#but neither have the common sense to actually communicate

[lightdancer1]

I still think that there's one bit of A Winter's Tale that a lot of meta and fanfics neatly skip past:

The funny bit is that when I use this in my own fics it's basically the bargain basement level of textual analysis and when I lay it out you'll see why. Because the Endless, after all, are anthropomorphic personifications defined by their jobs, ultimately, that take a physical and metaphorical form as their realms and the nature of their being. Dream and Destruction struggle with it in ways not unlike Death, but here it gets into the interrelated but that I will also bring up.

As per A Winter's Tale and the (slightly modified) version of it in the show, Death has a vision of her job/function unlike any of her siblings. In the comics, the harder version that I prefer to use over the show, she outright walked out because her job wore her down and she had, essentially, a nervous breakdown because of a deep depression that a careful reading of A Winter's Tale shows she's in denial about never addressing. Naturally my stories tend to hit her with this Negan Bat with great gusto.

Now factor this is in from a canonical POV and a family of beings who are defined by tasks, where Dream and Destiny are the most rigid....and then equally factor in the irony that Dream, one of the two most rigid, is at his closest with the one who's ultimately one of the least and the most flighty about aspects of details of her job. Factor in that this family of immortals who date from the dawn of time have one person in the family who completely cracked and walked out and broke reality in the process.

From their POV it would no doubt be a thing that hung over their sister and her decisions and a thing that they and those old enough to have been there would long remember. From the perspective of job-defined inhuman immortals, the very thing that would make Death the most appealing to humans are a mark of permanent failure on her part, while her becoming mortal and taking her mortal days might well anchor her in mortal affairs in a way only Destruction comes close to.....but it can easily be read in a much darker fashion than I usually would be inclined to take it because I've struggled with those thoughts myself and writing that into fiction is playing with fire when soaked with gasoline.

A human would see the events of A Winter's Tale as 'the job got to you and it was hard' and understand that. Would the Endless? Even Destruction? Ultimately no, I don't think any of them really could understand that even if they tried, and there are some careful looks at Destruction's actions in Brief Lives and Song of Orpheus that both strengthen the parallel with Death and where they differ.

Death is willing to fully yield her power for 24 hours a century to live among mortals without any of the sorcery and the responsibility and the nature of the Endless. None of her siblings are willing to go so far, or to truly experience life within the worlds they govern in that way.

And then combine this with the knowledge that unlike the rest she will outlive the universe, and without the universe Death of the Endless is but a title and a moment in time, a true job that will one day end....at the price that all her siblings go into something she cannot see and she alone cannot. And then take another look at the mortal days and as much as it anchors her in the mortal world and in being able to relate to mortals it can be seen in that darker sense as both an escape hatch and a deeply necessary one because she is ultimately still chasing the same outlet she tried to get and failed and only returned to because well....

[dailymanners]

I feel as though in the past few years it's becoming more common for me to be interrupted while I'm speaking, and I can't help but wonder if more people are losing a sense of conversational rhythm due to communicating more and more digitally and less and less in person.

When you communicate digitally you don't have to worry about finding the natural rhythm of the conversation, you're not taking away someone else's ability to finish their thought or make their point if you send a message to them while they're still typing. I'm not here to scare monger about the kids and their phones, but it's important that you don't let your skill of finding a conversational rhythm, if you have that skill, atrophy, lest you speak over someone and take away their ability to complete their thought and make their point.

But I also realize that it's really important to specify what I mean by interrupting someone.

When someone says that interrupting is really normal and not considered rude in their community or culture, what they're actually talking about is what's known in linguistics as "cooperative overlap", that or simultaneous talking. Here's an example of cooperative overlap and/or simultaneous talking that you might see in a culture where this is normal and acceptable:

Person A: So guess where I went today? I went to the -

Person B: Oh let me take a wild guess! You went to the shoe store again didn't you?

Person A: That's right, and I got a -

Person C: Oh come on, don't tell you got another pair!

Person A: You know it baby!

Now let's compare that to a different style of interruption, what I like to call "steamrolling"

Person A: So guess where I went today? I went to the -

Person B: UGH did you guys catch the game last night?

Person C: Yeah the refs sucked!

Now, what differences can you see between the first example, aka "cooperative overlapping" vs the second "steamrolling" example?

For one, in the first example Person A is still allowed to make their point, tell their story, and finish their thought. They're not being silenced or completely derailed, and most importantly their conversation partners still seem interested and engaged in what they have to say. In the second example, Person A is being completely derailed and stripped of their chance to finish their thought and make their point, which is unfair to Person A, which is what makes "steamrolling" disrespectful even in many cultures and communities where "cooperative overlapping" would be acceptable.

Now, conversational overlap isn't for everyone, and that's okay, but it makes it awkward and tricky when someone from a community or culture that uses conversational overlap talks to someone who is from a culture that doesn't. For example:

Person A: So the other day I went to -

Person B: Oh my god did you go to that one store?

Person A: Um, no, I went to the movies, and I saw -

Person B: OH did you see that new creepy movie about the aliens?

Person A: No, can I please just finish my story?

Person B: Oh, uh, sorry

Neither person will probably feel great after this conversation. And I'm not here to condemn either conversational styles. I understand why some people see cooperative overlap as a more engaging and exciting conversational style, but I also understand why some people find it frustrating. My mother's family has a cultural background big on conversational overlap, but my father's side of the family ehhh not so much, so I personally grew up seeing these two conversational styles clash a lot.

If you're person A in the above conversation who doesn't like conversational overlap, that's totally fine, I'm personally not a big fan of it either only because I have a terrible memory, so when someone disrupts my flow I usually end up completely forgetting what I want to say. Just try to recognize the difference between cooperative overlap vs steamrolling. If someone is just trying to cooperatively overlap with you, patiently and politely tell them something along the lines of "sorry I have a terrible memory so if I don't finish I'll forget what I'm trying to say". But it's generally a good idea to be more patient and understanding with conversational overlap than steamrolling.

If you're someone who cooperatively overlaps and you encounter someone who isn't a fan of it, try not to take it personally, maybe like me they have a horrible memory and will forget what they're trying to say if they get side tracked.

But what I meant earlier about conversational rhythm is that too often a lot of interrupting comes from not realizing the other person wasn't finished speaking.

For example, personal A wants to say "so the other day I went hiking, and I saw a fox" some people might not recognize when person A is actually finished speaking, typically they assume as soon as they've heard a complete clause that means the thought is finished, so the conversation goes like

Person A: So the other day I went hiking -

Person B: OH I went hiking a few weeks ago with my girlfriend but it was so slippery out!

Person C: Oh how is your girlfriend doing by the way?

Person B: She's doing great! How's your partner doing?

Do you see how this style of interruption, unlike cooperative overlap, also derails Person A and deprives Person A of a chance to finish what they want to say? It's not quite steamrolling, and often just comes from a lack of rhythm or understanding. As a general rule, if you want to avoid interrupting someone, pause for a few seconds after you think they're finished in case they aren't actually finished. This way you avoid accidentally depriving someone of the chance to finish what they want to say and completing their thought.

We should never be too eager to assume someone has finished making their point because you never know what someone might actually be trying to say, and if you cut someone off before they make their point you can miss important context. For example:

Person A: I don't think I see stray cats here -

Person B: AHA BULL FUCKING SHIT! I totally saw a stray cat the other day!

Person A: I was going to say as much as in other places if you had let me finish?

Or:

Person A: I hate when it's hot out. When I was a kid it was usually around 25 or 30 degrees Celsius in the summers -

Person B: OH come one don't be such a wimpy little baby! 25-30 degrees isn't even that warm! I've totally seen WAY hotter summers than that!

Person A: Uh, that's what I was going to say if you'd let me finish, the summers were pretty mild when I was a kid, but they're a lot hotter now . .

Do you see how in both conversations Person B was too eager to assume Person A had finished making their point and ended up missing important context? If person B had only paused and waited for Person A to finish making their point, they wouldn't have ended up making an ass of themselves to put it frankly. This style of interruption can make you come across as eager to dominate and "one up" other people, which frankly a lot of people find obnoxious and exhausting. This is different than cooperative overlapping because it comes from a place of wanting to correct or one-up your conversation partner, rather than play and/or build into what they're saying, which is why I'd argue it's closer to steamrolling.

Good conversational rhythm ideally means everyone is allowed to finish their thought and make their point, whether or not that includes overlapping or even simultaneous talking. If you're not sure someone has finished their thought, pause a few seconds to make sure they've had the chance to complete their thought, less you miss important context. OR, if you do interject, it should be about building/playing into what they're saying rather than derailing/steamrolling them.

What's important to keep in mind is that it's often a matter of power and respect when someone is or isn't allowed to finish their thought and make their point. If someone is unable to finish their thought or make their point before getting steamrolled, they're going to feel like their input to the conversation isn't valued or important, and that's never a good feeling.

[justauthoring]

the winner takes it all.

in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.

a/n: i truly am the queen of being late to the partyyyyyyyyyyyy (ive wanted to write for sebastian since hogwarts legacy came out but just finally got around to finally writing for him :) )

warnings: leander prewett bashing because i said so :), being drugged?

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!slytherin!reader

“I don’t need to have eyes to know you’re staring, Sebastian.”

Ominis’ rather bland comment pulls Sebastian from the spiraling thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, a blink of the eye as he shifts, turning to face his long time friend with a frown. 

“I’m not staring,” Sebastian argues, voice sharper than he meant it to be. Guilt runs through him when he realizes he’s being unfairly cross with Ominis, a boy that despite all has had to deal with Sebastian’s rather cross moods as of late and in the grand scheme of things, has done so with very little complaint.

“Sorry,” Sebastian sighs after a moment of silence passes, shoulders sinking. “It’s just…”

Ominis sets his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder across the table, squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain, Sebastian. I understand,” he offers softly, voice warm with what is meant to be comfort. Sebastian, despite the hurt in his heart, does feel himself ease, even if only a little, at Ominis’ words. The boy has always been exceptionally good at understanding others and knowing what to say to help someone—something Sebastian often found he lacked in retrospect. But then again, given who Ominis was, it made complete sense for him to understand and see things other’s couldn’t (even if he lacked the actual sight to do so).

“I just worry you’ll do something rash,” Ominis adds tentatively, as if afraid of Sebastian’s reaction. 

But Sebastian isn’t offended—honestly, he’s been rather scared of his own limits as of late. Especially when he was faced with that mocking grin and gaze that seemed to scream; I beat you.

It all started two days ago when, instead of meeting Sebastian in your shared common room as you normally did, you never showed up. The act was odd but Sebastian had brushed it off as a simple lack of communication, figuring you’d headed to the Great Hall ahead of him for whatever reason since Anne had assured him you weren’t in your room. Maybe you forgot to let him, he figures; the possibilities of why you’d left early were endless and it wasn’t like Sebastian wasn’t capable of walking the halls without you so he’d shrugged it off and joined Ominis and Anne instead.

