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moodykylo · 3 years ago

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Sleep Deprived

CW: Sleep deprivation, canon typical self loathing

Spoilers for tpp season 2&3

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Juno Steel was exhausted. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept a full night on the Carte Blanche, and it was starting to catch up to him.

Juno’s sleep was becoming increasingly restless as the nights came and went; each night leaving old memories rearing their ugly heads. When he was able to sleep, it was anything but peaceful. Whenever Juno found himself drifting off, nightmares would begin behind his eyes, jolting him awake. He had to stop sleeping in the same room as Nureyev in fear of waking him. Now, he was alone, nightmares becoming worse and worse. He had really thought he was done with these childish nightmares of Sarah and Benzaiten, but now they were increasing in both frequency and fervency.

Now, Juno was sitting in his own room, on his bed, eyes burning with fatigue and brain on fire with memories. He sat in his bed, eyelids drooping as he fought with sleep.

After about half an hour, sleep finally won and Juno’s dreams were anything but sweet. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he thrashed in his sleep, mumbling quietly, behind his eyes a scene of the past replaying like a favorite movie, until finally, he woke with a gasp, chest heaving.

Juno groaned, standing from his bed. He wandered out into the hallway - if he was going to be awake, he might as well make himself useful. He stopped in the middle of the hall to lean on the wall as dizziness hit him with no warning. Frustrated with the spell, he pushed through it, rubbing at his eyes.

Juno entered the kitchen, taking out his comms and squinting at it. The rest of the Carte Blanche crew would be up soon. At least he’d gotten some sleep that night, he thought to himself with a bitter laugh. He got himself a glass of water before walking over to the stove and starting to cook a simple meal as breakfast for the crew.

Contrary to popular belief, Juno did know how to cook. Sure, his ability wasn’t anything spectacular, but he did know how to cook something decent. Today, “something decent” was pancakes. He made almost every pancake perfectly round, saving the oblong one for himself (although he could only manage to eat half of it).

Juno was just finishing up making the pancakes for almost everyone on the ship - although Buddy would be having her usual morning cocktail instead - when Jet walked into the kitchen, bright and early as usual.

“Juno. You’re awake before usual,” Jet said before gazing at the pancakes. “And you’ve cooked. This is out of character, you sleep the latest of everyone,” Jet observed.

“Hey big guy. I was just awake early, couldn’t sleep.” Juno shrugged. He wasn’t exactly lying per se, but he wasn’t telling the truth, either. Juno rubbed his eyes as another dizzy spell threatened to make him lose his balance.

Jet looked Juno once over without saying a word, and then he grabbed a plate of pancakes. Rita walked into the kitchen next, eyes wide upon seeing Juno standing there.

“Mistah steel! You’re never awake this early! You made pancakes too!? What, is it my birthday or somethin’? No, no my birthday ain’t for another few months-” Rita rambled before Juno cut her off to explain.

“Just couldn’t sleep. Wanted to do something nice for once, I guess,” he mumbled, leaning against the counter to keep himself steady - why was he so dizzy? Well, it could be the lack of sleep, but it had to be more than that, he thought to himself before Rita’s voice pulled him out of thought.

“Awww Mistah Steel, that was awful sweet of ya. Thanks, boss!” Rita said before grabbing her pancakes.

“Not your bo- You’re welcome, Rita.” Juno sighed, a tired smile playing on his lips.

There was a short wait before the rest of the crew was in the kitchen all with varying reactions.

“Woah Steel, didn’t know you were capable of being awake before noon, or that you could cook!” Vespa joked before taking a look at Juno, he looked absolutely exhausted. She walked closer to him, talking so only he could hear. “You alright? You look tired.”

Juno sighed before pushing the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Just fine Vespa, just couldn’t sleep last night.” He blinked hard, trying to get rid of the thick weight of exhaustion from his eyes.

Vespa almost said something else before Buddy walked into the kitchen.

“What’s this about Juno cooking?” Buddy said looking over at the pancakes and her cocktail sitting on the counter, not missing how utterly wrecked Juno himself looked. She had known Juno had not been sleeping and saw it was now catching up with the ex P.I. “I’m impressed, wonderful job.” she praised.

“Thanks…” Juno replied timidly. He was always struck with an odd pride when Buddy complimented his work.

Before any other words could be said, Nureyev entered the kitchen. “Juno, you’re up early…” His eyes were filled with an unspoken worry. Juno just shook his head, already knowing Peter wanted to ask what was wrong.

“I’m fine, Ransom.” Juno replied before sitting down abruptly; standing was becoming too much work, his knees felt weak and his vision was fading in and out, he was cold, was anyone else cold? It didn’t seem that way…

“Look everyone I’m fine, I just couldn’t sleep so I figured why don’t I make myself useful for once in the morning.” Juno said again, a tad too crankily. The tone made both Nureyev and Buddy raise an eyebrow, but the conversation was already moving forward when Rita started talking about a stream. Nureyev grabbed his pancakes and Buddy grabbed her meal replacement, a pinot noir, and sat down.

When everyone was distracted from the discussion, Juno snuck out of the kitchen and into his bedroom to hide under his blankets - he was freezing. He knew that this probably meant a fever. The chills doubled with the room spinning when he moved too quickly and the splitting headache he had, he knew he was completely fucked for the day.

He closed his eyes for a second before someone was knocking on his door, next thing he knew he was on his feet grabbing clothes from his closet. “Come in,” he said quietly.

“Juno darling.” Nureyev’s gently called out before walking into the room. “Are you alright? You left rather quickly.” Peter looked over to Juno picking out clothes from the closet.

“Yeah, just changing into some actual clothes…” Juno responded, putting his selected clothes on the bed. He discreetly grabbed onto the bedpost as the worst dizzy spell that day hit him.

“Juno?” Peter asked as he watched Juno grip the bedpost and sway dangerously. “What’s going on?”

“‘M fine, just need a minute.” Juno straightened himself out trying to pretend nothing had even happened. “What’s up? What did you need?” Juno looked at Peter, shaking his head to clear the blurriness that was obstructing his view of his beautiful boyfriend, his makeup already done for the day, and suddenly he was embarrassed to be seen in his current state.

“Are you okay? What happened just then?” Nureyev walked closer to Juno, taking note of how tired he looked, of the slight flush he could see on Juno’s face. “Are you sick? You look exhausted.”

Juno mentally cursed himself, he was busted - he knew he couldn’t lie to Peter Nureyev, whenever he tried the thief saw through his lies immediately.

“No, I’m not sick. Just haven’t been sleeping very well lately. It’s kind of starting to take a physical toll.” He sat down on his bed, too weak to stand, a chill running up his spine, accentuating his weakness.

“Nightmares again?” Peter asked Juno, to which the other nodded. Peter took note of Juno’s state and frowned, concern evident on his face.

“Are you sure you’re not ill? You seem to have a fever.” Nureyev cupped Juno’s face, frown deepening at the heat he found.

“Careful Nureyev, you don’t want to get frown lines.” Juno joked before leaning into the coolness of Peter’s hands.

“Now isn’t the time for jokes, darling, I am rather worried about you.” Peter said to Juno, cupping his too-hot cheek.

“‘M okay.” Juno said, still leaning into Peter.

“You don’t seem okay, dear… I’ll be right back, alright?” Nureyev asked, sitting Juno down on his bed. He was going to get Vespa, she was the ship’s doctor, after all, she would know what to do.

“...Okay,” Juno responded after a beat.

Peter took a final look at Juno, smiling at him worriedly before walking out of the room and beginning the search for Vespa.

With Nureyev’s absence, Juno laid down on his bed, wrapping himself in blankets, trying to keep his eyes open. It was a grueling task, but he didn’t really feel like reliving every traumatic event he’d ever had upon falling asleep.

Sleep almost won, but just barely, Nureyev was back in Juno’s room with Vespa before the former P.I. could succumb to slumber.

“Steel, I knew something was up with you this morning,” Vespa said as she entered the room, looking Juno over.

Nureyev stood out of Vespa’s way, nervously watching, he’d seen Juno deal with quite a lot, and perhaps that’s what made him more nervous.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to examine you?” Vespa asked Juno, who only nodded listlessly.

“Yes to which one Steel?” Vespa asked sharply, her worry coming off as impatience, she was used to Juno’s sharp tongue, and seeing him acting so unlike himself was worrying.

“First one. Haven’t been sleeping well.” Juno slurred exhaustedly.

Vespa looked at him sympathetically, she understood sleepless nights due to nightmares, she, however, had never had a time where the sleeplessness caught up to her quite as bad as it did Juno.

“There’s nothing I can really do besides treat the fever Ransom told me about.” Vespa explained, pulling out fever reducers and handing them to Juno, who swallowed them dry and laid down.

Vespa and Peter exchanged a worried look before Vespa left the room.

Juno watched Vespa leave through half-closed eyes, fighting against sleep. He ultimately lost the battle, however, when he was asleep within minutes of Vespa’s departure.

Peter watched Juno fall asleep, sighing in relief watching the ex-detective’s features grow soft and unguarded in sleep. Unfortunately for Juno, this peaceful sleep didn’t last long.

After about an hour of Juno sleeping “peacefully”, Nureyev watched Juno’s expression twist into discomfort, sweat rolling down his boyfriend’s face, cheeks slightly flushed from fever. Juno started mumbling incoherently, terrified of a threat invisible to Nureyev’s eyes.

Nureyev considered waking Juno as he watched him grow more and more terrified, but ultimately didn’t need to, Juno woke on his own, a strangled cry ripping from his throat.

Juno couldn’t remember what his dream was about when he woke, hearing his own screams and feeling tears slipping down his cheeks, but he was still shaken anyway. He remembered hearing screams and feeling cool tears in his dream but maybe that was just his own.

Nureyev was staring at him, looking at Juno with such worry that it made the P.I. feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t like being the cause of such a look.

“Sorry, I’m okay.” Juno said timidly, watching Peter relax a little.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asked, but regretted it when he saw Juno visibly tense at the question.

“I don’t exactly remember what happened.” Juno explained, weariness seeping out with every word.

Nureyev only nodded, letting Juno drift off again.

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Many hours passed of the same cycle of Juno sleeping and waking with a strangled noise, whether it be a gasp or a scream, and Juno could tell it was only stressing Peter out, so when dinner finally came, Juno practically begged Nureyev to take a break from watching him.

“I’ll be fine, It’ll only be an hour at most.” He’d said, Nureyev, nodding and leaving with a look of apprehension.

Juno sighed, he knew why Nureyev was hesitant to leave, why he was always hesitant to leave; because Juno himself had left him alone.

