#having issues posting the reply for this?

[jhalfsharp]

reblogging this version without all the dumbass transphobes in the replies, but i think its worth noting how much of the notes consists of people:

a) assuming that op's problem with the original post is the inclusion of cishet men at all,

b) believing that such discrimination against cishet men is a real issue that really matters, and

c) rushing to tell op that they are "divisive" for asserting that queer politics should focus on the empowerment of queer people

like lets be so fucking for real here. first off it should be obvious what op's problem here actually is, namely that you should judge queer groups based on how they treat marginalized groups rather than majority groups. like, having cishet men in a queer group doesn't mean they won't be racist or transmisogynistic-- many ostensibly queer groups do have cishet men in them, and are both. dunno how anyone missed that criticism, and assumed op just like. didn't like the straights?

but even if you assume that op has lost all grasp on reality and is entirely motivated by a hatred of straight people, how do you get to a point where you see that and that seems like a major problem to you. like, this is on the level of like. misandry, or like reverse racism. like it is not a real thing. no one on social media saying "i hate men" is in a position of power to discriminate against men, and no one on social media saying "i hate cishet men" is gonna implement large-scale plans to criminalize straightness and turn a blind eye to crimes as long as theyre done against straight people like patriarchy has been doing to queer people for centuries. so how do you even get to a position where you need to get into pissing matches with strangers about it?

this is a rhetorical question of course. you get into that position when the alternative is acknowledging that transmisogyny exists

It’s crazy how much patriarchy is winning it’s even got the transgenders on board

[iwoulddieforher]

She Doesn't Get Out Much | Casey Novak x Alex Cabot | Part 2

To read the summary and the previous works, check this post here.

This chapter summary: Casey gets the support she needs- it's tough to accept help, though. Mild warning for discussions of substance abuse disorders/exercise dependency issues, but it's all in the context of healing from them.

[2]

“If you don't start eating,” the notorious, cutthroat judge said, “I’m going to start spoon-feeding you as if you're one of my kids.” 

Casey Novak pressed her lips into a thin line and gave her mentor turned friend a pointed stare, which Mary Clark didn't even flinch under- rather, she flexed her eyebrows and provided her with a patronizing smile. 

The redhead sighed, raising the soup to her mouth and blowing on it briefly before slipping the spoon into her mouth, tilting it back, and swallowing. 

It was a dense mixture of broth, vegetables and chicken, well seasoned and proportioned but the flavor of it still weighed heavy on her tongue. She supposed it had been a while since she had eaten something indulgent like this was. It felt uncomfortable, but Mary had directed her to do so, and Casey wasn't in the habit of disobeying the elder woman.

“Good,” Mary commented, “Now, tell me how the job has been. I haven't seen you in a couple weeks, and in white collar you used to ask me to dinner at least twice a month- what's been going on?” 

“You’re very direct,” Casey muttered under her breath, emerald eyes flickering to the side, “Most people would have the decency to wait until the person they invited out begins that type of conversation.” 

“You don't become a judge and then half-way decent defense attorney by dancing around the point, dear,” came the easy reply, and Casey shot her another look that very clearly rejected the notion the other woman was only a ‘half-way decent’ attorney. Casey thought Mary Clark might be the most admirable person she knew. 

They were both sitting comfortably in a small up-scale restaurant, a staple of Mary’s collection of small esteemed yet hideaway locations for when she wanted to drag her protege out for a meal. It used to happen very frequently, called on by either one- Mary would send Casey an invitation if she decided too much time had passed since she’d seen her, and Casey would call on her when she needed advice or otherwise some form of solace. 

With her parents in a different state, it felt odd to admit, but Clark had filed seamlessly into her life as her emergency contact. It felt natural, having Mary tuck her under her wing, offering the wise experience decades of being at the forefront of law had provided her, and the emotional support she had needed. Even now, when Casey had gone to the prosecution and Mary parted to the defense, she felt more comfortable sharing her mind with her than perhaps anyone else. She wasn't entirely sure why she had so stubbornly been avoiding her.

“It’s been a bad couple months,” Casey replied vaguely, stirring her spoon idly and watching the liquid ripple under the ministration, “I haven't … had time for leisure.” 

“You’ve been working yourself to the bone,” Mary commented wryly. “What is it, Casey? You’ve picked some kind of poison. You can tell me. Drinking? Drugs? Sex?” 

“No-!” Casey snapped in an astonished and indignant huff, taken aback by Mary’s forwardness, although part of her wasn't particularly surprised by it. Mary did not make it a habit to beat around the bush, and it was obvious Casey wasn't doing as well as she could be, so of course Clark would be aggressive in her attempt to help her. It was familiar, though, the way Mary engaged with her, even if it still did make her a bit flustered to hear possible abuses said so brazenly. It took a lot to fluster someone as forward as Novak, so that was certainly saying something. 

“I’m not addicted to anything,” Casey denied fervently, and honestly, because she wasn't. “I haven't taken anything I’m not supposed to, and I haven't been sleeping around, if that was the implication.” 

“Sex addiction doesn't necessarily imply sleeping around, you can be addicted to sex with only one partner-” Mary half-shrugged and raised her teacup daintily, her pinkie finger extended automatically which made Casey snort internally at the juxtaposition between her professionalism and the vulgarity of her words. 

“-but, I digress. Okay. So, what's wrong with you, then? I’ve reared four children and one manchild husband. I've heard and seen far more than I need to in order to know I can handle what you're going to tell me.” 

Casey stayed stubbornly quiet. 

She knew, internally, that she was inevitably going to tell her, because of course she would. She knew Mary was aware of that too. There was no version of this conversation in which she’d successfully be able to keep her struggle a secret, and she didn't want there to be one either, she did want to tell her. 

It was a way to reassure herself, though, that her vulnerability was accepted- if she made Mary work her for it, then there was no way Mary could ever blame her for opening up, not that she … that was a bad thing to think, wasn't it? 

“Don't disappear into that thick head of yours, Casey.” The sound of an impatiently tapping finger against the white tablecloth snapped Casey out of her internal dialogue and she swallowed, blinking back into present focus. Mary was looking at her expectantly.

“I started working at SVU,” Casey said, then, in an uncharacteristically small voice, a note of defeat in her tone. 

Mary rewarded her for the slight lower of her guard by immediately ceasing the motion of her finger, and her eyes shifted from stern and expectant to almost maternal-like in care. This was the dynamic between the two- so long as Casey displayed the level of trust, respect and expectation the elder obliged her too, Mary would be her place of attention and support. 

“Well, that much I’m aware of. You’ve asked me for help on some of your cases,” Mary nodded, tilting her head to the side. “Has something happened?”

Casey felt nauseous immediately, the line of questioning making her stomach flip uncomfortably. She could feel her shoulders urging her to let them hunch inward, so she forced herself to do the exact opposite, pushing her shoulders down and backwards while straightening her spine. Mary watched her do so with a disguised sense of interest, and although Casey knew she was watching, it didn't add or lessen the discomfort she felt. 

She felt childlike under Mary’s intent gaze, but then again, she was the same age as Mary’s own children, so she supposed it wasn't that ridiculous of a thought. Casey felt small and somehow even weaker, more tired. She didn't want to admit that. She had worked exceptionally hard so that no one could ever identify she was struggling, and despite knowing she had to admit it if she wanted to improve the situation at all, it was a difficult thing to do. 

A swell of anxiety rose in her middle, blocking her throat, and she coughed awkwardly. This wasn't like the defiant silence she had provided Alex with, where both didn't quite know what to say or if they were even ready to converse at all, she simultaneously wanted to pour it all out and run for the hills. It reminded her oddly of telling her father she had received a misconduct for fighting in the school courtyard, steeling herself desperately and yet hopelessly against his fiercely stoic gaze. She needed to say it, and she knew she wasn't going to be punished for it, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. 

“Casey,” the elder woman’s voice was far gentler now, “You know there's nothing you could tell me that could sway my opinion of you, yes?” 

“I know,” Casey muttered hoarsely around the frog lodged firmly in her throat, “I don't know why this is so hard for me. It shouldn't be.”

“Nonsense,” Mary insisted, “Come now, dear. You take as much time as you need to find the words, but please do share them with me.” 

The redhead nodded slowly, trying to ease tension from her stuff muscles by letting out a shaky exhale. The stress wasn't subsiding the way she had hoped it would. 

Ironically, and in a way Casey thought to herself was wildly naive, she almost wished it was Alex across from her- Alex who had already seen, who she didn't need to explain it all too, Alex who was trying to win her favor back and therefore couldn't make any real demand of her, while Mary- albeit gently- was currently asking for quite a lot. 

Leverage and position, just like when drafting a plea deal. 

She decided to try to frame it this way to herself. She had committed the crime of recklessly manhandling her latest court cases by showing up exhausted and experiencing physical afflictions, and she could forgive herself for her stupidity if she plead her way out by taking responsibility. The only way she could do that is if she admitted to the judge- a position Mary had formerly held, so it wasn't even that far off- her misconduct, and hope the court accepted her attempt at reconciliation.

Casey thought about how she’d want a defendant to apologize when admitting guilt to the court, and decided to follow the structure that type of address would entail. 

“I’ve been reckless,” Casey said slowly, “I’ve endangered my cases and therefore the reputation of myself and the DA by appearing in court while in a state in which I shouldn't have.” 

Mary nodded, although a small twinge of confusion was evident in the way one of her eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly- Casey had previously denied any sort of substance abuse, and she couldn't assume any other sort of state she could’ve appeared in. 

“It isn't an excuse for my actions, but I’d like to offer an explanation,” Casey breathed, letting her green eyes flicker warily up to Mary's warm brown ones, and letting herself relax slightly when she was met only with sympathy and apparently growing concern, “I … I haven't been sleeping. I’ve intentionally neglected sleeping because I … I keep …” 

She was growing frustrated with her inability to just spit the godforsaken words out, and she could see Mary’s eyes flicker down as Casey’s fingers clenched in on themselves from where she had laid them on the table. 

“It's stupid,” Casey gasped, tears pricking at her eyes, defeat tasting as bitter in her mouth as the feeling of her voice cracking with emotion did.

Mary’s hand extended over the length of the table to nestle comfortably over her’s, squeezing in a successful attempt to be reassuring. Casey felt herself breathe a bit easier with the physical affection, and she let her eyes drift to fixate on the gleam of Mary's golden rings as the elder woman ran her thumb soothingly over Casey’s hand.

“You’re working a really stressful job, Casey.” Mary coaxed, “I won't blame you for anything you’ve done, not when you've clearly already been beating yourself up for it.” 