It was really when he entered the Great Hall that everything went wrong.

Despite his brush off earlier, the second he was in the hall, his eyes had strained to search for you, missing the familiar and comfortable conversation he could find in you. He missed seeing your face first thing and making you laugh with one of his silly quips or light teasing, watching you stuff your face full of food because you couldn’t possibly just choose one thing and rather had to have it all and—

And all of that seemed to feel a lot worse when he finally found you and saw you sat at not only the wrong table but with Leander Prewett of all people. If that wasn’t bad enough, you were practically sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you cuddled into his side, giggling as the boy practically fed you.

Sebastian’s feet had moved on their own, despite Anne’s worried call after him and Ominis trying to grab him (because despite not being able to see what Sebastian had, he’d known the boy long enough to know something was terribly wrong). Neither of them had mattered in that moment as Sebastian blindly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the curious pairs of eyes that watched him, marching straight up to you and Leander. The latter lazily glanced up at him, looking entirely too smug and pleased about himself as your eyes slowly flickered over to him, blinking, before smiling; “Sebastian!”

The way you’d called his name sounded all wrong. Although you looked pleased, a bright grin on your face, your eyes weren’t sparkling with the mischief he’d come to expect from you and rather you looked dazed.

Lovesick. The word made Sebastian want to throw up.

“Can we help you, Sallow?” Leander grinned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

Sebastian’s lips part, but he hesitates, bewildered. His eyes flicker from Leander, to you, to the grip he has on you, to the way you’re holding him. “What… what the bloody hell is this?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Leander asks, voice sickly sweet. “Y/N and I were just enjoying breakfast together, weren’t we, love?” And to add to it all, Leander presses a kiss to your cheek and what shocks Sebastian most of all is that you don’t push him away or slap him or anything—you… you respond to the kiss.

Now, it wasn’t like you hated Leander. You knew of Sebastian’s… distaste towards the boy, and that Anne and Ominis in one way or another felt the same, though just not as much. You didn’t care for the boy either, as you’ve told Sebastian plenty, but you’d told him plenty of times not to be too mean or cruel or at least, try to get along with him.

Sebastian feels like he’s going crazy—was this why? Did you want him to at least try and get along with Leander because all along you’d had a secret crush on him or something? 

Had Sebastian misread everything?

The walks together every morning? The late nights spent together? The lingering touches? Longing looks? Flirts and teases and…—

“That’s right,” you grin at Leander, brushing at his bright, red hair and smiling. 

“But…” Sebastian swears he sounds more pathetic than he ever has… he certainly feels it. Watching you stare at Leander with that lovesick expression, smiling and touching him and… had Sebastian just never seen it? Had he been that blind by his own emotions? “You weren’t in the common room this morning,” is what he eventually manages, though it’s rather pointless.

It was obvious where you were.

“Oh,” you call out, blinking, as if you’d just remembered—oddly, that hurts the most. That you’d… forgotten about him. “Sorry Sebastian, I had such an urge to see Leander this morning and… well, I’m glad I did. Because I was finally able to tell him of my feelings,” you smile at him, cupping his cheek. “And i’ve never been so happy to hear he returned them.”

Sebastian’s lips part, his gaze shifting to Leander who’s watching him carefully.

The glare is clear. The meaning is plain.

I win.

Thankfully Anne is flanking his side before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself, grabbing Sebastian firmly by the arm and offering you a small, albeit bewildered smile and a glare at Leander before leading Sebastian away.

It had been two days since then and you hadn’t left Leander’s side once.

The only time you were alone was in the classes you didn’t share with him, and despite the fact that Sebastian had luckily shared one of those classes with you, his hopes at finding out some sort of answer had been quickly squashed when you spent the entire class in a daze. You hadn’t paid attention to the professor at all and spent your time staring off in a blissful, oblivious smile, ever so often whispering Leander’s name under your breath.

Sebastian was heartbroken. And angry. And hurt. And everything in between.

“I want to,” Sebastian admits to Ominis as he pulls himself from the memory. But, then, he sighs. “I won’t though. If… Y/N is happy, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Ominis frowns. “You’re not going to fight it even a little?”

Sebastian turns to him, confused; “you just said you didn’t want me doing that.”

“I just don’t want you to do anything rash,” Ominis argues, shaking his head. “It all still feels so strange to me. I mean, had Y/N given any sort of inclination about her feelings for Leander? I certainly don’t remember her saying anything and neither does Anne.”

Sebastian pauses, “well, no… I guess not. But maybe it was because we’d been clear how we felt about him.”

“Still,” Ominis expresses, leaning forward. “It’s so sudden. She went to bed fine and then woke up that morning and she’s barely spoken two words to us since. We were once her best friends, no?”

Sebastian had been so caught up in his own hurt he hadn’t even begun to think about how Ominis and Anne must be feeling. They were your best friends just as much as they were his after all and it wasn’t just Sebastian you’d steered clear of… you’d been avoiding all three of them like they were the plague. 

Sebastian sighs; “I think she’s just—”

“—She’s been poisoned!”

Both Ominis and Sebastian rear their heads back in surprise at both Anne’s words and her very sudden arrival, not to mention the loud bang that echoes as she slams the box in her hands onto the table with no care for those around. Some Slytherins nearby send her glares but she ignores them, her wide eyes strictly on both Sebastian and Ominis as she pants, out of breath.

“Anne,” Ominis calls, blinking. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“Y/N,” she all but breathes, turning to Sebastian who’s sat beside her. “Y/N’s been poisoned.”

Sebastian’s brows furrowed; “what the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Look,” she calls, pushing the box in her hands forward. Sebastian eyes it as she takes the lid off, taking in the red and gold wrapping paper, before eyeing the wrapped piece of chocolate Anne pulls out of it. 

Sebastian stares; “it’s chocolate.”

Anne huffs, exasperated. “It’s laced,” she explains, pushing it to Sebastian’s face. “Smell it.”

Completely baffled but unable to resist with the way Anne is shoving the chocolate in his face, Sebastian does as he’s told. Leaning forward, he takes a small whiff, almost immediately frowning in confusion when he does; “it smells like… Y/N.”

For a moment, Anne pauses; “well, that fits,” she laughs, before pulling the chocolate closer to her. “It smells different to me. It smells like—” but she hastily cuts herself off, growing red in the cheeks as her eyes flicker over to Ominis.

A moment passes.

“Okay…” Ominis finally sighs, probably the most confused. “But what does this have to do with Y/N being—” He halts, eyes widening. “Amortentia!”

Anne grins; “exactly.”

“What?” Sebastian cries.

“I found these chocolates on Y/N’s bed,” Anne explains, “with a note attached, signed by Leander.”

The cogs in Sebastian’s mind slowly click together.

“He… he drugged her!” he calls out in disbelief, feeling a new wave of rage flood through him. His eyes snap back to his right, where he’d been staring before, where you are, coddled up next to Leander as he smiles sickly down at you, touching you, kissing you. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Anne is quick to grab onto him, “no.” And at the bewildered look he sends her, she frowns. “We need to get her to Blainey. She’s the only one who can heal Y/N and then the school will deal with him.”

Sebastian wants to argue but despite the anger radiating through him, he knows his sister is right.

-

Your head hurts as you blink away, the bright light above your head causing you to moan in dejection, confused.

Where were you?

Pressing a hand to your face, you try to block the light, using your other hand to push yourself up, slowly, since your whole body hurts in a dull ache everywhere. It takes you a moment to realize you’re in the hospital wing, recognizing the startling white of the room, before a set of hands are falling on you, pulling your attention to your left.

You gasp, panicked, until you see a familiar pair of warm brown eyes staring back at you in concern.

“Sebastian…” You mumble, voice coarse.

He shakes his head at you; “don’t push yourself.” He urges gently, his hand on your back as the other reaches behind you, helping prop you up with your pillows. You let him, still confused, as you glance around the room.

“How… How did I get here?” You asked, not remembering how you ended up here or why… actually, everything feels like a dull blur. The last thing you clearly remember is coming to your dorm after a long day of classes, surprised to see a box of chocolates on your bed and they’d been from… Leander!

Your eyes snap to Sebastian; “Sebastian! I think… I think I may have been poisoned by—”

“Leander Prewett,” Sebastian cuts in, face darkening as he nods at you. “Yes, well, Y/N…”

“You were given the love potion, my dear,” Blainey calls out, stepping into your view with a sheet of paper in her hands, eyes slowly flickering to meet your own with a worried frown. “Amortentia,” she nods, lips pursed. “Thanks to this young man, I was able to give you the remedy rather quickly but it looks like you were drugged for at least a couple days. Your body aches because of the antidote, so I’d like to keep you for a few hours just to make sure everything is alright but overall, there should be no lasting effects.”

Stunned, you let her words register.

Letting your hands fall numbly to your lap, you stare at them.

“Y/N?” Sebastian calls out quietly, pulling your eyes on him as he glances at you in concern. “Are you…?” his words trail, not really sure how to gauge the look on your face.

“I’m alright,” you whisper, “just… embarrassed.”

Sebastian shakes his head; “it’s not your fault—”

The door slamming open catches both of your attention, and your eyes widen when Leander comes storming into the room. The concerned look on his face is quickly replaced with rage when he sees Sebastian at your side, and Leander wastes no time; “just what are you doing—”

But Leander never gets to finish what he’s saying because in the next second Sebastian’s fist is colliding with his cheek, hard, and knocking him off his feet and straight into the ground. Nurse Blainey lets out a cry in surprise as you jump, body tensing as your eyes flicker from Leander to Sebastian, but you’re not afraid. At least not of Sebastian. Rather, his actions fill you with an odd warmth.

“I normally wouldn’t send you straight to detention for that, Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley’s voice rings out as she makes her way inside the room, and your eyes widen when you see Ominis and Anne trailing closely behind her. “But given the circumstances, I guess I’ll let such violence pass this once. Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Sallow.”

Still breathing heavily, Sebastian takes a step back, his eyes easing when he turns to look at the professor. “You got it, Professor Weasley.”

“Now, Mr. Prewett,” Weasley’s voice calls out and the boy jumps as her steely eyes fall on him, scrambling to his feet as he looks around at everyone. “I believe you and I need to have a long chat.”

“B-But—” Leander sounds absolutely pathetic, his eyes falling on you as you simply glare at him, arms crossed over your chest, before falling on Sebastian who grins at him widely.

I win.

“Now, Mr. Prewett.”

Leander all but skulks out behind Weasley.