After the guilt wore off, Juno found his eyes growing heavy once more and he fell back to sleep.

It was quiet for a while before Juno awoke again, sweat pouring down his face, and a faint knock at the door.

“Come in,” Juno said quietly, expecting Vespa to be checking in on him, however, that was not who it was.

“Ah Juno, I hope I didn’t wake you.” It was Buddy, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked into Juno’s room.

“You didn’t wake me, I was already awake,” Juno said, embarrassed; he respected Buddy, and here he was looking like a mess.

Buddy frowned. “Ah well, I’d like to have a chat with you,” Buddy said, her nerves ever slightly showing.

Juno’s chest tightened with fear. “Um, yeah, sure…” Juno replied, feeling like a child caught with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

“You’re not in any sort of trouble. I just want to ask, are you alright? I’ve just noticed you haven’t been sleeping recently, and well, I’ve been woken up a few times from hearing you scream.” Buddy explained looking at Juno with pity.

Juno felt small and weak. “I’m sorry.” He responded meekly, guilt ever so evident in his tone.

“Nonsense,” Buddy replied sitting on Juno’s bed, keeping her distance but still sitting close enough to be a comfort. “It’s no bother to me, it only concerns me that you’re bottling things up again.” She gave Juno a knowing look.

“Sorry.” Juno replied, looking at the floor. He felt the guilt crawl up from his chest and into his throat and before he knew it, he was crying in front of the person he respected the most.

Buddy felt a pang of sadness but did not let it show, she kept her composure and began to speak again.

“I know things haven’t been easy for you. I don’t want you bottling all these emotions up, how about you talk about these nightmares of yours with me? No pressure but, it might help.” Buddy said, placing a comforting hand on Juno’s back.

And with that, Juno began to sob, spilling his guts to Buddy, telling her everything that happened in his dreams. He wailed and retold the memories to Buddy, stopping with hiccuping breaths.

Buddy had known of the former P.I’s struggles but hadn’t known the extent of them all. Perhaps she could blame the fever but she hadn’t expected all the walls Juno had built up to crumble at that moment, but she knew one thing - Juno trusted her.

Juno couldn’t believe how easily he’d just said everything to Buddy, his captain, and the person who could kick him out of the crew at the slightest wrong move. He didn’t care, he finally felt light, lighter than he’d felt in months, and after a few moments, he spoke.

“So much for you not being my therapist,” Juno said with a tired smile.

Buddy laughed, the sound hearty and melodic, making Juno laugh along with her.

“I may not be your therapist, but I do care about you, Juno, and that counts for something,” Buddy replied once her laughter died down.

Juno smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, Buddy.” He laid down, suddenly too exhausted to continue sitting upright.

“Any time dear, now I do believe it’s time you get some rest, hmm?” Buddy suggested, standing from the bed.

Juno nodded, closing his eyes and drifting off, and as Buddy left he fell asleep, staying asleep, peacefully for the first time in a good long while.

#the penumbra podcast #sickfic #Junoverse #juno steel #peter nureyev #rita tpp #buddy aurinko #vespa ilkay #jet siquliak #tpp season 2 spoilers #tpp season 3 #tpp #fanfiction #tpp fanfic

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my-reality-my-rules · 3 years ago

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Any suggestion on which youtube "subliminal" channel I should avoid?? I've heard about this celestial subliminal that people talk about so there might be other channel that shifters should avoid?? thanks in advance though I love your page <333

[thanks for this ask!]

well, to start, i don't want to namedrop (i still respect privacy), so i won't actually list off channel names here. however, i can give you a few tips on how to try and secure yourself some good deals.

lmao why tf did i phrase it like it's business,,, anyways

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(1) check the amount of views

i hate to say this—mostly because it sounds somewhat cruel—but the views of a video matter. it can tell you how effective a subliminal is, if only for the idea that people regularly come back to listening to it. while i don't doubt there are genuinely helpful ones with a small amount of views out there; the problem is, the smaller the view count, the less you know about the subliminal's success rate. subliminal videos with, say, less than one-thousand views are largely untested—if that makes sense—and that's what makes me a bit more wary when seeing them.

if there's one thing from every research project i have to remember, it's that the arguments made need sufficient evidence to back up the claim. that goes for this as well; one-thousand is still a small amount of views (when it comes to youtube, at least), and some videos don't even have comments, which makes it difficult for me to trust them.

- - -

(2) check the comments

this brings me to my next point—always check the comments for people's reactions. one of the best part about looking at comments is that oftentimes, they're raw responses. even if there are those that're tailored to garner likes, the point stands that they give insight on whether or not the subliminal is effective. from what i see, this can go two ways: one, there are people who detail their positive experiences (which can give you the benefit of knowing it works, and the pleasure of seeing others' reactions), and two, there are only comments filled with questions (which can imply that the subliminal is yet to reach a larger audience, and yet to have a conclusion).

- - -

(3) check the description

i consider this to be one of the most important things when it comes to looking up subliminals, because descriptions are where you'd usually find the affirmations used. even if there's a comment that lists them out for me, i still double-check, just in case. i need to know what kind of package I'm receiving, what parts of myself are going to be affected. they're subliminals—made for your brain to receive messages without it being actively conscious that it is. i don't know if you've heard, but there used to be a lot of them that promoted mental illnesses and bad behaviour, as well as physical deformity. that previous sentence might be a bit controversial—i mean, who am i to judge, right—but that doesn't make it any less disturbing, offensive, or even inappropriate.

always check the affirmations you're receiving, before deciding to add the song/video to your playlist.

- - -

(4) trust your gut

this one's a bit more relative, and is centered on personal preferences. for me, i trust subliminal videos that have these...tumblr aesthetic vibe to them. messy? chaotic? something with different fonts, or an edgy title. does that make sense? I've come to associate them with tumblr, and positive feelings, so they're the ones i usually turn to. if you're more comfortable with, say, theta waves, or rain sounds, then go for that! so long as you be careful with them, too. whether you're feeling particularly drawn or iffy towards a subliminal, it doesn't hurt to second-guess.

- - -

it's not much, but those are just some habits that i got used to having when listening to subs. i hope this helps!!

much love, and happy shifting ❤️❤️

#shifting #shifting realities #reality shifting #desired reality #shift #Esther's shifting posts

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captainsimagines · 4 years ago

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Titanic || H.S

Part Four || “April 10, 1912″

“I’m the king of the world!”

Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.

Bells were ringing for miles as crowds formed both before and at the ports, the buzzing of excitement and utter joy radiating through the doors of your overly-crowded automobile. Cheers from all the awaiting passengers contradicted your current mental state. For you, it was just another ship - simply new. You had stayed in overpriced rooms before, eaten at countless never-ending buffets, been given towels with a special “scent” which simply had a hint of cheap perfume, and even eaten from plates and utensils engraved with real gold. So the size of this ship, the luxury it supposedly had, or the brilliance of its story, did not do much to excite you.

You rolled a piece of thread in between your fingers and looked out your car window at the street. You could feel their shouts vibrating from the street below you, adding an extra rhythm to the automobile that seemed humanly impossible. You watched people dance and drink, and it took you only a moment to realize that these people weren’t even going to travel with you. They were simply here to enjoy the momentous atmosphere, watch history in the making, and say goodbye to their loved ones.

With your mother and Cal in deep conversation and George focusing on the outside world as well, you actually allowed yourself to smile. Perhaps this was a good thing - to travel back home and see just how much had changed. You admit, the political and social world was most likely unchanged and that London was much more lenient to who joined certain higher-ranked circles, but America must have some good qualities they adopted over the years. New inventions, food, culture and religion, play-writing - anything that you had an interest in you tried to think of as brightly American. You removed your hat to comb your hand through your thick hair and to wipe the excess sweat building on your hairline, the summer air becoming a little too musty for your liking. Your smile remained bright as you reached the long lines of actual passengers, both second and third class, going through their health inspections and bag checks. Lots of them would stop and stare at the first class carriages and automobiles that passed them quickly, some annoyed and some fascinated. It never bothered you when the lower class mocked you or spoke ill of the current political and economic systems, as you whole-heartedly agreed with them. If your late father taught you one thing it was that the system was deeply flawed and would remain that way as long as those in power who have never experienced injustice in their lives were allowed to live believing in business as usual. And yet, the total irony of you marrying into one of the wealthiest and greediest capitalist families in Europe was forever going to feel like a knife twisting into your back.

Just as your car passed the last round of third class health inspections, you leaned further toward the window to get a better view of the group of children laughing and pushing each other side to side. You grinned widely as you passed them, but your face fell almost instantly as you noticed the look of disgust from an older man. In the short seconds of that encounter, he had looked through your veil of upper-class protection and judged the color of your glowing skin, something that most people in your social circle in London chose to ignore. With your father’s influence and money, this issue was never even labeled as such, but to someone in another world, you were likely worth less than the piece of paper granting you passage on board.

You swallowed hard and leaned back against the red velvet seat, pulling your hat right back on to avoid the stares of the real world.

Over on the other side of the docks, just a mere distance from all the packed commotion, Harry held onto his sister’s hands as she said her goodbyes.

“Don’t you go spending all that money on art and women, you hear?”

Harry gasped and faked a gag, smiling down at his sister. “How rude of you to even think of me spending money on art I can simply draw myself and women I can woo with no fee.”

Both his sister and mother leaned in for a giant shared hug, each one already imagining the next time they would see each other.

“It’s only a few months. You’ll be in the states with me before you know it,” Harry snuggled closer to his mother as she hugged him tighter.

“I know, but it’s the first time you’re leaving home on your own and…” she choked on a gasp, barely holding it together. The amount of prayers she recited last night didn’t seem efficient and she made a mental note to say double the moment she returned home.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll write as soon as I’m settled.”

“Just be careful, okay? I hear they’re not as kind as we are here across the Atlantic,” his sister laughed, giving him one final, tight side squeeze and handing him his carry-on bags.

“You know, I heard that, too,” Harry joked.

“Be careful, we’re not joking,” his mother said, grabbing his chin gently and turning his face toward hers. “We’re not joking. Be safe.”

Harry leaned down and kissed his mother’s forehead, rubbing her back up and down rapidly as if that somehow kept his own tears at bay. But he grinned brightly and placed another kiss on his mother’s forehead and on his sister’s, and reached down to pick up his two carry-ons and his father’s briefcase.

“I promise. I love you both. The stars will tell you where I am and who I’m with.”

His sister was the first to let him go, “Alright, my little scientist! Get going and make us some money!”

Harry laughed loudly, patiently waiting for his mother to release her grip. “Not a scientist, but an amateur astronomer!”