“I haven't been eating,” Casey spit out the words as if they were burning her, because they felt like they were, “I haven't been- been sleeping, because all I do when I’m not working is- is exercise.” 

Mary looked bewildered, but now that Casey had gotten over that particular hurdle, it was like a dam had split wide open. Words lapped eagerly through the floodgates, tumbling from her tongue before she had a chance to agonize over each syllable. 

“It's- it's gotten bad. I don't function, anymore, I can't stand to be in my own head if I’m not- from the second I get off of work, I’m at the batting cages until I physically can't be, and I have all these bruises and I know people are worried about me but I just can't- I can't handle it, everything feels to impossible, and when I’m moving I can't think about all that, but I’ve been stuck in perpetual movement for- for weeks, and I can't do this anymore.” 

The hand that encased her’s squeezed again, warm and soft, unflinching and firm. Casey’s mind flickered back to watching Alex’s hand quiver every couple seconds, an action Alex herself hadn't even seemed aware of. The parallel was very obvious to her, but she wasn't sure what it meant.

She felt her eyes prick with tears, and despite not wanting to shake Mary’s hand off she needed to as she reached to press the edges of her palms against her eyes to contain the miserable liquid before it ruined her makeup and composure entirely. Mary had seen a lot from her, but sobbing wasn't one of them- Casey certainly did not make it a habit to cry in front of others, and this was no exception. She gritted her teeth and tried to curse internally. She tried to transfer her exhaustion and her anxiety into fury at the universe, but when she did that only caused an inadvertent flex in her bicep, and she realized that was exactly how she had gotten this bad. She had been channeling her grief into rage she could unleash via swings of a softball bat, and now she was stuck with no other way to bring herself back down.

“Can I tell you a story?” 

This was exactly why Casey confided in Mary- the elder woman always managed to catch her off guard in the best way possible. 

Mary never made her feel bitter with empty platitudes and pleasantries and faux comforts. She always had something unexpected and exactly right to calm the bubbling swirl of overwhelm in Casey’s heart. With a small hint of relief, a whispered thank-you to God for sending her a mentor like Mary Clark, Casey nodded and resigned herself to listen.

Casey studied the face of the older woman, chocolate brown irises with wisdom and smile wrinkles near her eyes and cheeks as her expression smoothed over thoughtfully. The elder woman broke eye contact to drop her gaze to the tablecloth, and Casey realized she was slightly uncomfortable.

“You don't know this about me,” Mary started, “because I don't quite make it a habit to tell, but it seems like a fitting time for me to tell you about something that happened … probably right around the time you started preschool. I do have a few years on you, after all.” 

Even though through her scrutiny Casey was finding more slight indicators what Mary was about to confide was not an easy subject for her, she was making an obvious attempt to keep it lighthearted for Casey’s benefit. Casey offered her a weak smile at that small bit of humor.

“I had just had my third,” Mary murmured, referring to her children, “and the delivery had complications. To spare you the awkward details, it wasn't anything pretty. I had to stay in the hospital for a week or so, and it was much harder than I ever expected it could be, especially since my first two were reasonably easy.” 

She took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and then closed it again, her short brown hair swaying slightly as she shook her head. Mary attempted to gather the words, and Casey tried not to feel exceptionally guilty for asking this of her, but unlike with Alex- who was scrambling to find purchase, would offer information she’d later regret if it helped her regain standing next to Casey- Casey could trust that whatever Mary had to say was something she meant too. She didn't need to reassure Clark that she didn't need to say anything she was uncomfortable with.

“People always talk about postpartum depression,” Mary said after a few seconds, “Well, they do now- maybe not as much when I was going through it- but you never really understand until you're exhausted and can't muster up the willpower to want to care for yourself, or the kid you're going with it through, let alone the other two and a good-for-nothing husband- it was hard, Casey.” 

“I can only imagine,” Casey heard herself say, as if through water. Something about the way Mary spoke soothed her frayed nerves in a way she hadn't felt in months. It was a weird experience, to finally be out and vulnerable, to not hold a facade. To not be the one scrutinized, rather the one observing. 

“But obviously, just because you want to give up and sleep for weeks, you can't. World keeps spinning. Kids need to be cared for. So I picked up a habit that helped me keep me upright- I started smoking.” 

Casey didn't know how to respond to that, so she just lowered her gaze submissively and shook her head slowly, hoping that conveyed some sort of empathy, not that she felt like Mary expected any from her.

“It was a cigarette a day, and then one every couple hours, and then before you knew it I was calling recess in court just so I could go out myself and chain-smoke. I was going through a pack in less than three days, and bottles of whatever kind of perfume I could use to try to hide the stench of it even faster.” 

Mary waved her hand as though attempting to make a dismissive motion, but the weight of her words was far from anything Casey could ignore. 

“I knew it had to stop when I had to ask a defense counselor to justify an objection, only because I had been mentally wondering when the next time I could hold a recess was, and not because I needed the elaboration. I don't think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone before.” 

Brown eyes met green, and Mary’s gaze bore a comfortable space into Casey’s soul, chipping through the layers of crumbling cement to fill the hollow space with comfort instead of numb exhaustion. 

“It hurts, Casey. I know it does. And almost every person you’ll find in a courthouse has some kind of story where the stress just got too much and they lost it. Some drink, some sleep with people they shouldn't, some take it out on other people. Some never recover, but I did, and I know you will, too.” 

“I don't know how,” Casey’s voice cracked, but she didn't clamp her mouth shut or try to stiffen, she forced herself to relax into the vulnerability of the moment. 

“You don't have too.” 

Casey blinked at her and Mary’s hand found her’s once again. 

“It starts with eating better,” Mary soothed, “it starts with listening to your basic needs. Eat when you're hungry, drink when you're thirsty, sleep when you're tired and you can. Rest in the arms of people who love you.”

“I can't,” the redhead choked, pushing her head into her hands desperately, hiding her face and seeking support from her arms hopelessly. 

“Mary, for years- for years, I’ve been- I’ve been telling myself that all I had to do was make it ‘till high school graduation, make it through law school, make it until I get married, but there's no goals anymore, and everything’s falling apart.” 

Mary’s gaze sharpened quickly and Casey realized she had slipped up, revealed something she hadn't meant too. Mary had known she was engaged, and as Casey watched while internally cursing herself for the impulsive statement, her gaze flickered down to Casey’s hand. Casey had been engaged, and if marriage wasn't a goalpost anymore, that left only two options- either she had a husband, or she no longer had the immediate potential of one. No band adored Casey’s ring finger, and she could see that recognition click in Mary's eyes.

Defense attorneys had a habit of declaring their thoughts out loud, even if the implication of the situation was obvious enough. Clark was no different. It made Casey wince inwardly. 

“You're not engaged to Mr. Morrison anymore?” 

It had been a little over a year, fourteen long months since Casey had thrown Charlie out of her house, and the majority of people who had known about the engagement through idle understanding still didn't know it was over. Though, to be fair, she hadn't ever had that broad of a social circle to begin with- her parents had been informed when Casey kicked him out, his parents minutes after, and the few drifting college friends over the following weeks, and mostly only after they had asked first. Mary was one of the few exceptions who had been aware through random small talk, and Casey had never gone out of her immediate way to declare her potential marriage had crashed into a burning heap.

“No,” Casey muttered. She glanced up through her eyelashes, deciding if Mary would run with this topic, she’d continue it. Old women were always suckers to discuss romance in younger people, weren't they? “I’m not. And the person I saw after that didn't quite work out either, I- … I think.” 

She hadn't lost Alex entirely. They would be speaking in two week’s time. But she had spent the past months struggling with the assumption she’d never enjoy the company of the blonde ever again, and despite it now being corrected, the shape their relationship had previously been did not fit the way Casey’s character had morphed under the stress of the previous months. 

It was like a house one had moved out of and then revisited- bittersweet and hollowed, nostalgic in a heart wrenching way. The adornments that had lined the hallways, the understanding and familiarity ripped out and the walls entirely repainted. Perhaps the potential to repossess the property would occur, but there was no guarantee it would work, or that it would be at all comfortable like it had been before. 

It might not work. She would not base her fragile state of the foundation that she had no way of ensuring would not crack under her. If she were to be better, she’d do it without her, and if she wanted to share a second chance with Alex, she’d need to be healthy for that.

“You think?” Mary tilted her head, but then blinked and shook her head quickly. “For another time, Casey. Clever, though, trying to redirect me like that.” 

“Lawyer for a reason,” Casey said quietly, taking a spoonful of now-cold soup into her mouth so she’d have something other than speaking to do with her tongue. She averted her gaze. Her mental energy to have an emotionally taxing conversation like this was plummeting by the second, even with someone she trusted as much as Mary Clark.

“So if you don't have that type of consolation, Casey, what support are you getting?” 

That was the question probing the area Casey did not want to delve into. She sighed and closed her eyes, hoping Mary would get the message, which of course she did- but even a defense attorney as formidable as her wasn't quite sure how to breach such a sensitive topic.

“... You're working with the Special Victims Unit, so you have a set rotation of detectives now- are any of them trustworthy enough?” 

“I don't know how to answer that without sounding like a rejected schoolchild,” Casey muttered before she could stop herself. Pathetic, she groaned internally, why would she say something so pitiful? She was a prosecutor for God's sake, she should be stoic and cold and statuesque, but instead she had her elbows on her table with her head in her hands spilling her soul to the judge she did her clerkship under because a couple coworkers didn't appreciate that her face didn't look like Alex’s stupidly pretty one. 

The image of Alex’s smiling face, with her smooth porcelain skin and golden hair, the perfect image of everything that was wrong with Casey and the symbol she had used to punish and oppress herself, made adrenaline bolt into her veins. She wanted to run away, now. Hit something. Even with the norepinephrine she didn't have enough energy to do so. 

It's unfair, something inside her said, to hold Alex’s image in such a negative regard. Alex had been struggling too. Alex was trying to be nice to her, despite the venom Casey had spat. Alex wanted to keep trying. Alex was good. If Alex was good, then Casey must be bad, because Casey was not what Alex was- but Casey was not a bad person. This, despite her insecurities, she knew. 

“I’m tired of mental gymnastics,” Casey groaned out loud, because what kind of internal dialogue was that supposed to be, “Fuck this.” 

“Then we proceed through this in steps,” Mary affirmed, “And if you're a rejected school kid, I’ll be the teacher whose classroom you eat lunch in until you manage to make your own friends. This won't last forever, Casey, but until it's over I’ll hold your hand, so to speak.” 

Casey decided to ignore the comparison of herself to some little high schooler with her cafeteria tray in her English teacher’s classroom and focus on the proposal.