The second he’s gone, Anne rushes to your side, taking your hands in hers. “I was so worried when you started acting like a lovesick fool for Prewett of all people,” she cries, shaking her head as your cheeks burn, thinking of all the embarrassing things you must’ve been doing for the past few days. “I’m so glad none of it was real.”

Letting out a light laugh, you rub at the back of your neck; “I imagine I embarrassed myself quite a bit, huh?”

“A little,” Ominis says honestly, grimacing. “But it wasn’t your fault and the school is sure to know that when Leander is expelled for using a potion on you like that.”

His words bring comfort, even if a little.

“Y/N must be tired, guys,” Sebastian calls out after a moment. “Let’s leave her to rest.”

Ominis nods, offering you a small squeeze on the shoulder before pulling Anne with him who just grins at her brother; “I trust you’ll take good care of her for me though, won’t you, brother?”

Sebastian’s cheeks burn red and you turn away, but he doesn't argue.

Once Anne and Ominis have left, Sebastian returns to the seat he’d been in beside your bed, Blainey having left to give the both of you a bit of space. There’s a silence that swallows the both of you, and then, slowly, you let your hand fall on his.

“I’m sorry.”

Sebastian blinks, turning to you. “Why are you…”

You bite your lip, looking at your lap, cheeks flushed. “Whatever I did… I know Ominis said it already, but really, none of it was me… you know that, right?”

Sebastian flips his hand, taking yours in his and squeezing. “You have no idea how reassuring that is to hear.” 

Your eyes snap to his, lips parting.

He shakes his head. “Even when Anne discovered you’d been drugged, there was still a part of me that… I–I guess, it’s just… seeing you act that way with him, kissing and holding and-and being with him like that… It made me terribly uncomfortable.”

You shift, leaning closer to him; “just uncomfortable?”

“Jealous.”

He glances up at you, and you meet his eyes, hand still in his as your free hand reaches forward, daring yourself to brush your fingers through his curls. Sebastian lets you, eyes watching you, before suddenly he’s leaning forward and then his lips are on yours, soft and warm albeit nervous, pulling away too soon as your lips part and you stare back at him.

“Incredibly jealous.”

You smile softly, “I didn’t mean any of it.” You whisper, emphasizing the words. “I didn't mean any of it with him because I wanted it to be with you, Sebastian.”

He grins, his face easing for the first time since you’d woken up and the sight of it is enough to fill you with warmth.

Then, Sebastian’s lip part and he’s grinning a little too widely; “that’s a relief because it was almost embarrassing for me to see you fawning over—”

You cut him off with a sharp slap to his shoulder, one he gasps in response to, holding the offended spot but the grin never fades from his lips as he smirks over at you.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”And of course, his eyes sparkle with glee; “nope.”

[celestialtarot11]

8h synastry with romantic partners

Hi friends! I wanted to discuss the 8h synastry with romantic partners. It is mixed with my subjective experience, so please keep that in mind! I’ve had this placement twice with two people, so let’s talk about it and misconceptions! ✨💗☮️ Please like comment and reblog to boost 🌹

🌹 Why is 8h synastry so likable in the astrology community?

For many reasons, one being it’s described as a strong sexual desire and tension between two people. It feeds into a fantasy of control. Some people may actually enjoy this synastry and that’s completely okay, no shame here. But this post is meant to go deeper psychologically in this synastry placement.

People may like it because it offers a sense of control from the start. The common enemies to lovers trope can easily start a competition between the two, and it usually leads to behaviors to impress the other person involved, even if both are not used to seeing themselves in this light. Stalking to know ones personal life and every detail is common with this synastry.

People also think it’s a sex placement, ruling things that happen in the bed. But in my previous post I discussed this in detail and provided my thoughts. The 8th house is associated with loss and grief, the metaphysical death of one’s ego and wounding. This does not sound sexy at all and the 8th house has nothing to do with bedtime pleasures. It can talk about our deepest desires that we shame ourselves for, however. See here for more: Discussing the Misconception of Pluto + More

🌹 So, what really is 8h synastry?

According to textbooks and traditional astrology, the 8h is associated with metaphysical death, loss, transformation, and release of the old. In Vedic astrology it’s associated with past lives and karmic debt. All the houses are associated with profection years, but 8th house years are about losing stability to gain stability, and losing what was causing the imbalance in our lives. Including ourselves.

In relationships from subjective experiences, 8h synastry included a false sense of control over each other. Controlling perceptions, manipulating how one saw the other. It also created a feeling of entrapment, being infatuated with the other person that no one else mattered. Or no one else could break the bond. This synastry appealed to our darkest fears and attachments from the start. All abandonment wounds, codependency, triggers slowly unravel itself in the relationship. Usually the connection lasts as long as the two remain infatuated. At some point, it will end with the real authentic truth. The truth that we cannot hide ourselves from, and neither can the other person. It has barely anything to do with the actual connection, and more so our psychology and how we replayed our past.

The point of 8th house synastry is to help break both people away from the past and become a transmuted version of themselves. To release the baggage and narratives controlling them in their relationships. For example if you have been codependent, the 8h relationship will highlight a lot of those patterns to heal it. The 8h relationship is mostly an ending, not a beginning. It’s an end to our pain, our suffering and the shame we experienced in childhood.

A disclaimer not all relationships with 8th house synastry has to end horribly or will end horribly, I’ve known people who have created beautiful lives in this. The two just have to keep healing in the connection.

8h synastry can be so difficult because it involves the parts of us we are ashamed of to come out. It involves rawness, authenticity, and release. Both people can see each other’s triggers in the light and it can make vulnerability difficult. Especially when both people came in wanting to preserve their image to be the best.

In my experience, the people I dealt with had so many triggers and truths come out, things I never expected to see from them. Also from myself. It gave me the opportunity to heal something that kept controlling me. 8h synastry is truly complex. It gives us awareness not everything is as it seems. Not everything can be taken at face value.

I’ve known someone who rather live in denial and delusion than to face reality. It was too difficult for him to acknowledge the healing I had done, especially when I asked him about the truth. Instead of giving me one truth, he gave me many confusing and contradictory ones. The only thing I could trust was my intuition and what I needed to do: heal.

Would I ever want 8h synastry again? No! It did all it needed to do and 5h synastry is better for sex 😭 The 5h is all about fun and pleasure anyway! I never want to romanticize the feeling of control in those partnerships again. Eventually it all came down and crumbled.

Lets not romanticize trauma and false sense of control these relationships may present to us 💅🏻✨ Thank you for coming to my ted talk! Please share and comment or like! 🌹❤️

Paid Readings ☮️💗

[caintooth]

From a transmasc who loves transfems more than I hate transmisogyny: If you are AFAB you should not be calling yourself transfem, a transwoman, or a transgirl.

Let me start this by saying that I agree, obviously, that our society needs to stop caring about AGAB. Ideally, we should not be assigned AFAB or AMAB to begin with, and we should all be able to use the language we feel suits us best. If you are both trans and a woman, it does seem like it makes sense to call yourself a transwoman, doesn’t it? Even if you were AFAB?

But let’s have nuance, please. Let’s start by acknowledging this: a world in which our AGABs have no impact on our social roles / perceptions / interactions is NOT a world we live in yet. No matter how badly we may want to simply be feminine and masculine and androgynous and outside of connection to a binary system and AGABs entirely, we have NOT achieved that sort of liberation. To pretend we have- to act as if your AGAB has no impact on the way you are perceived and treated- is an extremely privileged game of imagination.

The most common argument I have seen from AFABs using transfem / transwoman language for themselves is that they are someone who is both, by all definitions, transgender and a woman. This may be because they previously transitioned into manhood or transmasculinity, and did not identify as a woman or as feminine at all during that time, but now, for whatever reason, have started identifying as a woman / feminine again. Or they may be a person who identifies with any variation of non-binary woman, bigender, genderfluid, genderqueer, demigirl, etc. Any identity which is either “I used to not be a woman, but am a woman now,” or “I am a woman, and another gender or lack thereof, too.”

I understand. In whatever version of this scenario, they are both transgender or have transitioned at some point, and are currently feminine or a woman. It does really sound like transfem or transwoman should be the correct language to use in this scenario!

I am non-binary, transmasc, and was indeed AFAB. I get it. I am transgender. I am not a woman, but I am also, sometimes, a woman. I am transgender and I am a woman. And I spent years of my life fighting against femininity, only to find that finally being allowed to be openly masculine has helped me embrace femininity again. It seems this is not an uncommon experience. But I am not now, and never will be, a transwoman.

Because the word transwoman has very, very specific meaning. “Meanings can change,” and “words have more than one meaning,” you say? Yes, that is true! And it should be! Change and embracing of nuance is so important to our community. And nobody should be policing the language anybody else uses.

But that being said, please. Embrace this nuance, if you are so passionate about words having it. People who were AMAB and are women have extremely different experiences than people who were AFAB and are still / are again, in whatever form for whatever reason, women or feminine.

Being a woman who was AMAB has unique culture, intersectionality, and vulnerability. Countless transwomen have asked people who were AFAB not to use the language of actual transfemininity, because it is such a different experience than being trans and feminine separately. Let me make this clear.

People who were AFAB are expected to be and rewarded for being women. If we perform womanhood in an unpalatable way, yes, we do experience misogyny. If we are also transgender, yes, we do experience transphobia. But neither of these things, even when experienced at the same time, are the same as transmisogyny, which can only be experienced by people who were AMAB.

This is because of the patriarchy. Gender Issues 101. Manhood and masculinity are seen as the ultimate power. Womanhood and femininity, as less. So, yeah, I get your confusion here. People who were AFAB, especially if they are also trans or are women or feminine in the “wrong” way, will indeed always be seen as lesser than men, for the fact of being AFAB alone! Absolutely nobody is saying that misogyny and transphobia against AFAB people are not massively violent forces in this world. Nobody is saying people who were AFAB have it “easy!”

But again, again again- people who were AMAB and are women experience a form of violence and hate very different from the kind we as AFAB people do. You know as well as I do that the patriarchy does not view women who were AMAB as actual women. It instead views them as failed men. And to those indoctrinated, that is a crime worse than womanhood. It is the ultimate insult: “They are not women. They are clearly not men, either. They are third. Other.”

AFAB people who are trans or perceived as “failed women,” no matter our actual or internal connection with femininity or womanhood, are viewed by society negatively, yes, but not as third or Other. Because, despite the wording, “failed women” are still actually viewed as women. This is because the patriarchy views people who were AFAB as inherently flawed by mere circumstance of birth. We are inherently capable of failure, because we have already failed by not being born cis men… And cis men, on the other hand, are viewed as ideal, perfect, god-like, and thus not capable of failure at all.

