own, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, George Eliot, the same exact copies of Cheever and Kafka's collected shorts, Umberto Eco, Proust, wondering what the various titles meant to him or what they might say about him, wondering how much of even the version of him that can be hypothesized based off his library I'm missing now that I'm limited to the much reduced version of what had been in his old home in Lahore (when he visited us after my junior year of hs and my mom was trying to convince him to downsize and move in with my other aunt with whom he's been living the past several years, the one who most resembles my grandfather the only one that has his cheekbones my khala whose eyes have sunken all the way into her skull before my eyes with exhaustion and grief over the past two weeks, when my mom was like what's the point of just hanging onto a bunch of books that you've already read: I look at them [dramatic pause], and I feel happy [my mom sighing equally dramatically in.exasperation, me cracking up in the background]) the city I was born in the house where I spent the first almost five years of my life before we moved to the US to join my dad who'd moved back shortly after my mom became pregnant with what turned out to be me, abu nana's house with the garden we'd walk through every morning holding his hand and following along as he puttered around with his plants in the garden in the house in the city he had to leave to move into my khala's house in Islamabad where I've been the past almost a month now where two weeks ago he suddenly came down with pneumonia and had to be dragged to a hospital in Rawalpindi where he's been since, not in his house, my nana's house, with the garden in the city I haven't seen since the last time I was in this country the

summer I

turned nine the day after my khala turned 30 the day before my other khala turned 32(?) the summer I first remember obsessive compulsive disorder becoming an overwhelming aspect of my consciousness although it was there before, the first summer of the Iraq war and being terrified watching the Iraq war unfold on the BBC evening news my nana would turn on

at dinner time and hearing for the first time or maybe just the first time I remember the night we left the phrase 'the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer' from my younger khala talking to her sisters and some family friends that had come over to see us off feeling terrified and cold then embarrassed because she noticed my face visibly fall from across the room and told my mom and I was like godammit everyone knows I'm scared now smhead then crying the entire flight back home because I missed everyone and maybe had a little kid premonition that I wouldn't return to my nana's house and I would be years and years till I saw any of them again some I still haven't or maybe there was nothing premonitory about it but in either case that's the way it turned out. I do feel grateful I got to see him again at all, when he last came to the US late 2016-early 2017 I was sure it would be the last time we would be in the same room. I'd make breakfast for us every morning and we'd eat together and the entire day I'd sit next to him inhaling secondhand smoke and talking and reading. I was in the midst of my initial aborted attempt to read Swann's way when he arrived. I'd gotten to Guermantes way last summer but I couldn't find a secondhand copy so I had to read it via ebook and that didn't feel right so I abandoned it until now I've been reading a copy pulled from his bookshelf. Last he visited was the first time I learned we were both Garcia Marquez-heads which I'd kind of assumed before and I showed him Mad Men which he heavily fucked with and also every John Le Carre adaptation I could track down online. From the first time I read one hundred years of solitude the summer after freshman year of college the passage describing Colonel Aureliano Buendia's death already absolutely and unbearably heartwrenching enough immediately brought thoughts of my grandfather, aching aching sorrow over the solitude that he himself existed within in all the fucking pain his life has been inordinately filled with grief over the knowledge of this inevitable final separation from him after so many years and so much distance already having separated him from the people he loved and cared for and he loved and cared for so many people so deeply with such sincerity and beauty and endless endless warmth and compassion and humor when Gabo wrote of the colonel trying to reach back through to his memories and being unable to after previously recalling that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice even years later, as he faced the firing squad, at the moment of his death like a 'baby chick' my poor frail beautiful grandfather appearing exactly the same way when he'd take off his dentures and curl over to the side to sleep, then when awake but still half asleep hearing your voice having brought his apple cider vinegar and garlic concoction or a cup of tea or just coming by to hold his hand or play with his beard the way all of his grandchildren have at one point or another and smiling with his eyes still closed smiling bright and wide the expression of a precious little cat purring as you scratch under its chin always the most beautiful smile and even as his hair turned white and his body withered and wrinkled and shrunk his cheekbones while still not bad long ago ceased being the way they were in that picture from his wedding day back when he he looked like young Robert De Niro's much much prettier Kashmiri cousin from then until now always that same radiance and those same quick-witted and kind and bright bright bright sparkling eyes. The past month and a half I've been feeling like I'm seeing my own mother dying before my eyes along with her father, my adorable beloved abu nana, I can't even begin to comprehend how she must be feeling right now I feel like I'm witnessing her death in advance through all of this and losing the part of her that is him even though I know that's not actually the case. Things have been so fucking painful and complicated between us but the one thing we've shared that's never