Proceeding step by step. Court proceedings were something Casey was good at following. She could do steps. She had a feeling Mary knew that was the equivalency she would immediately draw and had intrinsically framed it as such for her benefit.

“Okay,” Casey took a deep breath and nodded, straightening up and smoothing out the tablecloth and the skirt over her lap out of habit, “Okay.” 

“The first step,” Mary’s eyebrows flexed as though warning Casey not to be dejected, because she already knew she would be, “Is to let yourself accept you’re struggling. You've got thick skin, dear, I know you hate to admit it, but you have a problem right now, and you can't fix it if you keep agonizing over how much you hate that you have one.” 

“I’m here, aren't I? I’m having this conversation,” Casey responded, slightly indignant. 

Mary was quick to offer a quick “Yes, of course,” as a consolation. “I meant, though,” she was quick to continue, “That you need to come to terms with it. Counseling, I’d suggest, but you're stubborn and hate opening up to people, so perhaps journalling. Just get everything in your head out somewhere, and I guarantee you it’ll clear some space in that brain of yours.” 

“Journaling,” Casey echoed distantly. 

She wanted to cry, all of a sudden. She didn't want to be here anymore. She was exhausted and even though the way she had been going felt horrible at least, in a twisted way, it was familiar- but this? It felt easier to just lapse back into erecting brick walls.

I don't want to do this, something inside her thoughts despairingly, I just want to crawl into a hole and hide. I’m not like Mary. I don't have children to take care of. There's nothing keeping me going the way a mother is driven to persevere. 

“Okay,” she said, despite the voice in her head and the overwhelming sensation of internal organs churning in the cavity of her chest, “I can do that. What would come next?” 

The look Mary gave her made it obvious the older woman saw right through her facade, but she did not choose to comment on it. 

“Better habit forming.” Mary said flatly, and Casey shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. That much was obvious. Eating better, drinking enough, sleeping more. She already knew she had to do that, but perhaps after getting her head a bit clearer through Mary’s suggestion of journaling it would be easier than where she currently found herself.

“The step after that would be getting yourself out there again,” and here too Mary had to shoot her a stern look, because Casey snorted at the notion, “You need friends, Casey. You need to find people you're comfortable sharing things with.” 

Casey was silent.

“And after?” She asked, finally, because she didn't like sitting in silence with Mary Clark.

“Foresight and planning are essential to a lawyer,” Mary agreed, taking another slow sip of tea that had long since cooled off, “but you know better than anyone that you can't plan too far in advance, or it’ll become impossible to deal adequately with unforeseen challenges. Focus on what I told you, dear, and let the rest come naturally.” 

I don't want to be here anymore, Casey's voice told herself. I don't want to do this. This seems so hard. I look pathetic and weak in front of my mentor, and it's not like anything will change. I don't want to be here. I want to go home.

She was going to cry if she stayed here for any longer, she realized. She needed to go home. 

Before she could formulate some sort of excuse to tuck tail and duck off, Mary’s lips curved into a sympathetic smile, and she looked at her with an air a bit too motherly, a bit too familiar for Casey to be entirely comfortable with.

“You’re done talking for today, Casey, aren't you?” 

“Yes,” Casey’s voice came out in a small rasp, “This is harder than I expected it to be. I can't… I don't…” 

Mary shushed her, a soothing, hummed coax to Casey’s fragile psyche. Casey didn't need to talk, it seemed. Only listen. Casey could do that. Casey could force herself to do that. 

“I don't want to keep you any longer than you’re comfortable with,” the elder woman said in a quiet voice, quiet enough that Casey felt comfortable leaning forward slightly, “so I will provide you now with my closing statement, which begins by affirming I don't expect a return statement, so feel free to leave when I’m done talking.” 

Casey’s eyebrows simultaneously raised and tilted, a look of be-deadass crossing her face. It was generous for Mary to offer an exit without requiring her to say something to part, but she’d never leave without acknowledging the effort Mary was putting into this conversation. Mary smiled in response.

“I’d like to say how proud I am for agreeing to meet with me, and acknowledge how exhausting this must be for you right now,” at this Casey averted her gaze, her heart jolting in her chest, but she tried to settle into the uncomfortable warmth. It caught her off guard, but not in a bad way. She had heard people be sympathetic, offer comfort that simultaneously wasn't genuine but also not a lie- words they thought would bring something, but offered more out of a sense that that was what they were supposed to say, supposed to do. Tense, Awkward. Forced. But Mary spoke so easily that even Casey’s naturally oversuspicious mind was lulled, at least to some degree. 

“And furthermore, I urge you to remember how good of a lawyer you are. How many people you’ve helped, be it financial ruin from your time in white collar or the gift of a fighting chance to special victims in your new work. You may feel powerless, but you’ve been making a real difference, Casey. You’ve been doing well. You’re good, and not only at what you do, but in general- you’re a good person, Casey, no matter what kind of affliction provokes you.” 

A small shudder ran down Casey’s spine. It hurt to hear that, somehow, perhaps it hurt because her first instinct was to argue. 

“You’ve got me to call if you ever need advice, or a shoulder, or a helping hand,” Mary continued, “Or a shoe. And I know, you’ll argue with me about this, but I know with absolute certainty I’m not the only one who cares about you. Find the people who do and stay with them. You’ll be okay, Casey. Everything will be okay.” 

With that, she promptly nodded, the same way she had in court after finishing her closing statement, or giving the floor back to the prosecution. She had said her piece. 

“Thank you,” Casey started, before opening and then closing her mouth blankly. How was one supposed to respond to that- how did she want to respond to that? 

Being comforted by anyone- being offered consolation or support hadn't been an experience she had the privilege of receiving in months, perhaps years. Mary gave it to her as though it was water. Casey may as well have been terminally dehydrated. Her throat was choking trying to swallow something she wasn't at all used too- but she needed it, fuck, she had needed it. 

So she simply repeated a “thank you”, reaching over the table to squeeze Mary’s hand softly, mirroring the elder attorney’s earlier action. Casey took a deep breath, letting her eyes flutter shut. 

“I am very grateful,” she said slowly, “to have a mentor like you, Mary. Thank you for deciding to check on me, and thank you for listening to everything. Thank you for being so kind. When I’m back to normal, though,” her eyes flickered up, hoping to inject a small veil of playfulness, “I hope we go straight back to your ruthless teasing over my mishaps.”

“Oh, dear,” Mary chuckled, but her voice was still tinted with sympathy, “I’d never dream of anything otherwise.” 

“Good, then.” Casey said quietly.

She was done now. She had heard Mary out and responded in some way she decidedly thought was adequate. It felt awkward leaving but her heart couldn't take much more of the way she had forced it open for this meeting.

“I’ll see you soon, yes?” Mary asked, and Casey nodded easily. It wasn't like with Alex where the next meeting was loaded and something to obsess or agonize over. Another meal with Mary was as inevitable as rain falling- Mary needed the excitement of insights into the life of an up-and-coming ambitious young attorney, and more than that Casey needed her trusted mentor’s advice. 

“I’ve got this check,” Mary murmured, picking up her teacup, “So go on home, now. And Casey- take care of yourself.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Casey said softly, before standing up and slinging her coat over her shoulders. She turned back for a small second, her eyebrows furrowing. Casey swallowed once as a nervous tick, letting her bottom lip part open for a small second. It felt awkward leaving. It felt impossible to stay here.

“Thank you,” she said one last time, sheepishly, quietly. 

Mary didn't look up, but she smiled widely over the rim of her teacup. 

Casey turned and left. 

[fd139]

Joo Jaekyung’s shoulder condition & Kim Dan’s sleep issue parallel:

I know for some of you episode 67 was disappointing, but I just want to give you another point of view!

(I’ve posted this on twitter this week, so I thought I’ll share with Tumblr as well)

Let’s start with Jaekyung; on ep.14 is when we saw the first time that JK might have a shoulder injury. While he’s training before his match, he’s stiffer than usual and is rolling his shoulder (typical move when we are injured there). Then, on ep.16 Kim Dan shows concern about JK medical condition and want to understand by going for JK’s check-up.

But due to the shark loans and all those shenanigans, we get that medical appointment only on ep.27 the doctor speaks directly to KD that “[JK’s] joints are under far too much stress and his shoulder, especially, is in bad shape.”

The doctor states two things;

1) Jaekyung is rough with his body

2) he’s been performing through the pain.

So Kim Dan realizes that on ep.15 when JK said he lied about his shoulder, he actually LIED about that lie! Back to ep.27, then both the doctor and Kim Dan are left with a question; Why does he push himself this hard?

Kim Dan tells JK to rest at least one day and JK reaction was “No way, that time is precious.” KD then offers to organize his rest day, and they agree on that. During that day, they eventually have sex in the pool (ep.28).

On ep.29, after KD wakes up, they have a sweet moment in front of the TV just discussing, and KD gets to know a little bit more JK. One thing he learns is that JK got sleep problem.

Kim Dan then thinks “This whole time, he’s had insomnia… we sleep separately, so I didn’t realize.” Which means JK’s mind and body are way MORE exhausted than what we all thought he was. Imagine the amount of physical training he puts himself through, without having rest days, and not sleeping well?

Of course he won’t heal his shoulder in those conditions, of course he’d have a shitty temper (not only, but let’s say it doesn’t help) I don’t know how he had been functioning all this time to be honest!

Then KD tells him that, and JK replies “exhaustion doesn’t matter. Not when you want to stay the champion.” That there will always be ppl who wants to take his title, waiting for the occasion. “What do you think will happen if I just stay still? Relaxing means losing.”

And then, JK says something that I think it’s the softest request he had ever told Kim Dan: “So doc, this resting one day a week thing. Don’t push it too hard. Alright?” We know his vocabulary and tones are very rude and harsh, I wish we could actually HEAR how he said this.

On ep.30 Kim Dan says that since that day (ep.28 flashback) something feels different. No kidding. They have been intimated emotionally for the first time, not only in the pool, but in front of that TV too. I wish we could have JK’s thoughts in those moments…

After the jelly episodes with Heesung, let’s get back into the shoulder injury issue. Someone from the hospital sold the information and is now in the news, which is why JK needs to have a match to prove he’s still the champion (ep.35&36)

Now, we know JK needed to lose weight in order to fight Dominic in his category. And it was very demanding for his body! As the doctor had said, JK is very rough with his body, he must have been very exhausted doing all that.