His mother sniffed into her elbow and quickly rubbed her cheek, looking away momentarily before she collected herself and gave Harry her best broken but proud smile.

“Love you.”

Harry nodded with deep understanding, leaned in for one final goodbye kiss, and crossed into the massive crowd. He looked over his shoulder and yelled out for both of them.

“I promise to make my girls proud!”

It looked like every other ship you had ever been on, minus the shiny new floors and number of installed elevators. It almost angered you how disappointed your own disappointment made you, like nothing ever made you feel truly elated, truly surprised, truly ecstatic. But as you ignored the looks of other passengers and the excessive whining from your own mother, you started to see the little details other passengers were sure going to miss. Like the delicate stitching in all servant uniforms, the woodwork on the massive clock leading into the dining area, and the use of electricity in even the thinnest corners of each room.

Even the servants knew better than to comment on your true royal status with Cal beside you, who was in fact failing to find even one flaw on the ship. You quite admired that actually - something you could fully agree on.

“This is so gorgeous,” Cal whispered beside you, your arm intertwined with his. You nodded in agreement, absentmindedly keeping the same pace as him. It took a few more minutes to finally make it to your living quarters - three separate rooms, each with their own living rooms and bathrooms. You thought it too much for yourself and wondered why your mother didn’t request adjoining rooms between you and her.

Without even entering your room first, your mother ventured into her own and started ordering her maids and servants around. You breathed in deeply, ready to see your living situation but were gently pulled back to let Cal walk through the door first. You stopped momentarily, puckering your lips in slight annoyance but followed behind him nonetheless.

“Even more beautiful than the hallway!” Cal laughed after his joyous exclamation, falling lazily on the first couch he saw. You couldn’t help but giggle at his childishness, watching him with a tiny grin as he reached over to play with the fresh flowers and their heavy vase.

“Perhaps the open sea breeze makes a person absolutely giddy because I have never seen you smile this much from inanimate objects,” you said, placing your handbag on the circular table and removing your gloves.

Cal rolled his eyes playfully and jumped up from his laying position to run to the brunch table full of sweets and bread, a first-class greeting for Titanic’s most distinguished guests. He popped the first sweet he saw into his mouth, closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. He groaned softly and waved you over, already picking up the second serving to give to you. You walked slowly, eyebrows furrowed due to his laid back nature, but decided to give in and lean your head forward, mouth open to be fed. He placed the sweet on your tongue and awaited your reaction as you chewed, grinning widely once your eyebrows raised in amazement.

“I am never wrong!” Cal laughed, picking up some bread instead, and offering you a piece. But before you could reach over and grab it, Cal threw it in his own mouth and ate it. You gasped playfully, mouth wide open and genuine laugh escaping from it. Cal smiled wide enough to crinkle his eyes, and he reached over to wrap you in a backwards hug, with your back pressed against his chest and his head in between your neck and shoulder. You howled with true happiness, your sounds becoming louder as he proceeded to step with you all over the room and tickling your side at the same time. With enough strength you pushed him away and ran to the outside deck with Cal hot on your trail. He ran after you, dodging the servants with luggage in their arms and their questions of where to put them, following you out on deck and gripping your wrist in time to twirl you around beautifully. This time you ended up face-to-face, gripping onto each other and chests still racking with laughs.

The crinkles on both sides of his eyes remained, and you felt your heart stir for him. He was always so rigid but in this moment he was carefree and young, absent from duties and absent from the raunchy world he was so accustomed to. Here you saw a side of him that you could definitely get used to. But that’s just what it was - a side, not all of him. Before you could assume more of the negatives of this situation, Cal leaned down and captured his lips with yours. His lips were smooth and experienced, moving slowly against your timid ones. And just how quickly the kiss came, it disappeared. The minor moment of intimacy was too little for your liking, but it still counted as the first time you weren’t disgusted by Cal’s attitude or personality. It confused you how swiftly your mind changed and concocted the perfect fantasy of Cal and your upcoming marriage. Like a spell’s flame ignited and burned your whole internal wall down.

Before either of you could comment, you were interrupted by a servant who began rapidly excusing himself. He exited the deck and left you there, still in Cal’s arms. You wanted to speak but Cal simply smiled, kissed your forehead, and let you go.

“We must finish unpacking and decorating if we want to be front row during the Captain’s welcome speech.”

And with that, Cal stepped back into your living room and began helping the servants put up the paintings he had dismissed you on earlier. You stood there perplexed and could only muster up enough energy to lean over the railing and watch the waves hit the side of the ship and the docks you still hadn’t departed.

Apologies sprung from Harry’s mouth as quickly as he ran, pillowcase full of clothes over one shoulder and his father’s briefcase with all the family’s important documents and the freshly printed photographs in the other. He bumped into dozens of shoulders but even as he yelled his apologies, he didn’t look back. He was finally leaving for the promised land of opportunity, a place where he and his family could establish themselves and their business. New flavors introduced to the Americans would for sure boost business, and Harry was so excited to be the first of his family to step foot outside of London. Just being at the docks was the farthest his family had traveled.

The ship was vast in length, somehow seeming larger as Harry ran toward the third-class boarding area. He could see the crew was beginning to clean up, unhitching the ropes from the dock and removing the boarding stairs. His feet were already burning, but he sprinted as fast as he could, yelling at them to wait for his arrival. People stared at him, throwing themselves out of the way as he crashed into shoulders and knocked bags off horses. The background check and health inspection lasted longer than he had expected, all of the poking and prodding seeming more purposeful than necessary.

One particular horse came close to knocking Harry off his feet, and his belongings scattered over the dock floor. Harry cursed under his breath and quickly gathered his bags back into his arms, looking up every so often to check if the ship had departed without him.

“I got this for you, man.”

Harry searched the floor for his important briefcase and but instead saw it held out for him to take. Harry thanked the man for his help, and before he could say anything else, the man spoke up cheerfully.

“Come on, we got a ship to catch!”

Harry beamed at his new acquaintance and sped down the docks beside him. With two of them side by side, almost everyone jumped out of their way as if it was instinct. They continued to laugh at each other with each short tumble the other took, enjoying the quick pace at which they were traveling.

They both stumbled onto the attached railing that was being pulled away from the main entrance of the ship. The officers asked for their tickets almost immediately and Harry rolled his eyes.

“We’re passengers, here.”

Both Harry and his running mate handed over their tickets for quick inspection.

“Have you been through all inspections?”

The man behind him held up his bags in complete annoyance, “Why do you think we’re late?”

The officers just nodded, letting both of them through the door. Together they hopped onto the ship and dashed down every corridor, following the signs for third-class passengers.

“I swear I didn’t think we’d make it!” Harry shouted, still muttering tiny apologies to those he shoved as he passed.

“Luck seems to be following me around lately,” the man laughed, following Harry down the flight of stairs.

“What room are you staying in?”

“B60.”

“You’re joking.”

The two stopped to compare tickets, scoffing in astonishment.

“Hello, roommate!” the man smiled. “Name’s Drake.”

Harry put one of his bags down on the floor and pushed his briefcase under his left armpit to extend his right arm out for a handshake. “Harry.”

“You stopping in Ireland or New York?”

“Going all the way to New York City,” Harry beamed, and he picked up his bag again and started for their shared room.

“Awesome, same. I’m actually from Montana but since New York will be the only stop in the states, I figured I would just hitchhike my way home.”

“I thought I heard an American accent,” Harry chuckled. He rounded the corner and came face-to-face with the room number they were assigned. He opened the door and peeked his head through to make sure everything was decent for the door to be held wide open. Once the coast was clear, Harry opened the door widely and threw his heavy luggage onto the bottom bunk in the far corner.

“Oh, awesome. I get top bunk,” Drake cheered, also hauling his bags onto the bed. Harry ducked into his bunk as Drake jumped up onto his, the two settling in quite easily compared to the unorganized chaos outside their room.

The small room was designed to offer the least comfort possible, but it was still better than most of the rundown apartments in the middle of London. The walls were white, with the ship's pipes extending across the ceiling and down the side of the adjoining walls. Two brown blankets were folded on top of each bunk, and a pillow with minimal fluff was tightly tucked underneath the bedspread. The room offered one sink and three bars of wrapped soap, toilet paper, and an unlit lantern that would be useful for late night trips to the washrooms. Even with such limited offerings, it was way more than Harry expected.

“How many other people are joining us in our room?” Harry asked while grabbing the two blankets from the end of his bed for a quick nap.

“Two other men, I believe. Pretty sure that’s what the two empty beds across the room are for.”

“Oh. Oops.”

Harry laughed at himself and snuggled deeper into his blankets, letting out a deep and relaxed sigh.

Drake leaned over the side of his bed to look down at Harry, a confused grin on his face. “You’re seriously going to take a nap and not explore the ship?”

Harry winked one eye open and turned his head slightly upward. “After this nap.”

Drake pondered for a moment, but he silently agreed, and became victim himself to the comfort of cotton blankets and a hard mattress.

The Captain spoke so eloquently, so loud and coherent, that his welcome was felt by everyone in the crowded first-class lounge area. He was met with praises and generous words as he greeted the crowd and his crew, tipping his head slightly as if to nod and remain mostly nonverbal.

Cal, of course, wanted to put his name into the Captain’s hat, so he pulled you along absentmindedly until you were in front of the Captain himself. As Cal droned on, you noticed how the Captain was practically trained for this, the tipping of his head and low grunts of amused agreement speaking for themselves. He was an elder man, around his mid-sixties it seemed, with pearl white hair neatly combed over toward the left side of his head, and a thick beard that matched his serious look.

As Cal began mentioning the architecture of the ship and asking the Captain’s crew just how fast the ship was able to go, the Captain turned toward you and held his hand out. He gave you a warm smile, introduced himself and proceeded to place a delicate peck on your gloved hand. You smiled back but had to contain the chuckle scratching its way up your throat as you caught a glimpse of Cal’s look of bewilderment.

“You must be the beautiful child of the famed American-Indian Lieutenant. The King of all Aztec riches and oil,” the Captain praised.

You nodded, “His one and only child, yes.”

The Captain’s smile grew impossibly bigger.

You continued, “My father’s legacy branches farther than the oil industry. I am proud to say he was funding countless important causes.”

The Captain beamed, “I have heard! Civil rights, the fight for free land, uh… what am I missing?”

“Equal rights for women.”

The Captain chuckled, “He was quite determined, I may say. Ridiculous, but determined.”

Before you could say anything else, Cal sweeped in to take the same hand the Captain had kissed earlier.

“Yes, my fiance’s bloodline sure loved to mix the order of things. When we settle in America we’re mainly going to focus on the railroad and mining industry.”