been painful is our love for him. When he left after his last visit four years ago I spent the next two days barely able to even talk. Compliments or like any positive comments directed in my directions have almost always caused me this reflexive discomfort and uneasiness but whenever he or anyone else would say that I'm his favorite grandchild I'd want to hold on to that as closely as i possibly can. I don't want him to leave us and more than that I want for whatever happens to at least happen with him back at home but neither of those things seem likely right now although who the fuck knows. I hope his last thoughts can be of flowers, like Kafka's, and Lispector's, or of love, wherever he is I hope it's not asking too much to hope for that at least. For someone that spent his life so deeply immersed within that Garciamarquesian solitude he never made those around him feel any way other than at home, safe and warm and loved and adored and adorable and lovable and at home not because of a place not even the garden at the house in Lahore but with him always always I've never felt more at home than during the times I spent near him, and his love and his flowers

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does-it-really-matter · 3 years ago

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TW // Trigger Warnings

⚠️ Disclaimer - The authors of this article are in no way specialised in dealing with trauma or PTSD. All the content and information in the article has been written only after intense research and several discussions. Views expressed in the article belong to the authors.

The internet was once a cozy web, attracting a few people like flies. But now, the internet has grown into something bigger than Aragog could weave. In such a huge space that technically has minimal supervision, disturbing content can be put up for everyone to see as easy as a click. This can have a long lasting effect on some viewers. How do we avoid unwittingly affecting those who might be adverse to such content? Simple. Trigger Warnings.

⚠️ What is it?

A trigger warning is a statement made prior to sharing potentially disturbing content. People who may struggle with PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) and/or panic disorders often have things that “trigger” them. These triggers activate the person’s fight or flight response, causing distress to the individual, and may also result in a flashback which could lead to a full blown panic attack. To help a person brace themselves for this kind of content which could potentially “trigger” them, a trigger warning is used.

We’ve all heard the word ‘trauma’, and used it casually. But what is it exactly? According to the American Psychology Association (APA), trauma is an emotional response to a terrible event like an accident, sexual assault or natural disasters. A trigger is a stimulus that brings back memories of said trauma. According to several researchers, triggers are highly specific to the particular individual, including and not restricted to which sense organ the trigger is tied to, and how each individual reacts to the trigger. When a person is affected by a trigger, they experience something that is termed by psychologists as “intrusion symptoms”. Intrusion symptoms may occur without any stimulus, but most times, certain smells, sounds, words or images might cause one to relive their trauma. Trigger warnings are used to inform the individual that there is distressing content that could potentially trigger their trauma.

Generally, the trigger may not actually be the traumatic incident itself, but things that may remind them of what happened before said traumatic incident. A baseball bat might trigger a certain person because their assaulter may have broken into their house with a baseball bat. A person who has been raped could be triggered by the smell of their rapist’s cologne, even years later. A person who lived with abusive parents could find the smell of a certain type or brand of alcohol triggering. A certain ringtone or noise could cause someone to go into a panic attack.

This is where trigger warnings can be useless, because on the one hand, one would not think that something like a ringtone could be potentially “triggering”. On the other hand, it’s unrealistic to put a trigger warning before every piece of media, on the off chance that one potential viewer could get triggered by the content.

⚠️ Traumatic events Vs. Content

There’s a difference between trigger warnings and content warnings. Trigger warnings are used to warn the viewer about content that could lead to intrusion symptoms, while content warning is generally used as a warning of disturbing content that could upset a majority of the viewers, irrespective of whether it causes intrusion symptoms or not. This is typically used before depictions of graphic violence, sexual assault and abuse, animal abuse, and even flashing lights. However, the line between trigger and content warning is pretty blurred, since all these things could also cause intrusion symptoms.

⚠️ Going back to the Web

A lot of people use the internet as an escape from the “real world”, and naturally, want the internet to be a safer space than the world around them. So they put trigger and content warnings on distressing media, because they know that people with PTSD also view the same content. However, with the rise in internet users, there’s also been a push to extreme liberal views, to the extent that internet users demand trigger warnings on things that aren’t conventionally triggering. But that’s not plausible, as the people who exist in the real world are the same people who are on the internet. And as we all know, people don’t come with trigger warnings in the real world. The internet is also a gigantic platform, and it is next to impossible to be aware of every single user’s trigger and accommodate them.

Researchers have also found that trigger warnings do more harm than good. One of the most common coping mechanisms of people with PTSD is avoidance, where-in they avoid everything that has to do with their trauma. By extensively using trigger warnings on everything, it is enabling this behaviour, and allows them to live in their own cozy cocoon. This sounds appealing enough, but at the end of the day, they never face their trauma, and can ultimately never move on from it. The more one avoids something, the more that avoidant behavior is reinforced, and the worse the problem gets. It can cause a dislike to become a fear, and that fear can very well become a phobia.