When Kim Dan saw how he looked so weak due to the weight loss, he thought: “I can’t believe he has to keep doing this… I hate to see him like this.” And looks away, which makes JK very upset “You’re pitying me? This is hard enough as it is, without you making it worse.” (ep.37)

I wonder if he gets this mad because it’s KD or if anyone else would make him this upset? Let’s not forget this is not long after Heesung told JK that “you caught feelings for Kim Dan” and JK went on TOTAL denying mode. He started to avoid Kim Dan, getting distant and all. So I’d like to think it’s particularly KD that got him mad because he doesn’t want KD to see him “weak”.

Then the aphrodisiac shake happens (ep.38&39) and JK wins the match (ep.40) and says that KD is “one of my own.” Don’t tell me he says that just because he was able to eat normally after his weight loss? Naaah, he won’t admit it, but KD’s clumsy confession was for something.

Kim Dan realizes his feelings for Jaekyung on ep.41

Let’s move forward all the emotional rollercoaster and get to ep.52 after JK tie match with Jumin. When coach asks the doctor if JK will need surgery he immediately says “Hell no. If I have surgery… I’ll be out for a long time. Not gonna happen.”

Of course, this is not Jaekyung to decide, but it shows just how his aspiration is on top of everything. This is beyond being stubborn. Once he finally accepted to do the surgery, and Yoon-Gu reveals and confirms that Kim Dan wasn’t a spy,

JK and coach get into an argument and what I find interesting is that coach says: “Don’t you feel anything for the person who’s been caring for you all this time?” I searched, and KD never said out loud that he worried or cared for JK. You might say it was obvious, but how could it be for JK?

It was Kim Dan’s job to treat JK, it was Kim Dan’s job to make sure his body was in good shape, it was his responsibility, when he did something extra, he would use the gratitude card on why he was doing this or that. JK wouldn’t know he cared, actually, he would mostly think “he’s just doing his job.” Which brings me to the bday gift.

When sober Dan tried to speak up his feelings, he backoff and said it’s to show his gratitude.

Now, ep.45 is a devastating one. Because after my re-reading, I understand better JK’s personality. So far, Kim Dan haven’t left JK’s side, despite how badly he was treated. KD until then felt useful, in his job and relationship with JK. But KD had this mindset “I’m just a tool/employee” (we don’t blame him)

And JK? He cared for KD, I’ll have to make another thread regarding this one, but he cared and worried in his own way about KD. And the scene with the gift is one of them.

What is interesting is how curious and calm was JK when he unwrapped the present until he questions how KD could afford to buy this gift. Because he knew the money wasn’t coming from him. When JK puts together what KD had been going through lately, stressing him and wondering what KD was doing during the night, his first reaction is great! He’s not upset, he’s stunned? And how does JK shows he cares and worried about KD? Anger and rudeness.

Ep.45 when it clicks, he says “hey, Kim Dan, who asked you to buy this for me?”

Reminder that JK doesn’t care about physical possession and what JK really meant was: “I don’t want you putting yourself out like that. I didn’t ask you to get hurt and leave in the middle of the night for hours.” But this is too gentle I guess and in the nose…

That’s when KD tells him he believes what he did was not wrong, and he only wanted to express his feelings (gratitude). After this unclear confession, JK is enraged and is interesting what he says:

“I hired you as my physical therapist. What makes you think I wanted you to get me this piece of crap?” I was so shocked the first reading, that I missed the subtility of what JK was saying. He brought up the trinket and the physical therapist job. Not Kim Dan’s feelings or the jinx job.

Why the trinket? Because this is JK not wanting KD to go through trouble for unnecessary reasons.

Why the physical therapist job? Because JK believes that what’s keeping KD near him is a well-paying job, you could even say that is KD dedication to his physical therapist job (you can tell he likes it)

Jaekyung doesn’t think KD has an interest on his sulky cat persona. “he’s just doing his job.”

Which was JK mistake at the end, because as soon KD felt useless as a physical therapist, he left. No money or feelings could hold him, if Dan wasn’t useful, he was not needed. We can already see KD changes on ep.53 when he just leaves coldly JK after sex.

But JK accepted doing surgery for his shoulder, and for the same way I believe he’ll come to terms with his feelings towards Kim Dan. Jaekyung put his body through hell to win, he’s doing the same thing with his feelings, denying the truth so he stays the strongest. I think his shoulder injury is an allegory. After what he considered losing is when he took action to heal. I’m afraid he’d have to lose KD (or something similar) to realize his feelings.

As for Kim Dan’s situation in S2, he’s reacting the same way as JK in S1 regarding his shoulder. Denying he needs help, he can take care of himself, says is not as bad as the doctor says etc. But here’s my take, I believe Dan is more stubborn than Jaekyung.

I cannot tell the exactitude of the allegory of Kim Dan’s condition since we don’t have his diagnostic. The doctor said “the underlying cause could be the alcohol, though it might also be psychological.”

However, what I can say is that since in S1 it was KD that was responsible for JK’s physical conditions, S2 it’s JK who’s going to take care of KD physical condition and make sure he’s doing his treatment. Tables have switched. So far in S2, it’s also KD who had initiated sex, not JK.

But when in S1 KD was dedicated to do his job and JK was the one who wanted Dan to treat him, in S2 KD doesn’t want JK helps.

On last episode (67) after KD takes the bottle of alcohol, I find the conversation interesting. When KD says add this and that on my debt since you’re not doing this from kindness, JK starts with “What are you talking about? You think this is about money—”

I really WHISH Kim Dan didn’t interrupt Jaekyung here! I don’t think JK would have added all the expenses into KD debt if he didn’t bring it up. Kim Dan says that JK wants to fix him just so he can have sex with him to pay in full his debt and JK is angry with this statement:

“I’m doing this ‘cause you can’t even take basic care of yourself! You’re making everyone around you worry!” and Kim Dan says out loud what we wanted JK to admit too: “are you saying you brought me here because you’re worried about me?”

I don’t blame JK’s silence here. I bet next chapter or the one after, JK is going to replay this moment in his head and ask himself if he worries about KD. And I believe KD hadn’t expect JK’s reaction, so he didn’t want to hear an answer and decided to not give him a chance to say Yes or No by answering for him and assuming: “Yeah, that’s what I thought…” looking away.

And once KD offers having sex, JK is outraged “Why the hell would you even bring that up right now?” and KD reaction was to get on his knees and says he wants to settle this way. Jaekyung is furious, he knows something is off, but this is what they had agree a long time ago. He can’t refuse KD’s will to decrease his debt.

My guess is that Kim Dan’s condition is psychological. Kim Dan’s psychology condition in S2 parallel with Jaekyung’s body condition in S1. JK was exhausted, injured, but overworked his body until he reached the point he couldn’t omit surgery. KD is not helping his own wellbeing the same way JK did on S1, so this is why he’s using JK to destroy himself emotionally.

I believe next time (if not, probably the one after) JK is going to refuse. Because there’s no satisfaction, at this point it’s Kim Dan using JK. I think that’s what is going to bring the argument they need in order to burst what they have in their chest.

[asterekmess]

Hi, Tali! If you don't mind answering, what do you think of the Jewish Stilinski / Gajos Family headcanon? What about the headcanon of Stiles with ADHD and autism? Finally, do you have headcanons focused on Teen Wolf werewolf culture? For example, I find it interesting that, based on ravens and their symbiotic relationship with wolves, werewolves think of ravens as good luck charms or even allies. Perhaps, they will call someone particularly close to them who is not supernatural, their raven. I don't know. I find the apparent hatred, or reluctance, that the series portrayed for born werewolves rather sad. Thank you so much.

There's a lot of questions here, so i'll go through them one at a time!

Jewish Stilinski/Gajos Family headcanon: It's not one I personally follow; while i like to try and incorporate a little more polish culture with the Stilinski family, I don't really do religious aspects (and yes i know that you can be culturally jewish without being religiously jewish, but it's also not part of how I view him). But i do love the idea, and of course heavily support others bringing it to life for themselves! Admittedly, if I were to make anyone in tw jewish, I usually see Coach as jewish? I don't even know why? It's just permanently there in my brain. o.O But I think that there's a lot of depth you could go into making Stiles/the Stilinski/the Gajos family jewish, and so much that could be added to his character and his parents that way! ADHD & Autistic Stiles: I'm assuming you're specifically talking about him being ADHD AND Autistic, since the ADHD part is canon. And again, while it's not something I personally see/headcanon, I'm still very supportive of others hc'ing it. Autistic characters are rare, and well-written autistic characters even more so. Rep in general for Autistic people is abysmally hard to find if you're looking for canon rep, so I have no hardships with those who hc they're way into getting some. There's plenty of things/behaviors/ideas about Stiles that would support that hc, and people exploring that is awesome! I mean, honestly there's not really headcanons that I don't support, since they're headcanons and people can think whatever it is they wanna think. XD Whether or not I share those headcanons is a wildly different story. XD

Headcanons focused on TW werewolf culture/customs: I have SO MANY. The problem is that I have so many, and they're such integral parts of how I view things, that it's genuinely hard for me to identify what my hc's are, because they're basically canon to me. There's pack bonds being a real, magical thing with physical effects on wolves (this isn't canon, despite what cora says about losing pack members being like losing limbs, and what they say in s2 about packs with more wolves being literally stronger faster, etc. They never say a pack BOND is a thing). There's the Alpha Imperative to protect and care for the pack like essentially a parent, paralleling real life pack structures. That it's not about being dominant, it's about being a Guardian/Caretaker for the rest of the pack. That there's a reason why someone wouldn't WANT to be an Alpha, that there's some kind of downside to all that power, or at least a responsibility that some wouldn't be willing to deal with. The idea that werewolves can't use magic. that you can either be magic, or have magic, and since werewolves ARE magic, they can't control it, unless it's werewolf specific, like the stuff with their claws, etc. So a werewolf couldn't cast a spell, but a witch could. The idea that having control isn't about Not Shifting, it's about being able to CHOOSE whether you shift or not. A fully shifted werewolf isn't less in control than a non-shifted one. If a non-shifted wolf CAN"T shift? They have no control, just as a wolf who can't HELP shifting has no control. True Control is about being Balanced in your ability to choose which way you sway in the shift. And continuing on from that, there's the idea that Werewolves aren't half wolf, half human. They're ALL werewolf, and there's no inner wolf they're fighting for control with or humanity to cling to. There's just…Them. Bitten wolves have new urges that they might Personify as an inner wolf, but especially bitten wolves DONT have that, because why would they? Heightened senses/alternative forms of communication being a THING for werewolves. They go off scent, sure, but also they speak with Body language and read emotions in your stance. That Derek and the Hales might not actually be so damn succinct and non-communicative as everyone assumes, and maybe they're just speaking a different language? Shifting as a general form of communication and behavior. The same as smiling or glaring, having eye flashes and showing fang being a Part of how they talk. It's not necessarily intimidation tactics, it's just…another form of squinting their eyes or winking or whatever other facial expressions humans use? They just have more options bc they have more facial features to work with. Full moons being a sort of….not holiday, but a Custom to werewolves. It's not just a horrific night of torture and pain. It's a night when wolves feel powerful and full of energy and magic and whether they have full moon runs or bonfire nights or parties, or even just mandatory pack nights, having the full moon mean something other than agony. Having a CONNECTION to the moon! Whether they see it as a deity or in general have a cultural respect for nature as a whole or just Feeling something standing in the moonlight, full moon or not. This thing that's so huge to them, having some other effects/meaning something to them!