You gave a scarce grimace.

“Railroading! Invest where the money is, Sir! Art, automobiles, electricity, and dare I say civil rights!” the Captain laughed, patting Cal on the shoulder and leaving to greet the other passengers.

Cal stood still for a second and although you wanted to comment, you knew better. Instead, Cal seemed to knowingly pinch your hand a little too hard to the point you winced. But he cleared his throat, let you go, and simply walked the other way.

Their short nap made them miss the ship’s departure, but the second they awoke, Drake and Harry dashed through third-class lounging to the bow of the ship. The nice cool breeze pinched Harry’s cheeks as he ran, the faint feeling of ocean droplets flying through the air.

They reached the very tip of the front, cautiously looking over to somehow calculate the exact speed at which they were going. Dolphins raced each other beside the ship, acknowledging they had an entertained audience on board.

“You don’t think the ship’s gonna hit them, right?”

Harry let out a loud and uncontrolled laugh, “Well, now I do!”

Drake climbed onto the railing, carefully balancing himself with one hand gripping the thick iron strings. He stretched out his free arm, staring off over the horizon and enjoying the feeling of a rushed breeze slapping his chest.

“I swear I can see the Statue of Liberty already!” Drake yelled.

Harry grinned and climbed onto the railing as well, mimicking Drake’s position as to not accidentally fall overboard.

“Oh, this is madness!” Harry screamed, his hair flying all over the place. But he seriously could not contain the giant smile that widened with each new jump of a dolphin, Drake’s howls of joy, and with the ever changing color of the bright blue horizon.

It seemed to all be coming together - the colors, the voices, the American dream. Harry could feel the excitement in the pit of his stomach, and he swore it could not grow any larger for risk of actually exploding. But similar to his pondering back home in his chilly room, that luck that Harry had following him around was definitely to blame for such an adventure.

Harry raised a clenched fist in the air and joined Drake in all the howling.

“I’m the king of the world!”

Dinner went as expected. You were quiet and polite, only speaking when spoken to, and the same tunes of violin screeched beside your ears. It made you miss more gentle rhythms, more upbeat sounds, and a much more excited band. European music was beautiful, but it seemed rich individuals only enjoyed the same three songs.

You drew a warm bath in your private bathroom after saying goodnight to both your mother and Cal. You weren’t expecting any further intrusions, and you swore that if any knock sounded from outside while you were in the bath, you would kill them. You had reached the end of your tolerance for today. And no matter how much you tried to prevent it with cold water on your face, vanilla candles, and your own private batch of special herbs, the first stages of a long migraine sneaked their way through.

You lay in the warm water thankfully undisturbed, big toe playing with the tub handle and a glass of champagne in your hand. It was all quiet now, the only sounds being your breaths and the tiny bubbles in your bath popping almost silently. Without another thought, you placed your champagne down on the side table and sucked in a deep breath, plunging your head underneath the water. Your thick hair swam in every direction, tickling your shoulders. You kept your eyes tightly shut and counted.

Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.

Once your lungs felt too constricted, you came back up and rubbed at your eyes. You cleared your nostrils and rubbed at your lips, the outside reality still unchanged. No noise, no new presence - just calmness.

And the water was becoming cold.

Please tell me what you think and if I should continue! Please also let me know if you would like to be tagged in any updates. Reblogs would certainly help this story reach even more people. Thank you. - xxMoni

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metawish · 4 years ago

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Family x Hunter: My mini analysis about family relationships in HxH

I am a HUGE sucker for found family troupes and family-oriented stories. There just aren't enough stories to explore the nature of those relationships and how influencial they can be to our development as people. For those of us who's primary relationships are our families, we're left out of the dialouge.

So imagine my surprise when Hunter x Hunter ended up being the anime I can't stop thinking about precisely because of the MULTIPLE family relationships and psudorelationships that happen throughout the plot. Imagine my double surprise when it turns out those family relationships are prioritized and emphasized in the anime over others like the all too popular friendship.

Written for the Carnival of Aro’s Jan 2021 Theme: Stories

Take the premise as a starting point. Gon decides to become a hunter, not because it's cool or because he wants to find some rare cool thing he's never seen before. No, instead, he wants to become a hunter to get closer to his absent father. The ENTIRE show only happens because Gon is driven by a desire to connect with and forge a relationship with his father. I think I can safely say that the family aspect of Hunter x Hunter is embeded into it's core.

Then take a look at the reasons the other main four choose to become hunters. Kurapika is hoping to avenge the massacur of his family clan, a clan that does not interact with the outside world. His entire character arc and development is based on this goal of seeking revenge.

Killua is at the Hunter exam because he heard it was easy. But then we learn, he left home because he wants to REJECT his family obligation to take up the family business.

"Okay, fair," I hear you all say, "but what about Leorio? He just wants money."

Let me help you connect the dots here. First, he claims he wants to become a hunter because of the money. Then we learn he wants to use that money to become a doctor and then provide free medical treatment for those who cannot afford it. THEN we learn that this motivation STEMS from a childhood incident where a best friend of his ended up dying from a treatable illness because he couldn't afford the medical treatment neccessary. Leorio decided then that he did not want anyone else to experience that, tried to go at it the normal way, and realized that it would be nearly impossible for him to afford it. Any average person might end up giving up on this dream, but Leorio was so dedicated to his goal that he ended up training to become a hunter, a physically and mentally strenuous task. JUST so he can get access to more money.

If anything, Leorio's the one who's most motivated by platonic relationships! While Kurapika,Gon, and Killua's motivations are based on obligations to family, Leorio's motivation is only suggested. It isn't like this friend is still alive and Leorio is obligated to save him. No one but Leorio is beholden to the completion of his mission. The strength in that bond has to be strong for him to go to the lengths he did.

AND THIS IS ONLY THE VERY BEGINNING!

Gon's arc goes from becoming a hunter to finding his dad. Kurapika disappears from the story precisely because he is off getting revenge. Killua's development as a character entirely rests in the way he navigates between his family, with entire plots surrounding the Zoldyks. Leorio reenters the narrative JUST to show how deeply he cares for Gon and Killua, and serves as a nice foil to Ging, Gon's father.

I physically cried during Killua's final arc, when he apologized to his youngest sister, asking for her forgiveness after being a "bad big brother." Killua went from essentially running away from home rejecting his family, to asking for forgiveness from a cherished family member. And the nuance inbetween! Freeing himself from his oldest brother's mind control. Finding common ground with his father that, at least in the anime, never gets used against him. Rejecting the family business without rejecting the family. While it still feels incomplete, the joy at seeing him reconnect with a family member and promise to always be together forever made the little shrivelled starved heart of mine swell satisfied.

Killua is a perfect example of the story focusing on his family relationships over his friendships, or at the very least, implying that those family relationships are more important than those with his friend. Does Killua leverage the fact that he made a pact with his dad to never abandon a friend? Yeah. But the fact is that he still went to his family for help.

In the last episode, he tells Gon, his first and only friend, that they have to part ways since he has to protect his little sister. He even says that she comes first before Gon. After struggling to understand if Gon is as committed to him as Killua was to him, he finds closure in his little sister's dedication and wholesome affection. (When he asks Alluka if he was the only one in the whole world that loved her, would that be enough, her response was that she couldn't stop smiling. Because the answer was yes. And perhaps, it was also a question for Killua. Is Alluka's love for him enough?)

And Leorio. LEORIO. As I said, he disappears from the narrative, largely because his mission and Gon's are not the same. But when Gon is out of commission, Leorio comes back into play. The PLOT is affected by this decision and MOVES because if this. Leorio was simply trying to find a way to help his friend, and decides to publically ask his father where he is during such a critical time. Leorio's emotions at Ging's lack thereof ends up putting him in the spotlight, a spotlight he uses every time to seek answers for Gon and to reaffirm his commitment to saving Gon. As much as I HATED the slowmotion, the reunion between Leorio and Gon after Gon's been healed was felt deep in my SOUL. Contrast that QUITE LITERALLY with Ging's reaction and we have the potential for some major character development and storytelling about what a family relationship really is about.

Do we have to earn those familiar relationships? Are we expected to commit to people who are not committed to us simply because they are blood? Can we reject them? Is Killua's reject of his oldest brother over their younger sister a conflict that cannot be solved? Can we form them with strangers? Who is more of a stranger to Gon; his absent dad or the guy he met on a ship headed to an exam? Are we obligated to our family duties like Killua and the family business or Kurapika and his life destroying hunt to avenge his dead family?

Kurapika's story felt a little flat, which is a shame because there is so much potential to explore! The struggle to avenge his clan stems not from his clan, but from his own trauma and pain. His family was ripped right under him, leaving him no one to rely on. Instead of form new relationships, he rots along with his family. In a sense, his disappearance from the narrative represents his character regression, fading from existance like his family.

From a family taken away, to a father who was never there in the first place. Gon's story feels incomplete. Feels a bit like Gon's growth as a character is secondary to the advancement of the plot. Feels like sweeping major issues under the metaphorical rug and calling it a fun show. This man never once visited his son. When leaving a recording for his son, he flat out told Gon he did not want to see him at all. During his time in the hospital, never once did he visit. Sure, we see him remain confident that Gon is alright, but is this confidence misplaced? Is this even true confidence in a person he's never met before? I feel like I am missing a giant piece of the puzzle explaining why Gon, a 12 year old boy who had no male figure in his life, easily accepts Ging.

Let's not forget how Gon didn't even WANT to learn more about his birth mother, a mystery that we will never solve. Just another example of trying to answer what family means. Mito is an aunt, but to Gon, Mito is his mother. (Yet Ging can still be his father? Why not Leorio? A far more deserving man of any affection whatsoever.)

How the story should go. After meeting up with Ging, he continues to go on an adventure with him. As they travel through the far more dangerous continent, Gon faces death multiple times. All this while Ging continues without regard for his safety. Gon reflects, thinking back to his friend Killua, who would attack Gon if it was to protect him. Who called him the sun. Back to Leorio, who hugged Gon like he mattered. Who said he was sorry for not being there for him. As they continue on, he reflects on who really matters. A call for help from his friends. Does he answer the call or remain by his father's side?

What makes a familiar relationship? Blood? Obligation? Depth of affection? Trust? Who makes or breaks those ties? How much do we grow from those relationships?

Hunter x Hunter exceeds my expectations, but also fails to live up to the story it sets itself up to be. I never thought I'd see such an incredible character development that centers on family. I hoped for something on the Ging & Gon front, perhaps as a means of exploring my own thoughts on the matter. Sorely disappointed. I think about this anime often because there is still much left to the imagination. A story unfinished. Perhaps that's what makes it a good story; especially one that decides to kick the standard and focus on a relationship that all of us have dealt with, but many of us overlook.