Let me reiterate. Due to transphobia and the rigid structure of gender within the patriarchy, when people who were AMAB declare “I am a not a man,” they are denied the status of woman. But, due to misogyny and the position of men as supreme, flawless beings within the patriarchy, when people who were AMAB respond by saying “I am a woman,” they are also denied the status of man. It is this also which is so significant. They are viewed by the patriarchy as Other in a way that people who were AFAB never will be, because we will always just be viewed as women, which is at least human.

The fact that people who are AFAB will only ever be viewed as woman is a separate issue, with separate conversation around it. Because I understand, as one of them, that we may identify with a concept of thirdness and of Otherness. We, like women who were AMAB, are not men! We feel a kinship there!

But I think I have explained well why our experience of Otherness is not the same as Otherness experienced by transwomen who were AMAB. No matter how deeply we feel third, Other, different, strange, weird? Even if this is, from the depth our soul and core of our being, not how we want to be treated? Society is still willing to view us, at the very least, no matter how much we hate it, as women. Which, like I said, is at least one way to be seen as human.

Women who were AMAB, however, are only ever treated as Other. Not even as human beings. Do you see how this is different? Do you see how this is worse?

The two questions we are trying to answer in this post are, first, why is it wrong that some people who were AFAB want to call themselves trans women or trans feminine? Which leads us to, second, why would they want to in the first place?

Transwomen who were coercively assigned male at birth are, in fact, women. They are not Other. They are not third. They are human beings and the patriarchy is wrong. I know this. The wider queer community claims to know this, too.

But we must not let our desire to affirm transwomen in their womanhood cloud our eyes to the fact that the vast majority of the world still holds extremely violent and dangerous mentality towards them.

When people who were AFAB use the language of transwoman, transfem, and transgirl for themselves, they are equating their experiences to that of AMAB people. They are, in a way, fetishizing transwomanhood. They are saying, “I have seen those called transwomen also called weird, and strange, and third, and Other. I feel that way myself, sometimes. Words like ‘genderqueer’ and ‘genderfluid’ and ‘bigender’ and ‘demigirl’ and etc., though perfectly established and expressive of my gender, do not express to others the quality of inhumanity which I feel I am a victim of. They do not express my uniqueness. But transwomen are seen as inhuman, and unique in their suffering. I am going to associate my feeling of inhumanity with their word, too. I am going to make sure this association continues, so that my pain is acknowledged, too.”

It is a violent co-opting of language. It is self-victimization. It is denial of differing axises of oppression. You are allowed to hurt, to feel Other, and denied of your humanity. But what reason do you have to equate your experience of hurt with a more marginalized group’s oppression, besides selfishness? Especially when you have been asked, repeatedly, to stop.

This behavior creates an unsafe environment for actual transwomen, who deserve community with people who acknowledge the unique experience of transfemininity! Who should be able to comfortably find other actually transfeminine people to make friends with and confide in! Who should be allowed to have their own spaces, communities, and safety nets!

Transfeminine people deserve security. Sorry for the word play, but I literally cannot imagine anything more insecure than stealing language from transwomen.

[the-delta-quadrant]

6 things i learned in 6 years of being out as nonbinary

1. not all nonbinary gender is derived from male or female.

i used to have a very simplified understanding of the gender spectrum as a triangle with the corners being male, female and agender and you could slide around on the sides or in the middle. gender is much, much bigger than that and learning that was an important lesson for both my own self-discovery as a maverique and my understanding of other people's experiences.

2. a lot of trans & nonbinary people still hold on to gender-related binaries.

somehow i wasn't aware of this until 3-4 years ago (ignorance was bliss!), but gender-related binaries are really common even in spaces that pride themselves in breaking them. male- and female-aligned used to be very common, classifying especially nonbinary people by AGAB still happens constantly, transmasc and transfem are being treated like a binary and people created a men vs non-men binary 2 years ago. we can't escape binaries even in our own communities.

3. there are a lot of people who treat nonbinary as a blank slate to project whatever is convenient to their argument on.

i'm nonbinary until i disagree, suddenly i'm a man. i'm nonbinary until i'm openly asexual, suddenly i'm a cishet female invader. nonbinary is not a single third gender, it's man-life or woman-lite. but actually nonbinary men and women don't exist, because the only way to be nonbinary is to be neither.

4. nearly every single nonbinary term either gets rebinarised or a lot of hate.

transgender used to be a term that mainly described people who we'd now call nonbinary, yet it now has a pretty binary connotation with nonbinary people still being pushed out on a regular basis. genderqueer was an earlier term for nonbinary, but binary people decided it wasn't inclusive enough if it didn't include them. people are trying to turn nonbinary into an ideology that binary people can follow rather than an identity. people hate the word enby because it gives us even the tiniest bit of legitimacy that is given to men and women by default. people lose their shit about labels that describe attraction to nonbinary people because apparently we're not a valid group of people to feel attraction towards.

5. binarism doesn't describe a general antinonbinary sentiment, but specifically bigotry against cultural genders.

we have the terms sexism, ableism, racism, classism, so it would only make sense that bigotry against nonbinary people would be called binarism, right? wrong. binarism is a form of colonial violence that frames the western gender binary as the only real gender system, and punishes cultures that recognise more than two genders. the -ism term for nonbinaryantagonism would be exorsexism.

6. binary people are gonna think you're a cringey weirdo no matter what you do, so you might as well prove them right.

no matter how palatable we try to be, at the end of the day they hate us all.

[sleeplesssmoll]

Reverse 1999 Theory: What is "Perception" and how does it work in arcanists?

Vertin canonically has uncanny perception and a deep understanding for arcanum even amongst arcanists, despite her lack of skill. Arcanists are very sensitive, or rather, vulnerable to emotions. There is another arcanist known for her perception we can look at for more clues.

Mesmer Jr. also has a "acute perception", much like Vertin.

In Reverse 1999, Perception functions like a 6th sense in arcanists. But how does it work? I looked up to see if there is a connection between magnetic fields and emotions. Turns out there is A LOT. Specifically the magnetic field radiated by the heart.

Biomagnetic Communication Between People (source).

We have found there is a direct relationship between the heart-rhythm patterns and the spectral information encoded in the frequency spectra of the magnetic field radiated by the heart. Thus, information about a person’s emotional state is encoded in the heart’s magnetic field and is communicated throughout the body and into the external environment.

There is so much cool information in this article I'd love to gush about, but we're here for lore. Remember my psychube post that I never shut up about? It's actually missing very important information that I didn't add at the time because I could not figure out how it worked.

Polarization:

The different frequencies are triggered by different kinds of emotions and we can see the heart being affected by the electromagnetic fields. My theory is that this is the key to arcanist perception. This is how they "sense" emotions. They are picking up on these frequencies. For a real life example from the same article, look at these graphs showing how the influence of emotions:

Most people tend to think of communication solely in terms of overt signals expressed through facial movements, voice qualities, gestures and body movements. However, evidence now supports the perspective that a subtle yet influential electromagnetic or "energetic" communication system operates just below our conscious level of awareness. The following section will discuss data that suggests this energetic system contributes to the "magnetic" attractions or repulsions that occur between individuals.

Arcanists sense these waves and it can cause distress in them. Mesmer Jr. is a prime example of this. Other people's emotions get to her.

Now how does this tie into our beloved Timekeeper?

What if the reason Vertin has to stay "stoic" is because her emotions can influence the others around her and because she is extra susceptible to other people's incoming emotions. She needs to stay calm even in mental distress. Mesmer Jr. is also like this. She may come off as abrasive and snappy at times but she is described as a "an indifferent and refined machine" (Chapter 3: An Opened Sandwich). These two share a lot in common. They are both victims of trauma yet must operate in many emotionally taxing positions.

They even say "engraved in the heart" (although this could simply be word choice it really fits)!

Both Vertin and Mesmer Jr. struggle everyday to keep the their feelings at bay. Neither of them is "used" to this life but they have to keep up the facade for their sake and possibly for those around them.

The main story doesn't give us as much insight into Vertin's head but the traces do. She is always holding back, just like Mesmer.

Side note, do you remember the heartbeat we heard as Schneider was reversed? It raced. Interesting how later Schneider shows up in one of her dreams during Artificial Somnambulism. This could be an example of HF Polarization which generates strong and temporary mental images with very powerful emotions.

This also adds an extra layer to Vertin's interactions with others. She tried to get through to Druvis and Schneider, but as for Forget-me-not and Arcana, she didn't bother. Maybe their feelings of revenge and hatred are so tangible she knew it was lost cause. However, Druvis was laden with grief and loss. She was not a malicious person. Schneider was desperate and motivated by love for her family. Vertin even mentions she knew Madam Z was not part of Constantine's game by the "look in her eyes" and never blamed her for the loss of her friends.

If anything seems wrong or if I missed something, please let me know! I'd be happy if I could refine it further.

[vigilskeep]

omg thank you for the support... feeling emboldened to return and be gay in your inbox but i was just thinking about how neve might actually feel a bit put off by a more uncaring/cold assassin rook. she has that conversation with harding in the ign gameplay where she says that authorities being corrupt is how she is employed essentially, but given her character descriptions, i feel like she very much does care a lot and corruption is something she Really Wants To Fix, Actually. but authorities being corrupt is actually great for business for an assassin. i mean lucanis was literally introduced to us as "the magekiller" and one thing we know about him is he specifically targets corrupt magisters. like taking down corrupt officials is definitely great for neve, but i feel very interested in the toxic yuri potential of her butting heads with someone who doesn't care about saving the world beyond putting down an obvious threat because their background relies very much on the world being broken. if this makes sense? femme fatale rook also adds an extra level of distrust which is fun! but there's also so much yuri development potential here... learning to care through neve or rook always secretly caring and neve bringing that out in them. cynic4cynic and all that. this doesn't have to be about a romantic relationship either, it's interesting to me even for a platonic neve/rook relationship!

and this also could be a potential point of contention for neve and lucanis, depending on his own world views. this group being referred to as a found family makes the idea of them not getting along (at first at least) pretty interesting to me LMAO anyway yeah if lucanis shares this kind of view then it really is as you said: (crow rook voice) no lucanis you're not insane. and neither am i.

SORRY FOR THIS. but also thank you for supporting the lesbianism.