There's loads more, but i also like your idea about ravens and connections to wolves! I actually have a wip that talks a lot about that concept ^_^ And you're right, it was really sad and disappointing that a show that was supposed to be about werewolves, treated them like the enemy and every glimpse we got into their culture just revealed more violence and hatred and viciousness and just....2 dimensional animalistic propaganda bullshit. Half the stories we heard about werewolves came from hunters! Also, apologies that this response keeps getting longer, tumblr wasn't letting me fucking post the reply bc i guess it was too long?

[leviathan-supersystem]

You try to attack and manipulate me with a common rhetorical tactic of claiming that your opponent holds a particular identity (“free speech champion” in this case) and claiming that they have jeopardized this identity by the actions or position you are trying to attack. I am rolling out of your attempted rhetorical hold like a fighter slipping off a grabbed shirt by denying that I am going to defend the identity you are trying to use to attack me.

this is so dishonest. you have for years taken shots at the social justice crowd over free speech- oftentimes making genuinely good points- which is why it's so disappointing to see you take such a censorial position. you made genuinely good points when you criticized xkcd for defening corporate censorship. but surely on some level you must realize how you've undercut your criticism by taking this position. if it's fine for the state to "show someone the door" over their speech, how can you consistently argue it's off-limits for a social media platform to do the same? if Kyou feel it's fine for Khalil to be deported over his speech, why not banned from a social media platform?

at any rate even if you had never said you liked free speech in your life (you have said that, in this thread even) then the censorial position you're taking here with regard to khalil's case would still deserve to be criticized. you'd be consistent, sure, but stil wrong.

I’m open to being convinced that there’s exceptions or reasons why tourist visas ought to double as permanent residency permits and non citizen terrorism supporters ought to be allowed to stay in country, but I require convincing.

the reason the state shouldn't able to punish non-citizens for "terrorism-supporting" speech is that "terrorism" and "supporting" are both incredibly vague terms and can be easily expanded to punish people for entirely appropriate speech criticizing a war effort that no reasonable person would say was "supporting terrorism", and from here a slippery slope to the same standards being applied to citizens. you'll note we already seem to be at the second stage in this slippery slope.

Again, are you illiterate? I explicitly mentioned a middle aged felon deportee in my original post, and if you can’t figure out that’s what I’m referring to in the tag, I don’t see much point in continuing to interact with you as you’re at least one of stupid/disingenuous.

but that's not what we're talking about *now*, the subject i was addressing was Khalil specifically, and it's pathetic for you to keep trying to change the subject to the other people you brought up in your original post (which you also do elsewhere in this reply) because you can't defend you position oh khalil.

You’re on the wrong post if you don’t want to discuss the Democrats because this is a post in large part about the Democrats.

saying that because you stated your apathy, if not approval, of the state punishing an anti-war protester over their speech within a criticism of the democratic party, that no one can critique that apathy/provably unless they're going to argue with your critique of the democrats, is absurd.

I didn’t mention specific cases because I didn’t want to discuss specific cases here

you were obviously alluding to the khalil case with the "terrorism supporting" part be serious. you *did* mention specific cases, and consequently have put yourself in a position where it's reasonable to expect that you discuss them.

As you believe that it is possible for student protesters to deserve being squashed by a tank,

putting words in my mouth. the government response on the june 4th incident was poorly handled and escalated the situation. however it was a government response to murderous rioters and not peaceful protest. the subject of the june 4th incident is consequently not a matter of "free speech" but rather "appropriate response to a violent riot".

Shall I take your silence for agreement about the Saudi issue? The point is that the US has totally deported people because the communists wanted them deported/handed back.

i'd need to know more about the specifics of the cases you're referring to on the saudi issue, however firstly, the cases with the usa sending people back to communist countries wasn't to punish them for speech, and secondly, the point i raised wasn't about whether such a thing had ever happened, but rather, if you approved. do you?

Seeing a lot of “this little mewmew overstayed their visa by a few days and now they’re in ICE custody in unpleasant conditions awaiting deportation”

“this little mewmew was on a student visa and and engaged in political organizing in favor of terrorism/the elimination of allied country, now he’s being expelled from the country.”

“this little mewmew is middle-aged, came here as a child and speaks only English, had a green card despite having opportunity to get citizenship, plead guilty for a major crime, now they’ve been deported to a place where they don’t know anyone or speak the language”

“this little mewmew is an attractive wealthy White Canadian woman who is working in a company that sells a barely legal substance who thought the rules didn’t apply to her and found out that she was wrong” (seriously the THC aspect of the case is undersold)

And the whole thing seems like a show for people with the intellect and memory of goldfish.

The vast majority of these deportations would still be happening under any administration. The Trump administration is making a big deal about their deportations in part because that’s what their voters want. Scaring current illegal immigrants into “self-deportation”, scaring potential new immigrants into not coming into the United States, and discouraging colleges and employers from depending on visa-holders are additional benefits and explicitly desired by the people who voted for Trump.

All of this sound and fury seems likely to be mostly a smokescreen of the administration trying to make business as usual look like they’re Doing Something to their constituents. The squealing from the Lib/Left/Dems about the mewmews being deported is only helping the administration.

[palarien]

sketched this out at jury duty actually

[fairydriver]

if you post an image in discord itll round the corners, but once you hit a certain smallness it rounds into a circle. so basically if you make an image that is 32x32 and you post it in discord itll go from this

to this.

so you basically can just draw a little face in mspaint or something and paste it into discord and itll look like a little emoji. you can potentially mess around with this a lot, its proportional to your image going smaller and it doesnt have to be a square either.

[bixels]

Jesus man, relax.

[janitorpostman]

Their priority wasn't Jinx over Vi, their priority was League canon over Vi, which is kinda cringe. Did you know Vi's ult and E used to be called "Assault and Battery" and "Excessive Force" respectively until like ~3 years ago? That's the level of awareness we're working with here.

Vi had to be written to have compartmentalized her pain, otherwise 1) Caitlyn would have been the worst possible partner for her 2) it would've made absolutely no sense for Vi to become a cop as the League lore dictates. I wrote this reply under a reddit post that had the same concerns over Vi's writing in Arcane as you, so I'm just gonna copy&paste it here:

Well, the trauma Vi was allowed to explore by the narrative - the one that Silco caused - was explored.

If Vi addressed the stuff in prison, she'd have to address the question of who put her in there and who kept her in there, she'd have to address the fact that Piltover cops are corrupt and that her girlfriend is part of that system.

If she addressed the part where her parents got killed, she'd have to address the fact that someone killed them, and she'd have to address the fact that someone ordered their death (the council mama Kiramman was very likely a part of). She'd also have to examine her childhood, and the fact that she grew up poor surviving by doing petty crime, being a leader to a pack of orphan kids, jumping from roofs, fighting for her life in the streets, running away from cops. This life was so dangerous, in the alternative universe it even led to her premature death. She'd have to open her eyes to the fact that rich Piltover kids like her girlfriend never had to live through so much pain and struggle growing up. That would make Cait, 1) an enforcer; 2) privileged rich kid who always had food on her table; 3) a daughter of the council member who was likely in the position of power when the violent suppression of Zaun's riot, i.e the death of Vi's parents, was ordered - that'd make Cait the last person to understand how Vi feels and the last person to be able to help her with her trauma. And we don't want a wedge between Piltover's finest, one of the most popular LoL ships, do we.

In the end, Vi has her trauma compartmentalized because that's the only way in which the canon narrative can work. Not only Cait cannot resign so it makes sense for her to be with Vi, Vi has to end up an enforcer herself. And her unpacking her trauma and becoming part of the system that caused that trauma are two incompatible concepts.

And the same with Jinx by the way. Only the Zaun side of her trauma was allowed to be explored, i.e Vi abandoning her and Silco turning her against her own sister, the death of Vander, Mylo and Claggor etc. But what about the OG traumatic event, the event that sparked her abandonment issues in the first place? The death of Vi and Powder's parents, and the subsequent hardships the sisters had to face as a result of Piltover's oppression of Zaunites, were framed as this natural way of things that couldn't be helped. No justice for traumatized little Powder who clung to Vi as her mother figure because she was violently torn from one at age 5, no justice Vi's torture and imprisonment and no justice for their parents' death, not even an acknowledgement that justice should be seeked in the first place. You know. A rich politician mother dies, chemical warfare is due. A poor worker mother dies, that's just the way of life.

Season 1 failed Vi too. Jinx was always the writers' priority.

The way Arcane (even in Season 1) didn't address Vi's trauma from being imprisoned in Torture Jail as a child, gets even more egregious when compared to how Jinx's trauma was handled. From the very beginning, it was clear that the writers cared far more about Jinx than Vi.

I'm gonna focus only on Season 1 and ignore Season 2 (which is a whole other can of worms), because I want to highlight that the problems with Vi's writing already existed since the first season. So many people who are critical of Vi's writing in Season 2 praise her writing in Season 1, so I want to push back on that. Because Season 1 already failed Vi. Season 2 just multiplied that by 100.

Now, what Jinx went through in s1e3 was horrific and definitely enough to break a child's sanity. No denying that. Add to that her entire childhood leading up to that point, as well as preexisting mental illness, and the mental state of Jinx that we saw in episodes 4-9 was 100% realistic and believable. Even though she was taken in by Silco, then raised with tons of affection and validation, none of that was enough to heal her trauma. Good writing, no notes. Then we have Vi. Vi also went through season 1 episode 3, and her side of things were, in my opinion, just as potentially sanity-breaking. Then, she was immediately kidnapped and thrown into Torture Jail. As a child. In this jail, she was taken in by no one. Given affection and validation by no one. She got brutally beaten so many times that the wardens lost count. She felt crippling grief and guilt and worry the whole time but had no one to confide her feelings with. She had nothing.