Is this show good? Debatable. What isn't debatable is how important family is to the plot and character development of the show. Maybe, in an alternative world somewhere, there is a satisfying ending where Gon acknowledges his own family trauma. He realizes how important his friends are, maybe seeing them more as his own family. Kurapika's revenge slowly fizzles out, instead replaced by the need to protect what's still alive. Killua resolves his family issues while remaining true to himself and Leorio adopts Gon.

Maybe the real family is the one we make along the way.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #gon #killua #leorio #please give me more gen content

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 51 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don’t post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so…yeah.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella watched her parents’ faces for their reaction, both were worryingly neutral.

“Are you even physically able to healthily carry a child so soon after everything?” Frigga asked worriedly.

“He is perfectly healthy, his seidr interacts with mine. I have checked his growth throughout with mine, he is perfectly healthy, perhaps even a little big for a first child. He has more of the Aesir side of his genes build.” Ella was proud to declare.

Loki frowned slightly. He didn’t realise she had been noting such in their son. He thought of the lithe natural physique of the Jotnar, he had never thought that adding a different type of physique to the genes would alter the appearance of their child. He thought of how it would alter how their child would look. He clearly would have Jotnar markings, he also preferred the cold. Loki didn’t know if his son’s skin would be the same as his, but if he was robustly built as Thor and Odin were, it would be interesting. He did not know what to think about that.

“He?” Frigga frowned. “How could you know that?” “Mother, you are an incredible seidr wielder but you never really pushed yourself as much as you should.”

Frigga frowned at her daughter’s words. She looked over at Odin, startled by his knowing face. “You knew this?” In truth, Frigga was slightly hurt that Ella had not informed her of this news earlier.

“I suspected such when sensed it through Gungnir. It...He has a different wave to Ella. I don’t think he will be as powerful but he most certainly has seidr of his own.” There was clear pride in Odin’s face for both being right in his suspicions and at knowing his grandchild was showing blatant Odin-line attributes.

Frigga could not argue that. She thought their daughter had informed Odin and not her, which had hurt her deeply. Seeing that instead, it was the use of Gungnir that made him suspect it, she was no longer as hurt. When she looked at Ella again, she could see her daughter seemed somewhat unsure of what to think of their reaction, the manner that Loki was looking at Ella telling her that he too was uncertain as what to think and wondering if he should try to comfort her in some manner. It was clear that the two young royals were confused by such a reaction. She swallowed slightly. “This is, of course, wonderful news.” Ella looked at her mother with scepticism blatant in her features. “My concern is for your health, it was barely over a year ago that we almost lost you, Darling. Of course our concern would be for your health and indeed that of the baby, we are just worried for you both.” She ensured to make clear.

“I just tripled the size of a palace. I think it is safe to say that if I were to be ill, I could not have done that.” Ella scoffed playfully. “I wished to tell you in our conversations but I felt it to be something worthy of a face-to-face informing.” “And we appreciate such. I fully understand your reasons for doing so, even if you hid your condition when I explicitly asked if you had any further alterations to your health.” Her mother eyed her admonishingly.

“I stated clearly that my health has been practically doubling...it’s not lying if there are two beings involved...technically...theoretically...sort of.”

“It’s not the same, Ella and well you know.” Odin’s tone was reprimanding but in a playful manner causing Ella to laugh slightly. Odin then noticed Loki’s apprehensive looks to his mother-in-law. “Don’t mind Frigga, she simply feels she shouldn’t be old enough to be a grandmother.” He dismissed. “But it is entirely to be expected and to be celebrated. No wonder Laufey is so confident to relieve himself of the reins, so to speak. Jotunheim has a good future to look forward to.” he nodded to his daughter. “I solemnly hope that little fellow does not give you the same trouble you gave us, be it with your health or mischief.”

“The latter I can take. It would be the Norns revenge for my previous behaviour.” Ella retorted back playfully. She found her hand going to her stomach on referencing her son within.

“If you were to be given a son to mimic your persona...forget Norns have mercy, the realms in their entirety have mercy.” Odin chuckled. “Jotunheim truly is in good hands. So long as that child has even a modicum of your combined attributes towards leadership, then Jotunheim will truly prosper.”

Loki did not know what to think at Odin’s statement. To hear the Aesir king, a man that left no uncertainty at his want to hurt Loki for what he did to his daughter not very long before, speak of him in such a flattering manner startled him beyond words.

“With the difference in gestations between Jotnar and Aesir, how long before our grandchild arrives?” It was clear that after the initial shock and concern about Ella’s health, Frigga was somewhat excited with regards the idea of there being a baby.

“Everything seems to be at the rate of an Aesir and Vanir pregnancy. So all things going to plan, he will arrive in seven months,” Ella was proud to declare.

“So soon?” Frigga was startled by such news.

Ella rose to her feet and removed her cloak revealing her somewhat protruding stomach to her parents.

Odin merely nodded slightly. “Wonderful. Praise the Norns we are told now and not at the beginning, the waiting can be something bothersome.”

“It’s different here, Loki was bothered I did not tell him before he left.”

“Knowing them to be carrying and going to war does no good.” Odin shook his head at Loki, looking him in the eye as he spoke. “I spent more of my time worrying about if Frigga could flee as she grew heavier with Ella than I did worrying about myself. With Thor being so young and Ella being so bothersome, it was something I worried about no end. On Alfheim, your focus was more on the task at hand.”

Loki nodded silently. He personally disagreed with that statement but it was subjective so there was no reason in telling the old king that he did not share his sentiments. Though, it did show him why Ella had not thought to tell him before his going. He was only grateful that through it all, their child had been growing and the date of his arrival grew closer.

The talking after that remained reasonably pleasant, if not slightly boring. Loki and Ella were regaled with the going-ons of Asgard, the vast majority of which Loki thought to be entirely mundane, though he noted that Ella listened intently, adding to the conversation every so often, often on a matter she had learnt of in her youth that her parents had not been aware of. So too was there talk of the requirements for the readying for the coronation. With Laufey still alive, it was somewhat different from anything that Asgard had planned for Thor’s coronation but that did not stop there being areas that her parents were able to assist in them readying. Frigga offered her assistance behind the scenes, recognising that many, especially the mates of Laufey’s other sons would feel it an intrusion and to keep the idea of meddling on the part of Asgard to a minimum. Both Loki and Ella informed the Aesir royals of the sentiment that some had with regards Loki, his heritage, his lineage, the marriage and Ella within Jotunheim’s court. Both nodded and gave suggestions on the matter and gave their sympathies to both youths for what they were being forced to endure by the ignorant older in society.

“I too felt as they did,” Odin admitted. “I thought the occupants of the other realm to be somewhat beneath me. Monsters. Inferior in most manners, without getting to know them. But I can see the error of my thoughts. I was wrong and I will admit so, but not all can. Some cannot see past what they believe to be fact when in truth, fact is rarely present in their thinking and even if they were presented with the facts, they would ignore them anyway and state them to be lies. This little fellow will be more Vanir than Jotnar or Aesir and will no doubt look mostly Jotnar due to the more dominant genes of the Jotnar. He will be raised here, as a Jotnar, who knows his other heritage and will be surrounded by the Jotnar way of life but that will never be enough for them. They want only purity. But there is no purity, not without imperfection. I read of this family in Midgard, royals, so closely related that they were without fertility and had every manner of genetic error within their bloodline, Norns, but the thought. It was not even that long ago and I recall saying it to the kings of different realms in our talks and we stated it there and then, that a varied bloodline is a better one. This little fellow, he has so much royal lineage but his mixtures will allow him good strength. Look at Thor and Ella, strong and healthy, bar of course, when she is the only one with the ability to harm her. That blade sliced her side, I have seen fully grown, fully trained Einherjar fall to less and she was no more than six hundred and with blood staining her clothes, she continued to fight using her seidr, not even looking to see where she was hit. No haemophiliac Midgardian royal could do that.” Odin’s chest swole slightly at pride in his daughter’s strength.

Loki looked to Ella curiously. “Haemophilia is blood issues. Some with them cannot clot wounds, they would die from bleeding from something we would not even see as much because the wound would never be able to heal.” She explained.

Loki shuddered at the thought. He found himself thinking of how Odin had seen the Jotnar as a species. He was insulted deeply by the comments but he paused and also considered his own earlier thoughts on the Aesir. He remembered how he dismissed them as cruel, especially considering their young but he realised through it all that the

Aesir truly did care for their child. Odin left his realm and rushed to Jotunheim to his daughter, he did not even seem to concern himself with the needs of the realm, he never even asked who dealt with Asgard in the Allfather’s absence. Had he even thought to put someone else in charge? Loki did not know. He had thought them monsters and he too was wrong. Looking to his mate beside him, he was relieved that he had learnt such, it allowed him to enjoy her fully as a mate.

After a time, there was a knock on the door before Ella used her seidr to open it. Thor strutted in with a smile. “Why am I never invited to these family discussions?” “They’re not family discussions, they are me talking with our parents because I now live in a foreign realm so I do not get to talk to them face-to-face too often and I want to. If it was an actual family discussion, you would have been informed of such to begin with.”

Thor could only make a head gesture in agreement, knowing this was true. He looked at Ella in an analytical manner for a moment, his eyes coming to her stomach before getting himself a drink and sitting down.

“You knew about this?” Frigga stared at Thor in shock, her hand gesturing to Ella’s stomach.

Thor nodded before taking a drink. “When I came to ask for Loki’s help, she spoke of some concerns she had for him for a moment, asking me to keep an eye on him. Whilst we were speaking, she voiced her concerns on other matters also, including fear for something happening while he was not here, especially and I am not able to recall the sentence verbatim but she referenced that she feared someone would hurt Loki and his line, while she unknowingly seemed to be touching her stomach. All this did not require an overly able mind to comprehend.” Thor looked at his family proudly before their startled faces made him scoff. “I am more astute than I am given credit for.” he shook his head before taking another drink. “I apologise to you Loki, for not saying anything to you on Alfheim but I gathered from your lack of saying anything with regards to it meant that you did not know.” He looked at Loki as he spoke. “Though with how long these things take, it’s best to not know for so long. I feel like I know forever. When is my niece or nephew due?”

“Your nephew is due in seven months,” Ella informed him.

“Nephew?” Thor smiled at the idea. “Well, that’s part of that agreement dealt with already, so that’s good, but Norns have mercy if he has your mischief.” He quibbed.