YES...

the thing that i certainly believe about neve is what’s been emphasised over and over in marketing: she’s a cynic, but a cynic with a heart of gold. she may be our hard-boiled detective who’s seen the worst of people and the worst of her city, but that’s never made her love her city any less or fight for it any less. she’s intensely idealistic in her ambitions and her commitment to the job, putting her own comfort aside to doggedly pursue any mystery she’s taken on.

i think that conflicts delightfully with an assassin who is more self-preserving in what they are willing to take on and has no such high ideals or sense of community, but has it in common with neve that they’ve come face to face in the same way with the worst of people. they could make each other better—neve could definitely stand to take better care of herself and perhaps even take more direct action, and this type of crow rook could probably do with a moral or two beyond World Destruction Is Bad—or worse! i really like your read on crow rook being dependent on the world being broken, and corruption being good for business. i also think the kind of worldview that the crows teach is that nothing ever really can change. it doesn’t matter what you do or who you kill, because someone just as corrupt will always take their place. there are no moral obligations because there is no fixing the world even if you did try. i’d be so curious to see neve’s impact on that... whether she could get them to believe in something, or their jaded outlook would rub off on her

neve definitely has trust issues and high walls up for whatever reason (i still believe in venatori ex-husband theory) so i love the idea here of really playing into that and making a rook she actually shouldn’t trust. i love that for you. yeah why put this all on her. why make anything easy

i’m definitely interested in lucanis and neve’s dynamic. they have a lot of similar worldviews when it comes to, say, the venatori, but i wonder if neve necessarily approves of lucanis’, uh... impulsive and destructive approach, to dealing with that kind of problem. or if lucanis’ sympathies necessarily mean he takes the shadow dragons’ chances of achieving anything seriously. super excited to see them interact

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Second Chance 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Jonathan Pine

Summary: You move into your parents’ house as you try to rebuild your life, catching the attention of someone you never expected.

Part of the Brother’s Best Friend Universe

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The next day, you acquiesce to your mother’s whims. There was rarely a time when you could deny her and the times you did, had her often reminding you of your ‘rebellious’ teenage years. You don’t bother to mention that wearing black and not wanting to hold her hand in public wasn’t much of a rebellion.

You just have to remember that this isn’t about you. Tandi doesn’t yet know the storm she’s marrying into. You’ll let her have her grace period before it truly sets in. It could be seconds, it could be months, but eventually, your mother will turn the screw.

You walk behind the pair through the crowded rows of the farmer’s market. They almost seem to forget you but that doesn’t bother you. You prefer it.

They stop at the soap booth and the battle of scent threatens to trigger a migraine. You hold your breath until Tandi finishes her purchase; some body scrub and a piece of soap that looks like a fruit parfait. Your mother opts for her own collection of cinnamon heart soap bars. You wonder where she’ll hide them as she only ever allowed white items in the bathroom; down to the soap and the shampoo.

“Do you have friends coming for the party then?” Your mother asks as they stroll along.

“Uh, yes, hopefully they can make it,” Tandi answers, “work and all that.”

“Of course, that’s understandable but it’s a very important event,” your mother chirps back, “do you have something to wear? You would look marvelous in rose.”

“I have some options,” your brother’s fiancee flick her hair back. “I was thinking it might be nice to do a brunch, rather than a dinner.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. And of course,” your mother pauses, peering back over her shoulder as she recalls your mournful existence, “we can help.”

“That’s so sweet,” Tandi purrs.

“Well, you know, we haven’t much going on.”

You frown. It’s an obvious jab at your current predicament. It isn’t as if you haven’t been trying. You filled every open job posting you can find and haven’t heard back from a single one. Yet, your mother would never believe you to be helpless, just lazy.

“I’m going to find the bathroom,” you mutter but neither seems to hear or care.

You break away from them and delve into the crowd. You feel desolate in the roiling crowd. You don’t miss Ransom, or Hugh, or whatever he wanted you to call him that day, you just miss having someone else. Someone by your side to face the outside world. 

He never really was that, was he? You just convinced yourself he was. He settled for you and you thought that was good enough. You made yourself believe you were good enough.

You find the bathrooms and hide inside. You don’t need to go, you just need to get your shit together. You take out your phone and put on your rationed data so you can check your emails. Junk, junk, junk… ‘Invitation to Interview’. Huh.

You quickly scroll and scan the email, not wanting to waste the data. It’s nothing special, nothing as glorious as your previous job. It’s a customer service role at the local travel planner, a vibrant business among the burgeoning retirement community. It’ll have to do.

You flip the switch to disconnect from the network and emerge to wash your hands. You make your way back into the market and search among the tides. You wander in circles until you find the duo. They sit at the cafe bar in the corner, drinks in front of them, and a set of half-eaten scones. They didn’t wait for you or even think to grab you something.

You shrug it off. You think you might have been wrong. Again. Your mother isn’t going to bulldoze this daughter, no, Tandi is going to be the daughter she never had. Jaydon always was her favourite; the infallible baby boy.

💋

You accept the invitation. The pay is barely above minimum wage and the role is tedious but it’s all you’ve got. You don’t tell your parents, not wanting to disappoint them. It would be better to surprise them with good news, not let them down with another failure.

You find the nicest skirt you could salvage in your hasty retreat from the city. You sneak out through the back as the rest of the house delights in their perfect fairy tale. You’d rather have a stuffy interview than to bear another day of fake smiling and dulled blades aimed at your throat.

The agency isn’t very far. The bus takes you to the core of the town and your heels click down the half-block to the storefront painted with palm trees and beach umbrellas. You peek inside before you enter and check the information on your phone just to be sure. You’re early.

A woman named Brenda greets you and tells you to wait in the seats meant for clients. You fidget as the clock ticks in the quiet office until she finishes with the old couple at her desk in the tight cubicle. They leave, happy, and she invites you back.

It isn’t anything beyond the usual; what will you bring to this job? When’s a time you had to be spontaneous? How would you handle a disgruntled customer? You recite the acceptable answers and at the end, she offers you the job. You don’t think it’s because you’re anything exceptional but judging by the two-hundred days the posting’s been up, there hasn’t been much interest. You both are ready to take the first thing that comes along.

She sends you off with a smile and you try not to let your fake one fall before you’re out of the office. Out of the sight of the windows, you let your shoulders drop and sigh. It’s good news, you got a job, but somehow you think your parents will find a damper. ‘How much does it pay? What do you do? Oh, that’s a starter job.’

Well, dad, mom, I am starting over. I fucked up. I built nothing but a disaster.

You round the corner and stumble as suddenly you hit a wall you don’t expect. You stagger until you’re caught by firm hands around your upper arms. You gulp and your eyes round as they meet another pair, blue and bold. Jonathan grins as he issues an apology and your own tumbles off your tongue.

“I wasn’t… looking,” you murmur.

“Quite alright,” his hands linger on your arms and you wriggle. “Neither was I.”

He laughs at himself and you look down at his hold on you. He squeezes before he lets go and drops his hands to his side. He tucks them into his pockets. He’s dressed effortlessly in a pair of gray slacks and powder blue pullover.

“Special occasion?” He wonders as he looks you up and down.

You peek at your skirt. It’s nothing special. Pinstripe, black, pencil cut. It doesn’t fit you the way it used to. You think Ransom noticed that too…

“Job interview,” you shrug.

“Oh, exciting. So when do you hear back?”

You rub your neck and sway. He’s just being nice. He’s always been polite, on the outside, but you saw the antics he got up to with Jaydon. He always had that charming grin for your mother but never hesitated to cause chaos with your menace of a brother.

“You don’t have to ask. Really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Mm, well, what if I genuinely want to know?” 

There he is, that oppositional twerp. You blow out between your lips and smile, “I got the job. It’s at the travel agency so… big whoop.”

“Big whoop indeed,” he remarks, “I’d say we should celebrate with a drink but I’d also say you sound like you need one. Desperately.”

You meet his eyes again. You squint. Was he always this handsome? Or is that another trick of time? You pack on some love handles and you look chronically tired, but his lines only refine him, his age becomes him.

“That’s nice but I should head home.”

“Why? So you can listen to Jay brag about his convertible? Even I’m over that. He’d do better with something economic but he always knows best, doesn’t he?”

You scoff, “wow, sounds like you had quite the reunion.”

“Well, time changes us all,” he says, “but you always were more fun to drink with.”

[wolven91]

Backyard Grill

The ursidain's mighty stomach growled in frustration.

Jimbas or 'Jim', to his human colleague, was starving! Jim liked being called Jim, it meant he was accepted by a human and acceptance by a human meant he got certain benefits. The giant creature's stomach protested again, as if saying 'where's the rest?!'. He wasn't actually starving. Oh sure, the ursidain known as Jim got what was required from the ship canteen each day in the form of three flat meals that totalled the calorie content that his kind needed to maintain themselves, but by the deep forest, in his opinion this stuff would barely fed a sparrow! Jim stroked a broad tongue over the long-emptied plate. If he closed his eyes, he could still taste the meal.

Jim's look of misery was removed when he opened his big brown, but sad eyes and saw Uncle Rich walking up.

Uncle Rich was a human and was neither Jimbas's uncle, nor, to Jim's knowledge, was the uncle to any of the other aliens aboard the Community ship. But nonetheless, everyone called him their 'uncle'. As a guest and part of the 'Guardian Initiative' program, Jimbas was assigned to Uncle Rich so he had a partner through all this and a mentor to learn from. Jimbas honestly had found he had learnt more from Uncle Rich than he suspected Uncle Rich had from him. The ursidain now knew how to open a bottle of 'beer' with another bottle of 'beer' now.

Uncle Rich had been more than welcoming and had ensured Jim that the human was grateful for the guardian's assistance. Not that it seemed it was needed, without exception the human had taken to the stars with ease and a warm smile.  Even when meeting the other races, in most cases he'd been openly welcoming.

There was a bit of a culture clash, his eating habits and what he considered appropriate with regards to weight. To an Ursidain, it was important to keep a high body fat percentage or at least enough muscle to keep the pounds on. It was a mark of success and of readiness of the person. A very common saying amongst the 'bear people' as his human colleague would often call them, was "I'll survive the winter." It meant you were ready and in the best shape you could be.

The human, in contrast, actively avoided taking second helpings. Even when he gave the ursidain serving a wink and a smile, he would decline two ladles of food rather than the assigned one each. It was odd, so very very odd. But when Jim had asked Uncle Rich if he didn't enjoy eating, the human laughed! He gave the far larger alien a knowing look, an elbow to the gut and promised that he'd see what 'good eating' was soon.

Jim was very confused that day. Today however, Uncle Rich had a pep in his step and practically ran to Jim's table before skidding to a stop, with a wide knowing grin.

"Good news! We'll be planet side in the next few hours!"

"That is good news!" Jim paused, scratched a meaty paw against his skull has he thought, before adding; "Why is that good news?"

"My folks have already got everything prepared and are camped out in a field as we speak. We've got permission take the skiff and land almost on top of them." The jolly human declared in a whisper so that no one around could hear them. There was a moment as Jimbas turned that statement over in his head. It didn't make sense. His folks? Other humans?!