At the same time as all this, Jinx had affection. She had validation. She had someone to confide her feelings with. Someone who even related to her trauma and could empathize. If anyone had hurt a hair on Jinx's head, Silco would have had them skinned alive. Silco was also the richest man in Zaun and its crime leader, so Jinx essentially grew up as the closest thing Zaun has to a princess. A mafia princess with an overly doting dad/trauma buddy. Remember, despite all this comfort, Jinx was still realistically shown to be horribly mentally damaged, and her trauma explored deeply and extensively in the show.

But Vi, who had none of the comforts Jinx did during the same duration of years, and received all the physical and mental abuse that Jinx didn't, somehow came out of the timeskip considerably saner and more well-adjusted than Jinx. Not only that, she also came out of the timeskip more forgiving and charitable towards enforcers than she was before her torturous imprisonment. And significantly more forgiving and charitable towards enforcers than Jinx, despite Jinx being immune to any enforcer abuse during the timeskip thanks to Silco having Marcus by the balls.

..........

Do you see why this writing is completely unbelievable and illogical? The excuses people give for this are:

1) "Vi is just that tough. She is mentally stronger than Jinx so it takes more to break her."

... sorry, but no 15-year-old on earth is so mentally tough that years of prolonged physical torture, verbal abuse, minimal sunlight, poor nutrition, no love or support, zero positive relationships, no proper medical care, and no psychological or psychiatric intervention, doesn't destroy them. Find me an example of a kid in real life who went through the equivalent of that and came out mostly sane, quipping and immediately ready to flirt with the cops.

2) "But Vi's trauma was shown in Season 1! She hallucinates Powder in the slums and also has a few lines saying how much prison sucked".

The Powder hallucinations occured while she was stabbed and delirious from blood loss. In every other scene, she showed no signs of mental illness. Her one or two lines saying Prison Bad were just that. Throwaway lines. If you removed them, would you be able to guess that Vi suffered in prison as a child? The Vi who is flirting and rapidly falling in love with an enforcer? No, from her behavior, you'd have no idea what she went through. Compare this to Jinx: If you removed all the verbal lines talking about the events of s1e3, would you still be able to guess what Jinx went through? Yes. Because it is shown in her character through more than just throwaway lines. It is shown visually, mentally, behaviorally.

3) "Vi just got lucky in genetics. Schizophrenia is hereditary and Powder was the unlucky child."

But Jinx's hallucinations aren't the only way her trauma is shown. Her entire personality is a response to her trauma. Even while lucid, she behaves in such a way that it's unmistakable this girl went through something fucked up as a child. Vi doesn't necessarily have to hallucinate or speak to dolls in order to show her trauma. The show just didn't bother to show it in any way whatsoever.

4) "Vi was hyper focused on her goal of killing Silco, and was suppressing the prison trauma."

So that means it should have been shown in Season 2 right? After Silco died and the dust settled? Guess what. It wasn't. The hallucinations she had in s2e5? All about Caitlyn and her break-up. Nothing about prison, Jinx, Vander, Mylo, Claggor, Benzo, Ekko, nothing. But then again, even Jinx's trauma responses were erased in Season 2 so like I said, Season 2 is another can of worms.

5) "Caitlyn is just that wonderful and kind and perfect and sweet that only 3 days with her undid 7 years' impact of torturous jail time and prior 15 years of class oppression."

Lol. Lmao even. That's all I can say.

TLDR: Vi during the Season 1 timeskip arguably faced a shit ton more physical, emotional, and mental torture than Jinx did, and it's illogical writing that she wasn't equally or even more damaged than Jinx. Even taking into account factors like Jinx's pre-existing mental illness or Vi's super duper ultra internal strength, it's still not believable. The fact is, Jinx has always been the writers' favourite. They did not care about writing/developing Vi's character as much as Jinx's. Season 1 already showed this. Vi deserved better from the start.

[originalartblog]

Happy new year! 🎉🎉🎉

Thank you all so much for being here again or thank you for joining us this year!

I haven't said thank you for all your wonderful and kind words in a very long time! All of you who sent me asks, whether is was to share how much you liked something, an idea, a thought or an event, and to all of you who leave comments in the form of compliments or commentary in the tags and replies:

THANK YOU!!!!! ❤💞💖💕

You make sharing my art on here so fun and you keep me going. I reread them frequently and wish I could find a way to answer you all more often.

I wish you all a year that brings you all you need and that you may come out the other side safe and sound💖

[randomnameless]

Why do the FEH devs insist on ignoring Nabatean lore so much?

I recently had a surprisingly cordial discussion on redshit with someone about the "nabateans = colonisers" take, and one of the main points raised was that the game was purposedly foggy around Nabateans/Sothis/their story because it would obviously favor a certain narrative (and thus make another narrative look, uh, not that marketable anymore).

To be honest, we still ended up with a product that had a lead go "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and yet that lead is still marketable enough to have raunchy cipher cards and 5 FEH alts, so I actually wonder if, while pissing on that lore had that purpose, it was ultimately pointless since Supreme Leader can still sell goodies despite her incarnation in FE16.

And not only Supreme Leader - but the entirety of WC where we basically have 70% of the cast crying/complaining about their "mixed blood" or lack of and basically adding their 10 cents to the "this race and its blood is the reason why the world sucks".

I mean, can you imagine Sylvain selling any goodies and alts if Flayn replied to his "wah wah people only are kind to me and want to fuck me because I have Nabatean blood :(" by some uncharacteristic "good for you, I have to hide my ears, had to dye my hair, have to lie about my family because if the truth is found out about my identity, I will be hunted and vivisected like an animal and harvested for parts by people who call my kin abominations - just like what happens in the game where the same people who call my kin "abominations" ally with a classmate who calls me a creature and pretends I am incapable of human feelings based on my race".

FE Fodlan's main selling point is its cast of students, for various reasons, but even if I tried to kid myself, Nopes and FEH made it clears : students are the main selling point.

If you spare more time and attention to the Nabatean plot/lore, the students either grow from "likeable" to "despicable" or worse, you won't gaf about them because yeah sure, Hilda might be upset because people expect things from her due to her crust, but it would feel like a "peanut" compared to Seteth's irrational (granted, it's not so irrational since GW exists) fear that Flayn's newest friends would dissect her if they learnt she was a Nabatean, and being conflicted by finally letting her have human friends and form bonds she crave, or protect her due to the trauma from the genocide of their species.

Don't get me wrong, I love peanuts, I mean, not everyone can have a tragik of loaded backstory!

And yet, given how this verse's DNA is "can you fight against the red emperor who uwus about you", they had to add copious amounts of Earl Grey to their games so there's no clear-cut factions :

The "Your alien blood and its influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command" vs "I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

is turned to :

"Your alien blood Crests and its your church's influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command"

"I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

Sprinkle with the cast's hammering here and there that the "reforms" might be needed - but never develop on what they are - and add a few baseless and groundless takes as a toping (basically everything Claude says about tolerance and the general "isolationism/foreign policy" stuff) and you get FE Fodlan where the Red Emperor's war isn't seen as the catastrophe it is in the other entries from the series!

Now, for FEH...

FWIW, the F!F!Billy's trailer had them try to explain that Sothis was a bit pissed about her slaughtered/massacred children when Nopes never gave any reason about why she was pissed - maybe on Billy's behalf bcs Jerry's dead, but come on, she would indeed deserve the medal of the worst parent in the franchise if that was the case, since Billy can murder her daughter without Sothis taking over ! - but given that they cannot write/go against the source game those characters are from.

They tried a bit, with B!Supreme Leader and Hegemongard's FB, but then it stopped (because she had no "new unit" released since then lol) and I can understand why : Hegemongard came out before the Supreme Emblem, and Hegemongard hates dragons who are seen/perceived as gods by some of their human followers. Come FE17, and now Supreme Emblem accepts Alear because they are "one of the good ones". We can come up with HCs and details and talk about what are emblems or if Hegemongard's views were only hers at the end of AM all day long... But imo, Doylist wise, it still feels it's a retcon because the devs from the main games tried to scrap and remove the most "controversial" traits she had.

For the other characters... Well, you see what Marianne is in FEH (but even in her base games), she's one of the few characters who reacts - in a way - to the partial history about relics and demonic beasts and all... only to give sad uwus to Maurice.

FE16 (and Nopes) refused to have any "student" character react to the Nabatean lore/reveal, about what are relics and all. There are no lines, Claude shared some knowledge in the explore section of VW's last chapter, but we don't have anyone muse or think or even talk about what are relics, what are crests, and what kind of fuckery their ancestors or the ancient humans of Fodlan did.

With that in mind, FEH can't do much : either they write Marianne in a retcon-y way like what happened for Hegemongard (and they're not afraid to piss on characterisation, look at Lyon!), or they flanderise her "character" and develop her around 3 lines she had in the game in her paralogue, and continue to give sad uwus about Momo when he was at best a guy who slaughtered and murdered so much that he abused the Nabatean turned into a relic to the point where he turned in a demonic beast even if he had a matching crest, or at worst, had been part of Nemesis's piñata party in Zanado and was something of a genocider.

Tldr :

Why FE Fodlan never gaf about Nabateans : earl grey + the marketable cast has to stay marketable and you can't sell peanuts at the same price you'd sell swordfish

Why FEH dgaf about Nabatean lore : they can't afford to retcon characters + they have to sell peanut alts with the same seasoning they had in their base game.

For what it's worth though, I think FEH is more daring than the base game(s) given how they gave more lines and screentime to Rhea - through her different alts - than GW. And they even designed her Halloween!alt's lines to piss on some of Claude's assertions, while the various FB involving members of the church also - indirectly - reply to some accusations thrown their way in FE16 when, FE16, never gave them an opportunity or lines to explain that those takes were full of dung.

*"but random, maybe she doesn't know that the crests she often decries is "dragon blood"!"

It's highly debatable, especially given what she and Hubert throw to Billy in CF - but even if she doesn't, Doylist wise we still have a character who, knowingly or not, says "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and who is never called out on her prejudice. That's more of an issue regarding the general writing though, she has to be a red emperor and took pages from Ashnard's book, and yet, the player must still feel bad and want to romance her, so her mindest/goal cannot be looked at too closely, because, I guess, even the devs thought it would be difficult to romance her (thus sell goodies!) if more light was shed on the "blood from this race corrupts our people" schtick -> which in turn would also make characters whose backstory and gimmick rely on "crying about crests" be way less likeable, thus marketable and able to sell goodies.

[snowy-doe]

I hope it's still okay to reply to this! I have a lot of thoughts about dressage. It's a very hot topic, and there is no shortage of horses with pain faces, gaping mouths, and blue tongues receiving top scores at the grand prix level.