Loki felt slightly odd at the reference to the requirement of sons, something he still disliked.

#loki #other #submission #Submitted fic #chapter 51 #wolfpawn #Pride and Prejudice

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wolfpawn · 4 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 51

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - The Aesir royal family come to Jotunheim to assist in readying for the coronation.

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NOTES - I literally have this written with over a week and just as a tab on my computer but I suffer from ITS, Idiotic Thoughts Syndrome which makes me really mentally weird and my mind tells me no one likes my stuff, I just had a few people message me over the last day about this telling me they love it which forced me to feel like I am letting them down if I don't post it which, by the way, is sometimes the best way to motivate my shitty ass, so yeah, it needs saying, if you like this, please let me know, it actually gets me to upload new chapters. I have some written, so...yeah.

Ella watched her parents’ faces for their reaction, both were worryingly neutral.

“Are you even physically able to healthily carry a child so soon after everything?” Frigga asked worriedly.

“He?” Frigga frowned. “How could you know that?” “Mother, you are an incredible seidr wielder but you never really pushed yourself as much as you should.”

“I stated clearly that my health has been practically doubling...it’s not lying if there are two beings involved...technically...theoretically...sort of.”

“The latter I can take. It would be the Norns revenge for my previous behaviour.” Ella retorted back playfully. She found her hand going to her stomach on referencing her son within.

“Everything seems to be at the rate of an Aesir and Vanir pregnancy. So all things going to plan, he will arrive in seven months,” Ella was proud to declare.

“So soon?” Frigga was startled by such news.

Ella rose to her feet and removed her cloak revealing her somewhat protruding stomach to her parents.

Odin merely nodded slightly. “Wonderful. Praise the Norns we are told now and not at the beginning, the waiting can be something bothersome.”

“It’s different here, Loki was bothered I did not tell him before he left.”

“You knew about this?” Frigga stared at Thor in shock, her hand gesturing to Ella’s stomach.

“Your nephew is due in seven months,” Ella informed him.

“Nephew?” Thor smiled at the idea. “Well, that’s part of that agreement dealt with already, so that’s good, but Norns have mercy if he has your mischief.” He quibbed.

Loki felt slightly odd at the reference to the requirement of sons, something he still disliked.

#loki fic #wolfpawn #chapter 51 #Pride and Prejudice

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firebrands · 5 years ago

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a catalog of non-definitive acts | steve/tony (part 3)

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, mature, 1.7k ft. sex and angst | on ao3 | part 1, part 2

Tony’s hunched over schematics when he feels two arms wrap around his waist. Tony hums in response, and already begins to mentally pack up; he knows what comes next.

Steve starts by kissing the back of Tony’s neck, soft and gentle, then tightens his embrace. “What are you up to?” he asks, like it’s any regular Tuesday.

Tony takes a breath. “Just thinking,” he says. This, he’s more used to: hiding, pretending, being wilfully obtuse. It’s times like this that he wishes he was stupider, wishes he didn’t already figure how this conversation would go.

But he isn’t stupid, so he isn’t surprised when Steve kisses the back of his neck again and says teasingly, “About me, I hope.” Steve’s hand is rubbing small circles on Tony’s stomach and it’s distracting, the simplicity of Steve’s Steve-ness.

Tony tilts his head back to rest against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss against Tony’s neck, just above his aorta.

“Of course,” Tony answers, can’t bear to say more than that. He already feels like he’s given too much away, that he keeps giving too much away.

Steve presses a line of kisses up Tony’s neck, stopping just below Tony’s ear. “Good,” he murmurs, making Tony shiver. Tony can tell that Steve’s smiling at his reaction, and Tony turns to look at Steve, and they’re close enough for Tony to see the rings around Steve’s eyes and somehow, in spite of everything, he’s still so taken in by how gorgeous Steve is.

Steve bops Tony’s nose with his before kissing him, and the easy affection makes Tony a little lightheaded. Tony parts his mouth open, moans as Steve’s hands begin wandering down the band of his sweatpants, and then the alarm sounds and they’re off each other immediately.

It’s par for the course that after everything, somehow, Tony wakes up in a hospital bed. Tony’s first reaction upon waking up is to roll his eyes. “What’s the situation, J?”

“Good evening, sir. You were hit rather badly by one of the bank robber’s rockets and landed on your head as you fell. You have a minor concussion but all signs point to you being fine within the next day.”

Tony sighs. “Of course.” Criminals in New York who had access to upgraded tech. God bless the new world.

“You’ve been asleep for twelve hours. It is currently 11 PM.”

Tony grunts in response, then reaches over to the bedside table where someone was considerate enough to leave a glass of water. Tony’s about to lie back down when the door swings open, and Tony thinks that he might be a bit more concussed than JARVIS is saying because somehow, Steve’s presence is illuminating.

“You’re awake,” Steve says, relief clear in his tone.

“You’re here,” Tony deadpans.

For a brief moment, Steve looks chastened. “I went to get something to eat.”

Tony nods, settles back into the bed. “Anything left for me?”

“I can fix up something for you,” Steve offers, resting his hand on top of Tony’s.

“It’s fine. Just teasing.” Tony turns his palm up. He’s done this before, again and again after the first time. He feels foolish thinking that it means something for Steve, too.

Just as Steve’s about to thread their fingers together, the door swings open again: Thor, this time, and just like a flash of lighting Tony’s hand is cold and empty. Steve’s hand is curled into a fist on the railing of the hospital bed.

“Anthony!” Thor grins, pulling Tony into a gentle embrace. “I had no doubt in your recovery,” he says, tightening his arms around Tony’s shoulders briefly before pulling away.

“That is, unlike some of us,” Thor says, casting an accusing glance at Steve. It’s undercut by Thor’s almost immediate laughter; he’s never been good at letting a joke simmer.

“Oh, really,” Tony says, and it’s a practiced movement, to raise a smirk to his lips. See? It’s funny. It’s funny that Steve cares about Tony, to any degree. Everyone’s in on the joke.

Steve ducks his head, mumbles something under his breath that neither Thor nor Tony catch.

Thor smiles at Tony, warm and goofy. “I am glad you are all right,” he says, resting his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Come, Steven. Let us leave Anthony to recuperate.”

Tony watches for Steve’s reaction, doesn’t miss the way he looks up abruptly, how he opens his mouth to say something then just as quickly shuts it.

Thor’s already turning away, his hand now on Steve’s arm, tugging him along.

“Actually I—“ Steve says, fumbling around for words and he wrestles his arm away from Thor’s grip. “I have to talk to Tony,” he finishes lamely. Tony bites down on his lip to stifle his laughter, and settle back down onto the bed. If it were anyone else from the team, they’d have stopped in their tracks and looked at Steve funny. But it’s Thor, and these small tells are things he’s still learning.

“It’s fine, Steve,” he says, raising his hand to uncurl Steve’s fist. But he’s too slow, and Steve snatches his hand away. The smile dies on Tony’s lips, and he lets his hand fall limply back to his side.

He’s sure Steve doesn’t notice the shift, still seemingly intent on staying. Thor’s out the door with a shake of his head, calling out to Steve one last time before the door shuts: “Do not berate him for his mistakes, Steven!”

Tony knows Thor’s referring to the battle, to how despite everything Tony still gets into these scrapes—the unspoken implication of Tony’s imperfections—but it sings true to everything between him and Steve, and the offhand comment makes Tony turn away to hide his frown.

Steve, meanwhile, lets out an uncharacteristic scoff at Thor’s comment, like it’s the last thing on his mind to berate Tony. Part of Tony hopes that’s true, in any form; that Steve isn’t going to chide him for literally showing his hand just moments ago. At this point it’s an unspoken rule, to keep whatever it is between them just between them.

Once the door clicks shut, Steve takes Tony’s hand in his, his grip warm and secure, and Tony reads so much into it—the implication of secrecy, the physical relief at the sudden affection, Steve’s care—that he misses whatever Steve says to him.

“Tony?” Steve asks, squeezing Tony’s hand a little.

“What?” Tony feels dazed, and it’s not just the concussion.

“I asked if you wanted me to get you some food, or if you’d like to rest.” There’s worry in Steve’s face, clear in the small frown on his lips, the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s fine,” Tony replies, exhaustion settling in on him like a heavy blanket. He would like a great many things that he knows he isn’t going to get and he’s too tired to keep up this charade tonight. He’s been too tired for a while, if he’s being honest. (But he isn’t, very rarely is, and what does it matter if he’s tired, anyway? It’s pathetic that he feels slighted by the numerous small rebuffs. It’s pathetic that in the middle of the night, this night and all the others, he just wants the simple joy of Steve’s touch.)

“Okay,” Steve smiles and leans over the railing to press a soft kiss on Tony’s forehead.

Tony swallows, tilts his chin up. It’s a question he hopes Steve will answer.

Steve smiles again, and begins to kiss a trail down Tony’s face: a kiss on the space between Tony’s eyebrows, three kisses down the ridge of Tony’s nose. His lips hover over Tony’s for a moment, and Tony’s breathing is shallow with anticipation.

Steve shuts his eyes and sighs, leans closer so their foreheads touch. It feels so intimate that it’s almost painful. Tony wants—he wants too much. Too much. He’d settle for a kiss, right about now. Why can’t Steve just give him that?

“God, Tony,” Steve whispers, and Tony wants to cry, now, his chest swelling so quickly that it threatens to burst with how much he feels at the broken sound of Steve’s voice, telegraphing fear and relief and—Tony must be imagining things, because there’s a word, there’s one word in the whole history of human desire that encapsulates the emotion behind Steve saying his name. There’s a word for how Tony has felt all those times they’d sought each other out, silent and secret, hidden between the closed doors of the workshop, double-checking to ensure they aren’t seen when they make their way up to the penthouse. There’s a word for all the times Tony’s wanted Steve to stay, for all the times Tony had reached out to just take what he wanted so badly to be his. There’s a word for the way he lets Steve hold him, the look they share in the afterglow.

But Tony knows that can’t be it.

Tony doesn’t say anything, instead cranes his neck forward and doesn’t miss the mark: Steve’s lips on his are familiar and soft. Steve kisses back but pulls away too quickly, and somehow, Tony feels he’s not the only one who’s disappointed.

“You should get some rest,” Steve says, shifting a chair closer to the bed with his free hand. He smiles at Tony as he takes a seat, but the smile is weak, almost false.

They’re silent for a moment, and Tony takes a deep breath before saying, “You can go ahead.”

“Go ahead where?” Steve asks, confused. Tony takes advantage of this and disentangles his hand from Steve’s grip.

“To bed?”