Jim looked him over once more; the rough grey fur that sprouted from his chin and head gave him a 'wise' air. Uncle Rich was well respected and often took on the task of resolving personal issues between the crew long before they made their way into the chain of command. It didn't make sense, but starving or not, meeting other humans would be a pleasure and an honour!

"Mmrf... I'll be glad to have dirt under my claws again Uncle, the grating The Galactic Community enjoys on their ships is all well and good for easy repairs, but it's hell on the feet." Jim said, pressing a thick thumb into the black pads of his lower paws. Jim's stomach growled again loudly.

"Ah! I'm glad to hear you're hungry, are you going to make it another hour or two?" Uncle Rich asked with a slap against the pelt on Jimbas's back.

"Mm, it'll be touch and go, but I will do my best friend." Jim replied as he stood, his rotund belly 'popping' clear of the bench he was sat at.

At twelve feet tall, Jimbas towered over his 'Uncle', and with his body's mass, outweighed him by several degrees, but he still felt a deep connection with the human. If this was something that the other humans felt, he understood why they would consider him their 'uncle'. He would make a fine ursidain... if he put on a few pounds.

Hours later, when Jim stepped off the Skiff's ramp he sighed as he felt the dirt compress under him and rise up between his claws. The ursidain flexed his toes with his eyes closed and sighed with content. The breeze carried the smell of meats Jimbas didn't recognise, they were cooking and smelt delicious.

His stomach reminded him of its existence. The huge creature felt a light backhanded swat against the side of his belly from Uncle Rich who strolled past laughing. It took a moment for the ripples across his flab to settle down even with his paws held against himself.

"Common then! I want to show you a 'proper' meal!" Called the human who was being tackled by other humans. The ursidain allowed a subtle eye roll to the human's back, like a human would know a 'proper' meal.

Jimbas expected to be sorely disappointed by the size of everything. He made a point to only nibble, he didn't want to be rude to the humans. The ursidain doubted that even a family of humans could create enough food to satisfy a fully grown ursid-.

His thoughts derailed as he truly focused on the small crowd of similar looking humans. 

They had several coolers opened and a grill larger than some of the fully installed kitchen units Jim had seen in his time amongst the stars. The coolers were near-overflowing with raw meat of various shapes, colours and sorts. The grill was practically groaning under the weight of the meat that was sizzling away on the bars. 

And the smell.

Oh the smell! 

"Hey! Hey! Jim! Ya' drooled on me! God.." Uncle Rich bemoaned, wiping at his shoulder which now sported a dark wet line down his chest, he stomped off towards the family who, on noticing his shirt, began laughing and calling the giant bear over. 

Jimbas was 'subjected' to the first challenge for his stomach that he'd experienced since leaving his home planet. He ended up sat next to an extremely old human who seemed to believe he was looking 'thin' despite never having met the woman before this day. His plate was piled high while the rest of the family tucked into their own meals. 

When he finally saw his plate once more, it was snatched away, refilled and returned with neary a question. 

Eventually a younger member of the extended family, currently nibbling on a sausage skewed on the end of a fork, explained. 

"Uncle Rich sent us a message last month; said you were always hungry. Grandma took that as a challenge."

Every steak, every sausage, every burger, breast and thigh, made the ursidain's jowls drool as a never-ending torrent. He first tried to eat slowly, but the spices, the sauce rubs and salts that were liberally applied left him desperate for another bite, again and again. 

It was evening by the time the bear had to hold up a paw in defeat.

"Please... I beg of.. Mercy." He deferred his pleading to the old crone of the table, who allowed a slight smile to tug at the edge of her mouth. 

Jimbas eventually found himself belching to the delight of the children, flat on his back. The echoes of his powerful expulsion of air caused ripples of the glowing insects to dance up around them. He had to admit discomfort from the children that sat upon his overstuffed belly. Not once in his life had he been overfed before...

An unforeseen outcome occurred thanks to this event. 

Shortly after returning to the ship, Jimbas met up with an ursidain ship, his old ship and crew! His extra inches that were added to his waistline were immediately noted by his 'former' crew. News travelled quickly back to ursidain territories, all the way back to the capital world; Source.

The ursidains had learnt that humans could cook. The race was on, to find more humans!

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position Prologue

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo x OFC

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

In ballroom dance, the closed position is one of the most common in which partners face each other, typically offset, in an embrace that may vary slightly for each style of dance being performed. This position enables partners to provide the necessary physical contact and support to lead and follow. Increased body contact is encouraged because it allows for a deepened connection and furthers the use of touch to communicate. Another way for partners to establish a deepened connection is eye contact. Eye contact allows each of the dancers to anticipate and synchronize with the other’s movements. The stronger the eye contact and non-verbal communication, the more effortless and intense the performance will appear to be.

Because of the physical closeness and emotionally charged environment, ballroom dance can be an oddly intimate experience that requires a high level of trust between partners. It’s easy to understand why it’s heavily romanticized. For some, it’s not unusual that it may lead to feelings that extend beyond the dance floor.

In my line of work on a nationally televised tv show, I’m placed with a new partner every season. None of which I’ve ever actually achieved a real connection with (on or off the dance floor). It’s always very formal and instructional. Strictly a student learning from their teacher type of experience. The student (or celebrity in this case) is there for the purpose of winning the dance competition and any notoriety that comes with it. I’m there to teach them how to reach their goal and nothing more. I was, after all, in a sometimes-happy long-term relationship that I was not looking to jeopardize.

Everything changed the day Dieter Bravo waltzed into the dance studio. He was looking to repair his image and boost his career after a rumored long stint in rehab while I was simply trying to make it through my last season on the show. We were reluctant partners at first. I was aware of his bad boy reputation and didn’t want my professional image to be tarnished by his antics. He could sense my reluctance, which fueled the initial hostility between us. The hostility soon faded during our sessions as the electricity ignited. The attraction could only be ignored for so long. No one could have predicted the way our stars would eventually collide and be bound to each other’s orbit.

Next: Week 1

I included everyone who interacted with the initial teaser. Please let me know if you would like to be removed going forward.

Tag List: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @undercoverpena @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Credits: Star divider courtesy of @saradika. Support divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

[thesmollestsnek]

Today in the snek rambles about random fandom things, we have: Danny’s age! Specifically, how he ages long-term, seeing as he half-died at fourteen.

Now, a lot of the fics I see that age Danny up in some way have his human body aging, either normally or occasionally at a slower rate, and his ghost form naturally changing to mimic that. Almost as common are the fics where Danny’s human form ages while his ghost form stays at the age he died. And don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of fun to be had with both those options. I’ve seen some great fics playing with both those concepts.

…But yknow what I haven’t seen?

A fic where Danny’s ghost form is the one that ages, while his human form stays the same. Think about it, a ghost’s form is malleable, and doesn’t necessarily reflect what a person originally looked like so much as what they think they should be. This is almost alway the explanation given for Danny’s ghost form aging with him, when a fic writer decides to go that route. Ghost forms are malleable, it makes perfect sense for Danny’s Phantom form to be capable of aging, so long as Danny believes that it should be.

…but you wanna know what isn’t so malleable? A human body. And for all that Danny’s still alive, he’s also dead, and while the show seems to portray Danny and Phantom as two separate halves with little to no bleedover, fanon seems to prefer having the boundaries between death and life in one Danny Phantom be much blurrier. As do I. Danny is a human who is dead, just as Phantom is a ghost who is alive. Both and neither at the same time. And while living humans age, dead ones don’t.

So. When Danny walked into the portal, he died. And regardless of how you want to argue semantics of resurrection and was there a brief period of time when he was only dead and he was also alive when he left the portal, he did die and a part of him stayed dead. Meaning that, by some definitions, his human body can be considered a corpse. And corpses don’t age.

Just, imagine the potential angst there, of Danny realizing, a year or two or three after the accident that no, he’s not just a late bloomer. He’s just. Not. Aging. And never will again, at least as a human. How long did it take him to recognize that fact? …how long did it take for him to realize that he can never seamlessly blend into human society again? His Phantom form is obviously not human, and his human one will never make it past fourteen.

…But then, his ghost form is still aging, it never stopped even after he noticed that the two forms no longer look the same. Even after he accepts that Danny Fenton will never make it past fourteen. There’s a part of him that recognizes that he’s still alive and that he should be aging, so Phantom grows up even though Fenton never will.

Which, if you’re inclined to keep piling on the angst, can also serve to isolate him from ghost society. A being of change trying to fit into a community of people who will forever stay the same. Preserved exactly as they were at their time of death. Except for Danny. Who’s still the odd one out, even in death. A ghost who’s growing up and a human who’ll forever remain a child.

…

Orrrr if you’re not in the mood for soul-crushing angst, you can also use this concept for fun and hijinks. Age Danny up a couple decades, plop him into any world with other superheroes, and watch the identity shenanigans take over. I’m especially fond of this being done with the Justice League, because he’s basically a reverse Captain Marvel. Imagine, the League finds out that their adult coworker is actually a small child masquerading as a grownass man through the power of a magically aged-up superhero form and a lot of bullshit. They see that when Billy Batson is in his civilian/human form he returns to his actual age. And then they see phantom, another coworker who, when not in the form they use for heroics, physically turns into a child. And so they go “we got this, no further clarification needed.” (Spoiler alert: they do not, in fact, got this).

[irafuwas]

Twst book 7 chapter 4 babbling notes

lots of blabbering and mega spoilers after the cut

Baul

Sebek mentions that he looks quite a bit younger than he does now, but he has no doubt its grandpa baul

Sebek calls him “Baul Zigvolt”, does that mean his parents took his mom’s maiden name when they got married??

Lilia says Baul is the biggest glutton in their company

Sebek says that Baul taught him a lot growing up. He’d often buy books for Sebek, and it was him who instilled a love of reading in bekky

Just like bekky, he loves salmon

Timeline Shenanigans

In the real world, Lilia is about 700 years old and he says he received his invite to NRC over 500 years ago

In the dream, Lilia is about 300 years old

Mal is 178 years old in the real world, but at this time in Lilia’s dream, he is due to hatch in 2-3 years

Silver and Sebek notice the timeline doesn’t match up with how old mal and lilia are. Neither of them know much about Mal’s parents. Whatever happened to them wasn’t recorded in any of the books sebek read about briar valley

Fae Language

The screeching/growling sounds that the masked soldiers are making are actually an old fae language

Sebek is able to understand it (not perfectly, but he understands overall what they are saying), as his mother and grandfather taught it to him

Silver tried learning it from Lilia, but Silver’s ears couldn’t even pick out the words. Sebek said his father said the same thing. Sebek explains that compared to other animals, humans have a limited range of hearing, and since he is descended from fae, he can pick up on minute sounds that humans cannot

Languages and methods of pronunciation differ from one fae species to another, but by imbuing their voices with magic they can all communicate with one another. Presently, many of the fae in briar valley speak a common language, and not many speak the old fae languages.