I believe it raises an interesting discussion about individual actions vs the culture that normalizes and enable unethical practices. There were a couple of good posts shared in the comments already about how the image of dressage has evolved to put pressure on riders to have their horses perform extremely exaggerated and unnatural movements in order to win iirc.

The FEI has faced a ton of criticism for their role in perpetuating treatment that is no longer socially acceptable. However, they've continuously dodged and weaved around addressing many of the most pressing issues.

This article provides an overview of the immense controversy surrounding dressage, the uncertain future of the sport's social license to operate, the tension between stakeholders, and how the horse world has attempted to address it over the past year.

The 2025 FEI Sports Forum is scheduled to start in a few days (March 31), where the working group they appointed to create an action plan specifically for dressage will present for the first time. It will be interesting to see what comes of it, and if it will lead to any real change.

horsethoughtbarn 1 dressage

what are everyones thoughts on dressage ive been very interested in it as late as i enjoy the classical approach to biomechanics and harmony and balance and have been very discouraged by the state of modern dressage vs classical what are your thoughts on the sport and its status and its ethics and also what are your favorite cool ethical dressage moves and routines and riders or your thoughts on the sport as a whole or anything really i just want to learn more about it and talk about it

[prince-liest]

I’m a sex-repulsed ace, and reading the latest chapter of 666 (as well as your analysis here on Tumblr) made me realize that I have been subconsciously thinking about MY OWN sexuality from an allo perspective? And that it has kinda been messing me up?? Like, ever since I learned that sexual attraction was actually a Thing and that it’s Important To People, I had been carrying around a fear of being deficient in some way and not being able to love to the same extent as allos. (1)

Even though I know logically that’s complete garbage and totally untrue, I felt left out of the loop because people seemed to care strongly about this thing I couldn’t even imagine. Whenever it looked like a relationship might happen I panicked for a reason that I couldn’t understand. But now I’m starting to realize that it’s because I was subconsciously terrified of an ‘ulterior motive’ behind the other person’s reasons for wanting to be with me. (2) That part of the reason they even cared was because of something I don’t experience. So thank you, because this realization just clicked into place while reading your work. The thing is, this way of thinking was just internalized in such a way that I didn’t even realize it was there until literally this week. And I think you’re right; one of the main reasons behind that is because I’ve always consumed media written from an allo perspective. (3) If ace/aros are shown at all, they’re depicted as “lacking” and their character development usually revolves around being “fixed” by the story. When I was ~10 years old my mom sometimes let me watch the Big Bang Theory with her (looking back, maybe not the best decision). Anyways, there was one episode deep into the series where Sheldon (who for the past nineish seasons was probably the closest thing to mainstream ace rep) has sex with his girlfriend for the first time. (4) Afterwards, he says something along the lines of “that was better than I thought it would be”, and it’s presented as a Very Good Thing and a big step in their relationship. I think a lifetime of stuff like that makes it very easy to internalize aphobia and feel like the lesser part of the relationship. Or to feel like the other partner is making a huge sacrifice to be with you. That got wayy too long, sorry. All that was just a lot of words to say that I appreciate you. Take care of yourself!(5)

The portrayal of asexuality that you see in media being almost exclusively as you described is very tedious to me because it presumes that something is inherently lacking in aro/aceness rather than that feeling of "lacking" being something that is induced by societal norms. Actually, one of the things that I find additionally alienating is that fandom spaces specifically have been getting better and better about ace characters - but got damn does fandom not jive with aromanticism. Like, a character doesn't want to fuck? That's becoming a liiiittle more fine, it's 2024, we stan consent. But not shipping someone romantically?? Not so easy, now.

I'm glad that my work has been something that resonated with you in this respect! Alastor cares a lot about his reputation as a demon but is pretty blatantly a person who could not possibly give less of a shit about being "wrong" for not being experiencing romantic or sexual attraction. The explanation Viv gave at one point for his own understanding of himself (that he thinks he's just "waiting for the right woman") actually stuck out to me a lot because it's a very "well, nothing is wrong with me for not feeling anything, it's the world that's failed to produce a suitable person" perspective.

But having that kind of confident perspective of your own rightness in the world is really not often portrayed in media, or even in fandom, which even ten years ago was still in the throes of standardizing "Oh, no! Me, gay? These feelings are so wrong!" style m/m content and is honestly not that far off from essentially that for aro/ace characters.

Anyway, all of that is to say that there's not yet much out there that doesn't frame allo/amatonormative values as the default that "even aro/ace people can (and should want to) achieve," and that it's really fun to write a fic that is unequivocally from the perspective of a character who is aroace and doesn't see it as even remotely a fault in himself. Does he have moments where he's a little confused and trying to process how things fit for him? Absolutely. But he just doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who thinks he owes romance to Vox of all people, hahaha. I've written him trying to conform to allo/amatonormativity more with Mimzy, because I think the social standards of their time could push him into it, but Vox? Absolutely not, he does not respect Vox enough for it to even enter his mind.

And then, on the other hand, writing it from an aroace perspective centers the way that romantic and sexual interest can feel like a betrayal of a good thing. With a character like Alastor, it frames romantic and sexual attraction the same alien way that we usually see aromanticism and asexuality framed as.

In the end, this is just one of a plethora of different experiences that aro/ace people can have, but it's one that I really wanted to see represented more, so I'm very happy to write it. I'm glad that you're enjoying it!

[lanternlightss]

Yaaay writing requests ^^. Do you think we could get the old mondstadt gang (everyone lives) reacting to venti after ascending do godhood? 👀. I think it'd be interesting >.<

As beings of Anemo, there is little reason for wind wisps to partake in the act of breathing. Why would they, those made of that same air as the one whirling around them, need to? This remains true for Venti, even after they had taken a form alike to Cecil’s own.

If. If only Venti did not take a liking to breathing, pretending—for a moment—that they have lungs to use, the subtle up and down of their chest, at first a conscious choice that you could see being made, moving towards one they do without thought. Something human. Something mortal. It makes them happy, to be able to mimic such abilities, such mundanity.

This is, to say, that he is impressed they have learned how to do it whilst they sleep (their wings twitching intermittently); as he feels the occasional soft breaths (he counts—a full minute of complete stillness, followed by a shuttering, jagged exhale, repeat) being blown across the hand that they rest beside, having used his left arm and waist as a pillow during the night.

He does not mind, not at all. Had sat up to place his right hand atop their head once he was not blinking sleep from his eyes, playing with the strands.

Briefly, he entertains the thought of humming them a lullaby, or perhaps, a tune to celebrate this moment, that they are all here, together, still. He dismisses it the moment he begins to toss the idea around, knowing that those same people included in that “they are all here, together, still” in the room with him (Amos, in her own makeshift bed beside him—Cecil “borrowed” the one he is using, truth be told, he should be in the room one down—with Valentina besides her sat in a chair, and Felix standing at the entrance) would kick a fit if he even dared to strain his voice further (orders from the healers.) How elated he had been when they told him he could still talk, simply had to be quiet, low.

“…how asleep, are they?”

Aha, speaking of his dear companions.

Cecil inclines his head towards Felix, though his eyes never stray from Venti. “I do not believe they will be waking up, for a long while.” (Thank the winds for that, they deserve it—he had heard that whilst he and Amos’ injuries were being attended to, the rest of them had been running themselves particularly ragged dealing with the everything.)

He hears Felix sigh heavily in response, and the shifting of fabric. Shoulders, presumably, fell? He brings his eyes up to scrutinize—the man looks one awful sway away from collapsing.

“Good, that means we can have this discussion in peace.”

That … particular phrasing does not inspire a good feeling. He forces himself not to show outward unease at the words, instead, curling the hand in Venti’s hair to touch at their forehead, and lightly gripping what he can of the sheets with the other.

“Are you sure we should be having any discussion? Both you and Valentina should get rest, too—you look a dead man walking, Felix.”

And—there, Felix’s relaxed shoulders seem to tense, his jaw clamping and working in a gritted motion subtly. Cecil is waved off, both in tone and by the fluttering of his hand, “I will rest easier after this.”

He chances a glance over, to where Valentina has scooted to the very edge of her seat, clutching at her knees in a white-knuckled grip, with furrowed brows. Amos, meanwhile, is propped against pillows, slightly slouching, her bangs and unbraided strands casting a shadow over her eyes, as she burns her gaze into Felix.

The first to speak of them is Valentina, leaning forwards: “Which discussion have we not already taken care of?”

Felix does not look away from Venti, but a grimace overtakes his face, angling his head in a way to hide himself behind both his hair and the large fur of his cape. He seems rather… uncomfortable, now—his crossed arms pulling further into his chest, one hand flexing. It continues to stay this way, even when gesturing to where Cecil’s wisp cuddles against him, and speaking the words, “What do we do about them?”

Her eyes harden, back straightening in an instant. “What is it that you mean.”

(Cecil is quick, to check on Amos. Her bangs have now completely covered her eyes, and he cannot truly gauge a reaction. He worries the sheets between his fingers.)

That discomfort shines, in the floundering of Felix’s limbs—his arms flinging outwards, his hand waving about as he grasps for words. “The whole point of this was that we did not want a God to rule over us, the way they had! And then, whatever it is of that…. those heavens, has decided we were wrong in that thinking, that they sent us another God to deal with, not a moment’s peace from the previous? Are we to never escape from the divine?”

Valentina stands, her mouth twisted into a tight-lipped frown, both her fists raised to her sides and clenching. She is stopped from going farther by Amos raising an arm in front of her.

A brief spark of irritation whisks throughout Cecil’s chest, and he wishes Felix had chosen a better moment to do this—Amos, as well, is not supposed to talk above a quiet voice, or for long periods of time. “I fear we would have encountered divinity whether we wanted to or not—tell me, why is it that many had told us of a frozen land, yet when the storm vanished, the snow was fading?” Her arm shakes imperceptibly, “Had it not been for … what decision it was, that transpired before we succeeded, we would have come to face the God responsible for declaring the war.”

(That is, to say nothing of their neighboring nation and Boreas’ wolves….)

She turns, and, he notes, that for the first time since Venti’s presence had made itself known (when they had near silently glided into the room, the door creaking shut just so, with Anemo slowly dissipating from their form, and playfully tousled Cecil’s bangs in a light breeze) Amos looks directly at the God, who has huddled closer—they seem to be trying to lay themselves over all of him—whilst the conversation had gone on.

Her eyes seem to soften, staring a few seconds longer, then dropping her attention to the end of the bed. She turns away, her arm falling to her lap, hands lacing together and nails gently clinking against each other.

“Perhaps we should count ourselves fortunate, that of all beings to ascend, it was the Elf.”