“I can stay,” Steve says, and takes Tony’s hand in his again.

Tony knows Steve doesn’t have to, and can’t fathom the reason as to why; he’s never wanted to stay before. Is it always going to take an injury to keep him?

He looks down at their intertwined fingers and sighs at the knowledge that he’d put himself through hell if that’s what it did take. (But then again: isn’t this hell enough already?)

He means to talk more, but falls asleep too soon. When he wakes up a few hours later, Steve’s gone, and Tony’s hand is tucked securely under a blanket. He waits a few minutes in vain hope that Steve’s stomach had driven him to another ill-timed snack break, but he can’t say he’s surprised that half an hour later Steve doesn’t come back.

#steve x tony #stony #stevetony #stevetony fanfiction #stevetony fic #stony fanafiction #stony fic #steve rogers #tony stark #things i write #HAHA OH GOD i am writing chapter 4 now and screaming #a catalog of non definitive acts

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buckyistired · 6 years ago

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Why Bucky Barnes Isn’t Damaged Goods, Take Two

Since tumblr is a big ol butthead and ate my first post on the subject, and I apparently write essays on Bucky Barnes for fun, here is take two on why Bucky Barnes isn’t damaged goods. Why should I care enough to spend another several hours re-writing this? Because it is not ok to call survivors of traumatic events damaged. Period. End of story. It was a lousy choice of words that could easily be misinterpreted, and I would have been willing to leave it at that, if the writers and directors didn’t keep talking and digging that hole a little deeper. So...here we go. Again. I’m on my soapbox and the view is great.

In less than an hour of screen time over seven films, the Marvel Cinematic Universe gave us a complex, beloved character that walks the line between victim and villain with a murder-strut swagger. Bucky Barnes is as lonesome and dangerous as he is charming and sarcastic. Many fans have fallen in love or seen themselves reflected in Bucky’s trials and triumphs; he’s truly an awesome, multi-faceted character, but unfortunately, fans seem to be of the few who realize this.

Recent comments made by both MCU directors and writers regarding Bucky’s mental state have…bothered me and I thought, well, let’s examine the evidence that Bucky is damaged, shall we?

Obligatory disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional; I have PTSD and use these strategies myself, but nothing I’ve written should preclude you from seeking a professional opinion if you need it. Talking with a therapist about my PTSD helped me get light years ahead in terms of recovery. Whatever path you choose, take care of you.

What is PTSD?

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it.

Does Bucky Barnes have PTSD?

By definition, Bucky has experienced or witnessed the following traumatic events:

WWII. Bucky served as an active soldier during WWII, in the trenches and on the battlefields. He was a distinguished sniper and a Sergeant, which means he witnessed and contributed to the war effort to an even further degree. Many soldiers had “battle fatigue” or “shell shock” during the war; it is not unlikely that Bucky would have experienced this from WWII alone if he had survived and returned home.

Prisoner of War. Bucky was captured and tortured as a prisoner of war, not once, but twice. He was experimented on in his time in Azzano, before he was captured again by Zola/Hydra.

The Fall. Bucky shouldn’t have survived the fall from the train in the Alps. He watched as Steve tried to save him and failed, and he was cognizant as he fell to his presumed death and as he was then captured.

Disability. As established in flashback scenes, Bucky was conscious when he fell from the train and as he was being pulled through the snow by his captors (who he may have assumed were saviors at that point, double ouch). He woke up to his arm being removed and replaced. This kind of permanent change to his body would be difficult enough to work through in a peaceful recovery environment. We know that Bucky didn’t get that luxury.

Hydra/The Winter Soldier decades. The cryochamber. Being strapped to a table and experimented on. The chair. Having no control over your own mind or body. Being forced to murder; being trapped in a continuous war. This torture lasted for 70 years.

Civil War. Free from Hydra, Bucky is trying to live the good life, keep his head down, and stay out of trouble. Then boom, he’s blamed for a bombing that kills how many people? And he’s right in the middle of Tony and Steve’s fallout? Oh, and he loses his arm, again? And then he willingly goes back into cryofreeze? Ok. That’s like 16 traumatic events in the space of 24-48 hours, also known as Bucky Barnes and the No Good Very Bad Day.

Battle Against Thanos and The Snapture, Part 1. Just as Bucky gets to the point where he’s living the good live and recovering from the trauma that has been pretty much his entire life, Thanos shows up, and Bucky is off to another battlefield. Then, he dies. Sort of. Again. How many times is this now?

Battle Against Thanos and The Snapture, Part 2. Bucky gets unsnapped and has approximately two seconds of “yay!” before he is again fighting on a battlefield for his life and the lives of those he cares about and oh, for the entire world.

A common thread here is that all of these traumatic experiences included a near brush with death or a near constant threat to his person. We don’t even really know the extent of the trauma Bucky endured when he was captured by Hydra. Regardless, I just listed eight different traumatic events that Bucky has experienced or witnessed. I think, yes, it’s safe to say that poor Bucky has PTSD, big-time.

So, is Bucky Barnes damaged?

No. Bucky Barnes is an individual who have survived more than his fair share of traumatic events, and as such, his brain has had to compensate for how he thinks, processes, and responds to stimuli. He does, at one point, suffer from literal brain damage from the chair, but we are shown in Black Panther that Shuri has healed the physical damage to his brain.

If Bucky experienced permanent damage from his trauma, he would be incapable of living his life. Literally. If he suffered from PTSD and did not actively try to take measures to cope with it, he would not be able to function; his brain wouldn’t let him. (In my opinion, he still would not be “damaged” because people with mental health issues are still people who deserve respect and shouldn’t be talked about like feral animals, but hey, moving past ableist language is apparently too much to ask and I digress).

Anyways, my point is that Bucky is not only aware of his condition, but actively takes steps to treat it, therefore, he cannot be of a damaged mind. And I’m gonna prove it.

Bucky Barnes: PTSD Symptoms and Coping Strategies

Bucky exhibits both positive and negative coping strategies throughout the films as his journey to recovery progresses, sometimes back to back, which is a great, realistic choice, because it shows that recovery is not linear.

Avoidance

Avoidance occurs when a person avoids thoughts or feelings about a traumatic event; it can interfere with emotional recovery and healing and is a common reaction to trauma.

The first step in treating any illness is recognizing the need for treatment. In Captain America: The First Avenger we see Bucky actively avoid recognizing his trauma after being rescued from Azzano. He’s putting on a strong face in the name of avoidance (“Let’s hear it for Captain America!”) but he’s also suffering.

Source: https://cogentranting.tumblr.com/post/174225812218/comic-bucky-phdna-bluandorange-edgebug

There’s an additional scene in this film that, while played for laughs and parallels between Bucky and Steve, has always meant more to me. When the Howlies are all gathered in a bar, drinking, laughing, and having a good time, Bucky is by himself in the back room (avoiding friends) where it’s quiet (avoiding loud disturbances that could rock him) and he can keep an eye on his surroundings (being overly alert). His uniform is disheveled and he’s lost that cocky Sergeant Barnes signature look. When Peggy walks in and completely ignores him, this is Bucky’s reaction:

Source: https://steviebarnes.tumblr.com/post/181821865007/steve-little-shit-rogers

I don’t think Bucky was exaggerating here. Everything he’s been through lately is a horrible dream. We don’t talk about this scene enough in terms of how it shows Bucky’s vulnerability; it’s really the first hint we have that Bucky has lost a part of himself during this war.

Engaging in Dangerous Behavior/Overworking

In Captain America: The First Avenger, we witness Bucky deploying a negative coping strategy for the first time: over dedication to his work that suggests he’s overcompensating as a way of avoiding thinking about his trauma. Engaging in reckless or dangerous behavior also is a symptom of PTSD. Bucky continuously experiences new stressful situations, which ultimately will extend his healing time. For example, he willingly goes on a mission to capture Zola, the man who strapped him to a lab table and pumped him full of knock-off super soldier serum. Seeing the doctor again would be enough to trigger Bucky into an episode but he goes anyways because his dedication to the mission is more important to him than his mental stability.

Source: https://n-barnes.tumblr.com/post/170542194046/bucky-with-the-guns

Now, this is still an active war zone. The necessity of the Howling Commando missions to win the war means that Bucky doesn’t really have time to process what’s happened to him; he’s incapable of coping in a healthy way at this point and charging forward, continuing to work, is the only way he knows how to survive.

Bucky has a bad habit of not avoiding his triggers when he feels the mission is more important than his mental health. A common theme throughout every film is that Bucky is put into one dangerous situation right after another, usually immediately following a five minute breather.

In Captain America: The Winter Soldier, we see glimpses of Bucky Winter being pulled in and out of cryofreeze, placed on mission after mission. The one time we begin to see that there’s more to Winter than they’d have us believe is when Bucky’s memories surface for a hot minute in the bank vault. He has about 30 seconds of downtime where he’s aware and then…wipe him. Back on the mission to kill Captain America. Everything about his time as the Winter Soldier was dangerous; it’s not like Hydra really cared about his physical or mental health. All those years of trauma and overworking probably crashed down on Bucky, hard, the moment he was in control of his own mind again and able to rest. And his brain was in physical shambles on top of it. Poor Bucky.

Source: https://mishasteaparty.tumblr.com/post/93678343244/prep-him

Similarly, in Captain America: Civil War, we get this amazing scene:

Source: https://mackievanstan.tumblr.com/post/176453875698/let-him-rest

And another in Avengers: Infinity War:

Source: https://mackievanstan.tumblr.com/post/176453875698/let-him-rest

Once again, Bucky keeps getting thrown back into the middle of a fight when he needs to be resting. This is a very, very bad idea. Super bad. Could really fuck with Bucky’s mental health permanently, bad. This is pretty much the definition of overworking to a detrimental degree.

But what I really love about his reactions in both of these scenes is that he knows exactly how poor of an idea it is. He knows continuing to fight isn’t good for him and he’s exhausted. He goes willingly anyways, but he has this amazing control over himself at this point. Every single fight could have Bucky experiencing an episode and losing himself to the trauma; he doesn’t. (To be fair, I think this is what the Russos were hinting at but they could have worded it so much better). Bucky could have walked away. He could have surrendered in Bucharest, he could have hidden in Wakanda. He fought anyways.

This shows just how complex Bucky’s PTSD really is and how well he’s coping with it: he’s engaging in dangerous behaviors which could trigger him, but he’s doing so with awareness and self-actualization. He’s got a handle on himself. These coping behaviors directly contradict the Russos’ statement that you “don’t want to give another weapon to that guy, it could end up being used the wrong way.” With the exception of being literally triggered with the Winter Soldier code words (which are no longer a threat because good job, Shuri), Bucky fights the good fight every single time. He doesn’t go rogue. He doesn’t lose himself.