Silver Owl/Iron Ones

The Silver Owl is a group of humans that invaded the Land of Briar and they are tearing up the forests, destroying the mountains, and generally making a huge mess of things as they excavate the land for magical stones, mystium, gemstones, and other resources

All the members of the group wear iron armor, and that is why the fae have taken to calling their members “the iron ones”

Lilia and the imperial guards have been struggling to drive them out of the country since there are so many of them

They arrived at ”Cape Sunrise”（? 来光岬） about a hundred years ago in just one little sailboat. Their numbers increase in the blink of an eye and they quickly surpassed the fae. They now pretty much dominate the land from the “Canyon of Screaming Winds” (?? 風鳴き渓谷) to the east

Henrick

Leader of the Silver Owl

Lilia describes him as a greedy, vulgar man who’s “big like a barrel”

Spends most of his time relaxing at the fortress and rarely comes out

Knight of Dawn

Commanding officer of the Silver Owl’s guards

An expert swordsman with white armor and golden hair. Even lilia recognizes his strength (though they’ve never fought)

Even the followers of the night fear him

He is said to be very beautiful

He spends most of his time defending the fortress and doesn’t come out west much

He wears a helmet almost all the time. Lilia’s never seen his face

General Vanrouge

Uses 俺 for his first-person pronoun instead of わし like he does now

He says his sense of taste is very sensitive and he can tell right away if something weird has been added to a dish

Says he is about 300 years old

He was an orphan and Queen Maleficia took him in

He thinks that Silver and Co. are envoys from NRC trying to get him to enroll at the school

At one point, Grim whines for some fruit growing high up in a tree, and Lilia uses his magic to get it down without making a sound (there were enemy soldiers in the area). He says he’s only ever missed once when he set his eyes on a target, but doesn’t answer what that was when Sebek asks

While on their way to the fortress, some fae kids recognize Lilia and call out to him. He calls them annoying brats and basically tells them to scram. But the kids say they want to protect the country together with Lilia, and he smirks and lightens up.

At one point he kicks Silver and sends him flying, and Silver falls right in front of some Silver Owl soldiers passing by. They think that Silver must’ve been held prisoner by the fae and that he had escaped and they stop to help him, and then Lilia and the others attack while they’re distracted

One time, when he, Levan, and Mallenoa were kids, they got lost in the forest after getting caught up in another one of Mallenoa’s whims. This was back when they couldn’t fly very well, and there was a thick fog in the forest, and they couldn’t find the way home. Levan was freaking out but Mallenoa was having a great time. The next morning the imperial guards came and found them. Even though they went out there per Mallenoa’s suggestion, Lilia was the one who got an earful for it

They come to a deserted town and recuperate in one of the abandoned homes. They find some spinning wheels, a doll on the floor, and marks on the wall where someone was getting their height measured every year. Lilia scoffs at the mess the kids that lived there must have made. He figures that once Mallenoa’s egg hatches he’s probably going to get babysitting duty shoved on him and be made to clean up after the kid. He says just thinking about it makes him sick. He says he hates children, they’re loud, do what they want, and always cry, and worst of all, they’re weak. He says the thought of having to look after a creature that gets worn out so easily sends a shiver down his spine. Sebek suggests that perhaps Lilia’s mind will change someday, and that he might like to have a family of his own in the future. But Lilia looks at him like he’s grown two heads and says he has no intention of ever running a household. He murmurs, “Until now, and from now on, I…” but doesn’t finish the thought.

Mallenoa (? マレノア)

Queen Maleficia’s one and only daughter and the Lady of Briar Castle (?野ばら城) (To this, Silver gets confused and says “Briar Castle? Not the royal castle in the Dragon Capitol City/Imperial City(?竜の港), Black Scale Castle” (???黒鱗城))

She commands the imperial guards and is the “keystone of the country’s defense”

She ordered Lilia and the guards to deliver a written ultimatum to the Silver Owl demanding they cease their insolent actions at once.

Other delegates have been sent to deliver demands to the silver owl’s fortress before, but one by one they went missing. So instead of having lilia’s company just fly to the fortress, she told them to go on foot and search for the missing delegates and rout any silver owl members along the way

Lilia says she is a tomboy, quarrelsome, hot tempered, and selfish. He calls her the Land of Briar’s most disastrous princess. He says ever since he’s been conscious of his surroundings he’s been wrapped around her little finger for the past 300 years

Levan (? レヴァーン)

Mal’s dad and Mallenoa’s husband. He was an aristocrat and served as the Land of Briar’s diplomat. Title is 龍眼公　(Lit. dragon eye Lord/duke).

His whereabouts are unknown

Tamago-Sama (😭)

in the dream, Mal is currently an egg and is due to hatch in 2-3 years

Dragon eggs will not hatch without their parent’s love and magic poured/concentrated/flowing into them

Silver

He says he doesn’t have his sleeping problems when he is within a dream. He never suddenly falls asleep or anything like he normally does when awake

He says his father brought him to lots of different magical healers growing up but none of them could find out what was wrong and they would all throw in the towel in the end

The silver owl soldiers keep mistaking Silver for somebody else. One knight asks if Silver is here to save them, another says he feels like he recognizes silver from somewhere. Based on the way they address him, whoever they are mistaking him for is someone socially superior to them

At one point, the darkness appears, and silver’s ring starts to glow. The light from the ring dispels the darkness

Lady Leah (? レイア)

Henrick’s little sister

Its rumored that she is in love with the knight of dawn

Ending Scene

The Silver Owl fortress is empty when the group arrives. The door closes behind them and an armored device starts attacking them

After they defeat the device, a fae messenger arrives letting them know that the Briar Castle is under attack by the Silver Owl. Both Henrick and the Knight of Dawn are leading the charge

[lassieposting]

So like. I've seen plenty of posts discussing CatNap's death scene, the Prototype's involvement, and whether CatNap was betrayed by his mentor or willingly sacrificed himself, but there's one detail that nobody seems to be talking about. So imma bring it up, because it's relevant, it's important, to the point that we might actually only be seeing half the interaction between them.

Prototype is telepathic.

Or at least, he's something similar. It's strongly hinted at throughout his story:

Prototype manages to befriend Theo, despite the fact that he's kept locked in the labs under constant surveillance. Theo's artwork implies he believed Prototype lived under his bed. It also shows that he was - at least partially - aware of what Prototype looked like, as he drew an accurate representation of Prototype's mechanical arm. So how were they communicating? Likely via telepathy, with Prototype reaching out to Theo from the confines of his cell, and possibly projecting an image of himself for Theo to interact with. Theo feels safe with the fearsome-looking Prototype when they meet in person, which would suggest that Prototype is, by then, a familiar face.

Prototype's influence is clear in the video tapes, such as the instructions for moving a Bigger Bodies toy or the Emergency Alert video - he overrides the original content with new instructions like "RELEASE THE GIANT" or "OPEN THE DOORS. THE HOUR OF JOY IS NOW." And it's implied that this "tampering" came hand-in-hand with some kind of telepathic hold on the Playtime workers - they do release Kissy, against all common sense, despite the original instructions being visible beneath Prototype's override, and at the cost of their lives. It makes me think that the "tampering" is actually more of a side effect - that the control Prototype is projecting is so strong that he affects not only the minds of the workers he's targeting, but also any communication media within range - the messages on the VHS tapes are the orders he was pushing into their brains, flash-framed on film. Perhaps, if a worker had picked up a phone to call for help, they would only have heard a cacophony of voices insisting release the giant release the giant release the giant.

DogDay mentions that he and the other Smiling Critters - minus CatNap - "tried to resist [Prototype's] control". It's said in a way that suggests that Bigger Bodies who weren't fully on board with the Hour of Joy were... let's say "encouraged"...to participate, willing or no, via a helpful jolt of Assuming Direct Control. Given how docile she is most of the time, this could also be true of Kissy, who we see joining in with the massacre.

At the end of Chapter Three, the player joins Poppy on an elevator to go confront the Prototype in his lair. Which is weird, because...we know he's not in his lair. We've just seen him kill CatNap, and by this point we know he's likely been tailing us for a while. The Player would know, as they got onto that elevator, that Prototype can follow them down and trap them. But they say nothing to Poppy, their apparent ally. They don't warn her. Why? Maybe Prototype isn't letting them. If he could reach Theo in Playcare from the labs, deep in the bowels of the factory, it's not unreasonable to suggest that he's also in our head, subtly monitoring our thoughts, gently nudging away any desire to raise concerns with Poppy - who, as we know, wants Prototype dead.

So anyway: we know that Prototype has some variety of telepathy. And we know he has a preexisting connection with Theo - now CatNap.

Now, onto the actual death.

Lots of people have already covered the popular theories - that CatNap willingly offered himself to his god, and that CatNap believed the Prototype had come to save him and was cruelly betrayed. But honestly, on first watching, neither of those were the vibe I got. So I'm gonna throw my theories into the ring.

1) CatNap's death was a mercy kill

The first was that it was a mercy kill. CatNap is, at the end of the chapter, electrocuted to the point of collapse, and then horribly burned. There are no scientists left who can tend to the injuries of a Bigger Body creature. CatNap would be in horrifying pain, and if - as I've theorized here - Prototype all but raised CatNap, it could be that the death he provides is intended to put a quick end to CatNap's suffering. A mortally wounded apex predator will often become the target of groups of smaller, subordinate predators - like the swarming Critters in CatNap's territory - once they are dying and unable to defend themselves. Severing the spinal cord and targeting the brain would take away the pain, and make sure the death was as close to immediate as possible. If he'd wanted to hurt or punish CatNap, he could very easily have done so in a far more agonizing way - Miss Delight says that CatNap reports to Prototype, so they seem to be in relatively regular contact with each other and CatNap has few or no reservations about entering Prototype's territory to see him.

From this perspective, it also becomes interesting that Prototype reaches down to CatNap through a vent it's highly unlikely he could fit into, rather than fully appearing in front of us. Bearing in mind their mental connection, left open in the background of their minds, this could actually be seen as Prototype having an understandable and realistic caregiver panic response to CatNap's sudden, all-consuming agony - he wants to get to CatNap as quickly as possible, and he's picked a physically problematic route because it's faster.

2) CatNap's death was the Prototype fixing a problem he created

It's a sad truth that our children - or, in the Prototype's case, the young friend he assumed responsibility for - don't always grow into people we're proud of.

I've talked before about the Prototype's "parenting" as a positive influence on CatNap, and in several ways, it is - relative to the world they're trapped in.

CatNap is spared from the utter social isolation other experiments endure - he has Prototype to play and socialise with, which allows him to grow up with improved social skills and better ability to read people.