Felix scowls and presses his back against the wall, the sound of his cape sliding across it echoing, nearly drowning out the even quieter grumblings of his, “Fortunate is not the word I would use.”

How terrible for him, that for as far as he is from Cecil, his words still ring clear—words that cause that spark of irritation to flare into a burst of small flames, flames that have to be forcefully smothered out. Over the little time that the bard has not been able to walk the grassy lands, has he forgotten? Nothing, not a single noise, escapes from those who always listen, who keep their ears pinned to the striking chords of the winds.

His eyes narrow, bordering on a glare. And this is not quite shaping to be a “discussion”; would it be a proper one, they would actually be going somewhere, and not talking in practically circles.

“Why unfortunate?” Felix’s head snaps to him, and Cecil (pushes the flames) risks skimming his hand to where Venti’s right ear is, holding his palm there (a useless gesture, really, yet he does it anyhow). “You would not start anything if there was no value to be had of it—so, please, what is it you wish to truly say?”

The man opens his mouth, pauses. Cecil continues to stare, lowering his chin, his brows drawing together, upward, and the edges of his mouth threatening to fall.

Boots scuff against the floor, when Felix titters side to side, considering. A breath rushes out of him, harsh. Then, as if it were a leaf fallen onto still waters and sending ripples across the surface, he utters: “If they turn against us—what are we to do?”

Try as he might not to (flames slipping between the gaps of his fingers), Cecil lurches forward, and halts himself rather awkwardly halfway through it hearing Venti make an indescribable noise. He looks to them, seeing them curl inward, their brows knitted, wings dazedly moving to shield their body. A wince pulls at him, as he adjusts back to where he was (almost to, he should say—positioning himself to hide them from Felix’s view, his torso bent over them), and the hand covering their ear runs to their hair, massaging; they start to relax from it, wings spreading, and nestling their face into his waist.

(A splendid sight, yet… a bitter feeling forms, coating his mouth.)

Scratching at where two strands—resembling the ones they had as a wisp—sprout, he presses, a hiss to it, “Turn against us..?”

He holds his hands in the air, by his chest. “I know. I know, I have seen them.”

If the emotion of “incredulous” could be humanized, Cecil would be the perfect role, right then. Has he? Has he??

Admittedly, for most of the time he has been awake, he can count on one hand and two extra fingers how much he was fully lucid during it. When the pain constricting in his chest was not clouding his vision, when there was no fog laid over his mind, his surroundings dizzy, his limbs feeling inexplicably heavy. Shoving this all aside, however—during those lucid moments, and finding Venti waiting for him, their entire demeanor brightening at their locking of eyes; he noticed how terror and apprehension threaded through their being.

He does not think they have a capacity to harm—not for those they love, not for those they have a branch of trust to—by the fact that they cannot bring themself to hold his wrist in a firm grip without panicking of potentially “breaking him.”

(Or that they, wind now trapped in a bottle, a shell for them to be tied to, try next to everything to compact themselves to the size they once were. From curling into a ball on the wooden chair, from using their wings to hide themself away, from bowing and crumbling in the cradle of his palms.

How they are bigger and powerful, certainly, yet the world around them still remains so much more than they are.)

Felix slumps. “It would only be as a precaution. We should be prepared—”

There is a clanging of armor, signaling Valentina’s steps inching towards Felix. When she speaks, her voice is stern, tinged slightly by bafflement.

“No, you are aware, just as I, to what they are capable of! They are listening to the people, and doing what they can for them!” Her hand clenches, metal shuddering. “And even… they have been this way, they stopped at nothing to keep my clan safe, out in the frozen barrens. We should have seen a sign by now if they were to change, the winds are simple creatures. There is no reason for this precaution!”

“Are we to lay all our trust in what was? Their knowledge is more! They are not such a simple creature! They know intimately the hopes and dreams of mere humans—what that does. They have become privy to how far mortality can go, to how much a human can take before their life is snuffed from them, and now they have the ability to do something about it.”

He sweeps a hand, jerkily, to the two in bed, during the last words.

Cecil bristles. Their injuries are not to be used for matters like this. No one should have expected that death would not be nipping at their heels during the revolt, that they would not have to grab on to the world of living and dig. A retort readies on his lips, lips pulled back, only to—still.

(Oh. There is no air being blown across.

Oh.)

Valentina side-steps to the other side of Amos’ bed, hackles fully raised, a righteous glare upon her face. “You truly know nothing of the wind, then, if you believe they would willingly go back to those restraining—!”

“Enough.”

They both startle. Cape, whipping. Armor, clanking.

“Enough,” Amos repeats, the words sounding as though they were scraped from her throat. “The both of you… shall we have someone watch over, when you are outside here? You have swung knives.”

In unison, their shoulders hunch. She draws a soft breath, half-watching Valentina stride over to grab the canteen of water from the side table, offering it to her—while Felix seems to attempt to meld into his cape. She takes it into a tight grip, the tips of her fingers trembling, but does not bring it to her lips. Opting to swish the water inside, instead.

“A godhood is delicate,” taps at the canteen, the sound reverberating, “Especially one at … at the very beginning, of their divinity. A sign of change would not be in mortal lifetimes—it drips, one by one, slow.”

She turns to face them, once more. Trailing from where Venti’s wings flutter, the sleeves of their robe half splayed over the bed, to where Cecil is furled around them, a few pieces of hair strands falling over his eyes as he bows further at her stare. Eyes meet, hers, tinged in an old pain and weighted by exhaustion; his, bordering on guarded, cracked with pleading.

Underlying all of that is an understanding.

(You can never quite understand a God’s thinking, will only get to see the glimpses of what layers that sit just underneath the surface, a scratch of it, but love—

A God’s love, their eyes and arms locked around you, is something all encompassing.)

“We should continue to offer them the kindness they gave us.” Another tap, another tink. “Whatever path they follow down, whatever they choose to do, hundreds or thousands of years after this—at the least, they will remember having us by their side. Should they give an inkling, now, however—”

“All these what-ifs,” Cecil murmurs bitterly, withholding a sneer. “Could we, say, let them take their own steps first? They hardly have a proper footing!”

The puff of air that escapes her is almost amused. Her gaze drifts downwards, where the water of the canteen sloshes as it is tipped to her mouth. She sets it gently into her lap, after, a chorus of clinking coming from the repetitive thumping of her fingers.

“Of course.” She hands the canteen to Valentina, and the trembling of her limbs seems to have worsened. The blunt ends of her nails press into the palm of her hands, briefly, and she goes to pull the bed’s cover up to her chest, hiding her arms by tucking it over her fists. Then, “I have not seen you receive any medical care, these past days. Have you been shirking?”

Venti’s wings puff, a minute flinch going throughout their body. He pets at their hair, twirling it between the gaps of fingers—he had been checked on the day before his wisp had visited, and watched as they checked Amos’ health, too, quietly asking if the soreness had lessened, after the healer left, and her reply of rolling her shoulders and commenting that it does not feel like she is being crushed.

“Hee, I was hoping you would not catch that…” He nuzzles into their head. Backs a bit away, nary an inch or so, and brings his hand to their jaw, stroking his thumb along their cheeks. Venti tenses, brows scrunching. He continues, mock whispering, “Psst, Miss Amos revealed one of my secrets, can you believe…? Quite mean of her, hmpf! You would be my knight and defend my honor, would you not, Venti? My dearest?”

There is a pause, where he can see them debate with whether they should “awaken” or not. He waits, humming lowly—and is rewarded when two glittering green-blue teal jewels blink up at him.

“Knight..?”

“Yes! I shall gather you a shield, so that we can deflect her peddling—”

“My deepest apologies for not wishing your wounds to infect.”

Cecil leans to stick his tongue at her (she wrinkles her nose in jest), feeling more than seeing Venti sit taller, their hands moving to grasp at his wrist. A perturbed expression greets him when he turns back to them, searching him for anything critical. His heart squeezes, flips, squeezes.

He reaches out to brush his hand against a braid, tracing the poof part that is held together by a band. Hopes that the twinkling in his stare is enough to convey Do not worry, a “go along.” The ruffled feathers of their wings start to smooth out, fluttering about, as they squint at him—message received. “How many missed?”

“Only one session, I promise. My bandages… may need replacing, a little,” ducks his head, bonking against their forehead, and offers up a gentle, crooked smile. “Walk me back?”

They graze their own hand over his, holding it loosely. Nods, and lets go, standing from the chair, using their foot to push it away farther. Cecil shakes off his arm as he yanks the cover down to the end of the bed, throwing his legs over the side, the soles of his feet hitting the floor. Venti holds their hand out for him to take, pulling him up (though, he notes, they keep their fingers intertwined tightly with his.)

“You will be going?” Felix questions, uncrossing his arms.

“Mmm. I believe Amos has had enough of my shenanigans.” He waves his hand, stepping in front of Venti, having them still out of Felix’s view.

“… if you need any he—”

“Fret not, I have the most wonderful guiding wind!” He leans into Venti, as subtly he can, beaming. They are besides the man, now, and he tugs them closer to the doorway. “We should be on our way now, might be able to catch a healer along our journey.”

He waves to Amos and Valentina, receiving waves back (though, on Valentina’s part, seem slightly reluctant to see the both of them go.) They both skirt around the doorway and down the hall, where Cecil exhales, his shoulders sagging.

If they wish to still discuss such a topic, fine, if that is what will bring them ease in this environment. Everyone is on edge and wary, equally they are relieved and excited. He has seen how some shuffle around the new God, confused how to interact with the wisp. But if they wish to do it while the person they discuss is there, unaware, they are welcome to be his guest to explain to Venti why that topic involved which of the best ways to stab them in the back was—especially when there are more important issues that should be focused on! That warrior, in particular….

Urgh.

He squeezes Venti’s hand, placing his head upon their shoulder.

“My darling knight, I love you no matter what.”

…they squeeze his hand, ears flicking, and wings puffing once more.

[arsenicflame]

why is it so easy to show my friends so much grace i can never show myself? a friend doesnt respond to me for a week, a month, longer, and it doesnt bother me, because i know theyll get to me when its in their bandwidth, i trust and love my friends and want them to do whats best for them! but when i stare at my dms and replies and think of about 3 words to say before blanking.... no... i am a bad friend and everyone is judging me and getting annoyed. i could respond if i really tried, couldnt i?

[contingencyprotocol]

people you know you can criticize the baby plot line without referring to Carmen as a “walking womb” or “walking vagina” or “baby making machine” right?

if your point is that the plot line is sexist, I would personally try not using incredibly sexist language when critiquing it.