Another harmful result of overusing trigger warnings is that it causes viewers who suffer from PTSD, etc, to look at their trauma as their central identity. This happens to the point that they see themselves only as an embodiment of their trauma, instead of an actual person. Trauma is relative, and even those who face the same trauma cope with it differently. A few constantly think about their trauma, while others struggle with it less frequently. A lot of these people are in the process of recovery, and are learning how to control what they think about. Using trigger warnings extensively reminds them of their trauma and pushes back their recovery. Some people on the internet enable the concept of glorifying trauma to ridiculous lengths, through both the trigger warnings, and by infantilizing those who have undergone trauma. There is a difference between treating people suffering from PTSD with compassion, and comparing them to children who are unable to live independently.

Trauma is relative, some people’s thoughts are constantly preoccupied with their trauma, and others not. Some are in the process of recovery and are learning how to control what they think about. In a way, by over-using a trigger warning, one is almost indirectly reminding them of their trauma, and also indirectly coddling them. This pushes back recovery.

The central problem with the warnings, however, is that while they warn the viewers that disturbing content exists within the media, it does not reduce the impact that the actual disturbing content has on the viewer. People with PTSD cannot control their intrusion symptoms without therapy, and cannot brace themselves against those symptoms regardless of whether there was a trigger warning prior to the content or not.

One incredibly effective way to deal with PTSD is exposure therapy, which is the complete opposite of the message that slapping a trigger warning on everything sends. Exposure therapy is a form of psychological treatment that involves exposing the target patient to the anxiety source or it’s context, in order to allow the patient to normalise it for themselves. Several studies have found that 60-90% of patients who have undergone exposure therapy have reported either significant or moderate relief from their symptoms.

⚠️ Goofy Trigger or Actual Trigger?

Unfortunately, trigger warnings are slowly becoming more of a joke on the internet. What was once created to accommodate PTSD symptoms has now become synonymous with ‘offensive content’, which trivializes those with genuine trauma. People have unironically asked for trigger warnings on content with milk products as it may be "offensive" to lactose intolerant people. They use trigger warnings for misogyny, menstruation, insects, and even skinny people! This is problematic, to say the least. None of these even require trigger warnings! The internet has taken something as serious as a trigger and a person’s trauma and turned it into a complete and utter joke.

When we look at trigger warnings, we associate them with problematic things, like child abuse. It’s pretty much conditioned in our brains. But then when we look at, for example, ‘TW- Food’, our brains connect the dots and deem food as problematic. When people who struggle with eating disorders see that, it’s reinforced in them that food is triggering and a bad thing, and it makes recovery for them that much harder. Moreover, in the real world, a McDonald's billboard advertisement doesn't come with a trigger warning for those who find food "triggering". People struggling with their body image need to understand that, due to societal standards, the modelling and fashion industry will choose skinny people to model for them. Now, although the industry is slowly changing, being thin is still the norm. We also cannot ignore the fact that naturally skinny people exist, and their mere existence absolutely should not be something that is ‘triggering’ .

Of course, certain content such as graphic depictions of violence, sexual assault, child and animal abuse, self-injury and suicide mandatorily require a trigger and/or content warning, as they warn people with PTSD from viewing and/or reliving their own trauma in a way, and also warn other people who may not be in the right headspace to view such content.

Another crucial trigger warning that most of us may have seen is the warning for flashing lights. Flashing lights can trigger seizures in people who have epilepsy. While this is not a trauma induced trigger, it’s caused by a medical condition, and can lead to those with epilepsy to have life-threatening seizures.

Triggers are definitely real, and undoubtedly should be accommodated as much as possible. But when one is on a platform that’s as big as the internet, it becomes each person’s responsibility to make sure that they don’t harm themselves by triggering their PTSD. While therapy is definitely the best option to treat PTSD and trauma, it’s not possible for everyone affected by it to afford therapy for various reasons. So it’s better to avoid triggering things on the internet. However, it is simply not possible for the internet nor the millions of users on it to cater to everybody’s trauma. In the real world, the number of people one interacts with is relatively fewer, and people would be willing to accommodate one’s trauma. On the internet, which has almost 5 billion users, there is absolutely no way for every individual’s trauma to be accounted for. Treating everyone with compassion is a must, but curbing half of the internet’s content with trigger warnings is messy, and makes people lose focus of why it started in the first place.

So, are you triggered yet?

Some references used by the authors.

youtube

#blog #personal blog #blogger #ptsd #trigger warnings #trigger #tw #Youtube

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