CatNap has a protector during the early years of the food shortage, once the toys begin turning on one another. Theo is shy and gentle, not naturally inclined to violence, so Prototype's protection probably shields him from becoming someone else's lunch at least once.

CatNap has someone to teach him to fend for himself. While Prototype's digestive system is vestigial - he doesn't need to eat to survive - he's an accomplished killer and it seems as though CatNap learned many of his hunting techniques from his mentor. It's likely that he would have learned to hunt the way young animals do - at first, Prototype hunts and kills all his food for him. Then Prototype brings back mostly-dead prey for CatNap to finish off. Then CatNap starts practicing his skills on small prey under Prototype's supervision, growing in confidence and competence until he no longer needs help, and then until he's fully self-sufficient.

But let's face it, Prototype is not exactly the world's most well-adjusted or morally upstanding individual. He's been imprisoned for decades. Tortured. Experimented on. He's deeply traumatised, his worldview irrevocably twisted in the name of survival. He's got a documented history of violence and as-yet-unquantified psychic abilities - the telepathy - that could be wreaking absolute havoc on his psyche. And CatNap is a young, impressionable mind who idolises him.

Now, we don't know how Prototype feels about the cult that's sprung up around him. It's entirely possible that he's thriving on it, that he's bought into his own mystique and begun to see himself as a god with the factory as his domain. @hrhowling came up with a fantastic theory along these lines, where CatNap's death is posed as a reward for faithful service - the opportunity to become part of his god and achieve immortality. A show of favour towards a loyal high priest. And if Prototype does appreciate the worship, honestly, this seems the most likely scenario to me.

But it's also just as possible that he's...not a fan.

It's a popular theory that "Ollie" is the Prototype, known to be a vocal mimic, using a child's voice to win the Player's trust. I vibe with this theory - Ollie's speech and tone is...not quite right, and there are multiple points where he sounds like his sentences are made up of different audio clips stitched together - stitched neatly, admittedly, but stitched nonetheless. That's very similar to the way we see Prototype stitching together words in different voices in his interview tape. Ollie's stitching is far less noticeable, but Prototype has had a long time to practice, and he's using the same voice - probably Theodore Grambell's, the child he's most familiar with - so it's not as obvious.

But if Ollie is the Prototype, that sheds a very different light on his character in general. Ollie is helping the Player. Ollie is known to Poppy and Kissy as an ally. Ollie opens up about CatNap, his history with the Prototype, and expresses obvious distaste around CatNap's religious zeal and tendency to kill anyone who opposes his mentor. If Ollie is the Prototype, it seems a lot more like he's a tired old soldier who's been made the unwilling messiah of a cult driven by isolation and insanity.

To add on to this, it's notable that Prototype doesn't seem to be hostile to the other experiments. In fact, his territory would likely be the safest place in the factory for the very small toys - with CatNap grown, he has no need to hunt or eat them, and although he's quite capable of killing anything in the factory, he seems to have no interest in attacking other Bigger Body apex predators. MLL openly hates and fears him, but Prototype has let her be for ten years, only coming to claim her once she's killed. He's openly benevolent to Huggy and CatNap. The only place we ever know him to have aimed his violence is at the scientists tormenting him and the children.

So yeah. Maybe he actually doesn't approve of CatNap's harcore religious leanings. Maybe he's disappointed at how their relationship has shifted over the years, from friendship to surrogate family to reluctant god and fanatical high priest. Maybe he's guiding and helping the Player in the hopes of finally putting an end to their collective imprisonment and misery. And when CatNap snaps - let's be honest, he does make it clear that the Player is intruding and gives them multiple warnings and opportunities to Get Out Of His Home Or Else - and tries to kill the Player, Prototype can't let that happen. He's forced to make a horrifying choice - the kid he loves the bones of, the only friend he had at his lowest points, or the instrument of his ultimate goal.

And we know the Prototype. He's willing to do terrible things in the name of what he believes is right. He massacred innocents along with the guilty during the Hour of Joy. He tells CatNap it's okay, he's done well, he can rest now...

And he does what has to be done.

3) CatNap's death was requested by CatNap

Let's be honest. CatNap is not doing well after that confrontation. He's probably mortally wounded, and he's facing a slow and agonizing death from - if not the player - his burns or his weakness or his inability to defend his own territory. I would not be surprised if the silent conversation between him and the Prototype involved CatNap asking his idol, his god, to please make the pain stop. To end it, quickly and cleanly. I think that would be a reasonable ask from anyone covered head to toe in terrible burns. And in this scenario, knowing there is no doctor that can treat, heal or gently euthanise CatNap, it would honestly be crueller for the Prototype to refuse him.

Anyway yeah I just. Think there's a lot of missing context added by remembering that Prototype is a telepath, and there is probably a conversation going on with CatNap before he dies. So this is my take on three different ways the death scene could be read.

[fl00mie]

Bro if they have just a little milisecond gaze I’m gonna cry and trow up, Top loves he’s son like crazy I cant even imagine the pain of knowing what he has become or has done. And I don’t think ink would stand it neither, let’s remember that the only vial he has left it’s the blue one (sadnes if we consider the prism colection) so my buddy right here it’s avoiding feeling sad over he’s actions at all cost it seems. Maybe it’s actually posible they see eachother??? Since it seems in 0.7 part 2 that ink has some thing planned for the omega timeline and they are there, but who knows.

Maaaaaan ☹️

WAIT YOU'RE ACTUALLY RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING WHAT THE HELLLL LIKE imma assume those two are the canon ones in the omega timeline because there's no need (ig) to intervene with their true selves and stuff so WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT THEM REACTING TO INK IN UVS AND WHAT HE DID WOULD BE HEARTBREAKING ASF☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️😭 YET i'd be super hyped if it happens I REALLY HOPE SO🙏💔💔💔

and the vial thing, yeah.. i always keep this line of mye in mind about the vials not having certain meanings besides the red and yellow/orange ones (wrath/agressivity and euphoria respectively) and that it is more up to the community to think about them more to detail. i did believe in this more confidently when in the prism collection itself the green sticker of ink wasn't representing any gross situation (which are the meanings many people think of first when talking about green) while blue and pink respected more this attachment to the most common meanings, green seemed to symbolize the nature of craftsmanship and that's neat!! though, i didn't think of this collection when analyzing the blue vial left in uvs— AND IDK WHY BECAUSE IT MAKES TOTAL SENSE

i'm very excited to see what ink has planned ahahhqhwbeb🥹🥹🥹🥹🥲😭🥹🙏🙏 like i don't know if uvs ink does have parents in the first place?? IT WOULD BE VERY FUN TO PLAY WITH THAT AT SOME POINT, sounds delightful that your own son doesn't even know who or what you are..... (my inner xgaster begs)

[shipping-isnt-morality]

I was frankly shocked the first time I discussed the Shoah with Israelis (rather than American Jews). There was a level of… I don’t know what to call it but victim-blaming, that I wasn’t sure how to handle. That’s of course not universal but the very fact that that’s an accepted viewpoint in Israel is kind of telling I think. For example there was even some scandal on the right in America when Ben Shapiro suggested that arming the Jews (more) would have prevented the Holocaust. In Israel that viewpoint is quite common.

There’s a kind of scorn among some Zionists for victims of the Holocaust, and if you really understand their point of view it’s easy to see why. If anti-Semitism is inevitable and incurable, if the very presence of Jews brings it about, then they should have fought harder, or at least left sooner. They should have known better than to ever think they could be welcome or safe in their home. It’s almost an exoneration of the anti-Semite; like a force of nature, he is inevitable and inexhaustible.

Not to always bring everything back to what I know, but it reminds me of how we talk about abusers and victims. These posts about protecting yourself from attackers in your car, in a parking lot, in your home, on a boat, whatever: They take for granted that you can not and should not feel safe in these places. They treat the danger of sexual predators the same as the danger of wildlife. Zionists talk about anti-Semites in a similar way, I’ve noticed.

Lord knows in many cases these are born from trauma. It’s no surprise that victims of serious violations would like to know how to protect themselves from it ever happening again and would want to protect others from the same.

The problem is that this trauma-informed response cannot actually fix the root of the problem. Neither anti-Semitism nor male sexual violence are forces of nature. They are byproducts of exploitative and imperfect systems run and populated by highly imperfect humans. Different systems have had different outcomes, though, some better than others, and recently some quite well indeed. Systemic solutions to these problems - at the least, to greatly reduce them, and to make justice more accessible - do exist. Humans can and have built them.

A systemic solution to the problem cannot start with the victim, though. It has to start with the perpetrator. It has to ask why the system keeps producing people who can and would do this. It has to ask what the perpetrator wants, why they want that, and why they think harming someone else will get them what they want. Simplistic, spiteful, or dehumanizing answers to these questions aren’t helpful; neither are trite or fatalistic ones. Only truthful, consistent, verifiable, rational answers will allow us to change the circumstances which lead to these crimes.

The victim is rarely in a position to change that system, or even to change the circumstances of a single abuser; on a personal level it makes sense to treat the threats as inevitable. On a societal level, though, it is essential that we recognize the perpetrators as rational actors who are fully responsible for their actions and whose excuses must be challenged.

Ideologically it is completely backwards to start from an assumption that it is up to the actions of a victim to avoid victimization. It is infinitely easier for perpetrators, who are after all themselves rational actors and members of our society, to choose a different action which does not victimize someone else. And where possible it is our role as a community to make better choices more accessible, and to punish exploitative behavior.

Because a victim-led initiative, at worst, would result in avoiding victimization through in turn becoming victimizers of a different, even more marginalized group. It recreates the problem: the victim cannot feel safe because the only defense they can conceive is one which never puts them in the position to be victimized ever again, but there is no battle to be won against the entire system. So a smaller battle is chosen, and a weaker opponent singled out (and rhetorically aligned with the systemic danger and hostility), and the exploitation dance happens again, one level down.

I’m hardly the first to observe this. This is probably a clumsy rephrasing of common philosophy examining human exploitation.

But the point is: all of that makes sense as a protective coping mechanism for the victim, but as a society it must not be where our analysis begins or ends. On a societal level this exploitation is not omnipresent, inevitable, or inexhaustible. The perpetrators are in our society as much as the victims are; an uncomfortable fact that I think people need to grow up about.

Our solutions can, should, and must look at why this happens and what we can do about it. The answer is not “nothing”. We have accomplished extraordinary things as a species. We have concepts of justice, of empathy. We have written documents of shared humanity, we have demonstrated shared humanity - for better and for worse. It is possible for us to find answers to these brutally difficult questions.

Palestine must be free, and Jews must be safe. These imperatives are not mutually exclusive. Those who tell you otherwise have something to gain from your fear.