Yeah, if that doesn’t make him a hero, I don’t know what further proof I can provide, because he does this in literally every single film.

Active Coping

Active coping means accepting the impact of trauma on your life, taking direct action to improve things, and creating habits that help you respond to everyday life in a positive manner. Avoiding triggers - people, places, anniversaries, or other reminders of the traumatic event - can be a healthy coping strategy.

The first time we see Bucky take a step toward positive active coping is in Captain America: The Winter Soldier:

Source: https://thatpleasantnightmare.tumblr.com/post/147118407198

Bucky just escaped being a prisoner, was injured in a gruesome fight with his best friend, and is now on the run. What’s one of the first things he does? Research. More than that, in this scene, Bucky is clean, in civilian clothing of his choosing, and appears to have treated his injuries from the fight on the carriers. His eyes are clear and although he is in a public (read: dangerous) setting, he’s aware of his surroundings, has a calm grip on reality, and is processing information. This is Bucky taking the first step to actively reclaiming his identity. This is when we see him begin to heal and he’s doing it on his own. He’s on step one of learning to actively cope: accepting the impact of the trauma on your life.

Bucky continues to exhibit positive coping strategies on his own as time moves forward, as we see in Captain America: Civil War. By the time we meet up with Bucky in Romania, he’s already taken direct action to improve his situation. When we first see Bucky, he’s at a local market, smiling and engaging in conversation with a vendor while he buys produce. He looks good; is physically fit, is practicing hygiene, and is in clean clothes that protect his identity.

Source: https://buckybgrnes.tumblr.com/post/174829011372

I love this scene and specifically the way Sebastian played it, because we see Bucky exhibit positive and negative coping strategies nearly back to back. As he’s trying for normal, he’s also hyper aware of his surroundings, unwilling to let his guard down. He’s scanning for anything that could trigger him or endanger his health, but he is aware. Staying alert and on guard is a classic symptom of PTSD.

Source: https://kittyseb.tumblr.com/post/144559460240/this-whole-scene-of-bucky-on-the-streets-of

However, we have to understand that Bucky’s situation requires this sort of hyper vigilance. He’s a wanted man, both by Hydra and the CIA, and he’s actively being hunted. So although Bucky is displaying a classic symptom of PTSD, what we see here is him deploying a positive strategy for coping. By staying aware to his surroundings, he’s protecting himself. This is opposite to the kind of harmful behavior we should expect from him at this point in his recovery. He’s by himself, without any support, and has to look over his shoulder every block to make sure that he’s safe. Extreme hyper vigilance would show being Bucky afraid to leave his apartment altogether. Again, while he is suffering and displaying symptoms of active post traumatic stress, he’s also actively coping by taking direct action to improve his circumstances and creating habits that improve his daily life.

Through the entirety of the Romania scene in Captain America: Civil War, we catch glimpses of other healthy habits and positive coping strategies Bucky has developed.

Practicing Mindfulness

One really great blink-and-you-miss-it detail from the film is the existence of Bucky’s journals. As Steve goes through Bucky’s stuff (really, Steve?), you see him pick up a journal from the top of Bucky’s fridge. Inside are notes, memories, and references, categorized and marked by tabs. This is one of my favorite examples of Bucky using another strategy for coping with PTSD: mindfulness.

Source: a shitty screenshot I took from the movie.

Mindfulness: a mental state achieved by focusing one's awareness on the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one's feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique. Mindfulness may help people get back in touch with the present moment, as well as reduce the extent with which they feel controlled by unpleasant thoughts and memories.

This is an extremely positive practice for Bucky, because at this point in the films, he’s still suffering from brain damage and memory loss. We see several examples of Bucky shaking his head, blinking, and losing himself to possible memories throughout the films. Journaling, as a way to capture those memories, categorize them, and begin rebuilding a timeline of his life, can help Bucky identify his triggers, work through episodes, and ultimately distinguish between past memories and the present, enabling him to regain control of his mind.

Maintaining a Healthy Lifestyle

When Bucky appears on screen, we see that he’s physically fit and obviously taking care of himself. We can assume that during his time as the Winter Soldier, Hydra kept Bucky in peak physical condition in order to succeed in every mission. Whether that was through training, supplements, drugs, the super soldier serum, etc., we don’t know. We don’t see Bucky continuing this training, but we do see the results of it. He’s capable of fighting, obviously maintaining his strength, and he’s able to run away.

Source: https://captaincentenarian.tumblr.com/post/149852437382/bucky-running-majestic-hair-appreciation

We also witness Bucky making healthy choices in terms of food. He’s got energy/protein bars in his apartment, snacks readily available, pots and pans which would imply he has been cooking, and even a thermos to keep himself hydrated. He’s doing his best to maintain his physical health, which in and of itself is a very positive coping method. He could be depressed, lost in his own mind, never getting out of bed. But Bucky wants to survive, he wants to be better, and so he takes care of himself. This is a good thing.

If you haven’t seen it, please read this post about Bucky’s apartment, because it hits on so many great points about how Bucky is taking care of himself.

Recognizing and Avoiding Triggers

Now for as many positive steps Bucky has taken to actively cope with having PTSD, he’s got awful luck when it comes to avoiding his triggers. It’s two steps forward, one step back, every time.

At the beginning of Captain America: Civil War, Bucky is trying his damndest to avoid being caught. But stupid Zemo has other plans.

Look, it’s hard for me to describe what happens next in the film. The way that Sebastian played these scenes will never not give me chills. We get an up close and personal view of Bucky’s PTSD in ways we’ve only caught glimpses of up until now; I don’t know what Sebastian researched in order to create this performance, but it is so spot on that it’s difficult to watch. I wish he got more credit for his acting and it’s a damn waste that he only had 30 seconds of screen time in subsequent movies. *sigh*

Anyways...

We see the acceptance and the fear in Bucky’s eyes as the CIA takes him into custody. He’s maintaining his composure, more than he should be capable of doing at this point, and he’s also letting himself slip into a safe zone (“I don’t want to talk about it.”). Until Zemo begins reading the trigger words.

Source: https://cvssian.tumblr.com/

Good grief, y’all. Look at him struggling. Bucky literally tried to fight his way out of being triggered, but he failed. Every fear he’s had for the past several years is happening. He’s losing control of his mind, of everything he’s worked so hard for up to this point. I don’t want to look too far into this as a commentary on Bucky’s character, because I don’t think the writers meant for it to be the deep - it serves more as a plot point to get us to the war part of Civil War - but if you stop and examine it for just a second, this scene is an absolute outrage. I can’t believe this happened to Bucky’s mind. They turned him into a weapon, again. They stripped him of years of hard work and recovery.

Source: https://brolinjosh.tumblr.com/

Thankfully - thankfully - one quick hit to the head later, and Bucky’s back. Not only is he aware of his surroundings, he’s cognizant enough to try playing dumb to Sam and Steve at first. I like the conversation that takes place between Bucky and Steve here, because Bucky was smart enough to give Steve exactly what he needed to hear to prove that Bucky was no longer a threat. We don’t talk about Bucky’s raw intelligence enough, likely because we’re always talking about his grief, and this scene gives us one of the rare moments in the film where we get to witness Bucky strategizing. He was just triggered, his brain is mush, he just lost control of himself, and then immediately after, he’s back on mission. We’re back to avoidance/no time to process. Bucky tucks being triggered as Winter into his back pocket to be dealt with on another day.

Remember how I said Bucky keeps getting thrown into fights, one after another? Guess what.

Source: https://captaincentenarian.tumblr.com/post/149852437382/bucky-running-majestic-hair-appreciation

There are a lot of significant, interesting parallels happening between Captain America: The First Avenger and Captain America: Civil War. The plot goes like this: Bucky was captured and actively tortured; Steve rescued him; they have no time to discuss what’s just happened and deal with it; and then Bucky is forced into another fight before he’s ready.

We can draw a lot of comparisons between the Howlies and Team Cap here and I wish that they had made the effort to explore this more in the film. This is the first time Bucky and Steve are fighting on the same team again since the war. Bucky is following Steve’s lead, even though he doesn’t know the people he’s fighting with/against, and he’s doing it because it’s for the greater good. They have to stop the other winter soldiers; the mission always comes first.

The biggest difference between the two films - and Bucky’s current state of mind - is that in The First Avenger, Bucky was actively avoiding recognizing his trauma after very similar events occurred, and in Civil War, not only does Bucky acknowledge what happened to him, we get this very poignant scene that’s both beautiful and devastating:

Source: https://bifelicitys.tumblr.com/post/182734674220/what-you-did-all-those-years-it-wasnt-you-you

This is a healthy outlook of acceptance and Bucky arrived there with nearly no outside assistance up to this point. This man has been through hell and back in the past 24 hours, on top of a hundred years of tragedy, and instead of breaking down as any reasonable person would, he fights. He has a long way to go in his recovery, but look how far he’s gotten on his own. And this is before Shuri’s help. Bucky’s willpower, tenacity, and depth of character never ceases to amaze me.

This is especially true with what happens next. You know how I said Bucky has awful luck in avoiding his triggers? Well...does walking back into the base of your own free volition where you were held prisoner and tortured for decades, count as maybe, oh I dunno, an event that should be avoided at all costs?

I’m being sarcastic but the depth of this moment shouldn’t be overlooked. Bucky going back to Siberia after everything he’s been through is a huge step backwards for his recovery. Siberia is crawling with triggers, from the threat of the other soldiers, to the cryo chambers, to the chair that wiped his memories and turned him into the Winter Soldier. The amount of bravery it took for Bucky Barnes to walk back into this place can’t be measured. He’s looking his history dead in the eyes with a shaky finger on a trigger and the fact that he doesn’t crack is astounding.

But then...this happens.

Source: https://tonystark.co/post/165333715841/buckys-facial-expressions-as-tonys-watches-the

I can barely stand to watch this because we are seeing Bucky actively having a PTSD episode. As the tape plays, Bucky is dissociating; he’s not there in the room with Steve and Tony, he’s back on the country road where he killed the Starks. The fear and the tears in his eyes, the recognition of what’s playing on the tape, and the knowledge of what’s about to happen are too much. His reaction here shows that he’s barely in control. He immediately responds to Tony lunging at him by raising his gun, an instinctive response, only to lower his weapon seconds later because of the acceptance of what he’s done. This is brutal and heartbreaking and very real.

It gets worse.

Source: https://itsawkwardfanboi.tumblr.com/post/176703555531/breaks-my-heart-seeing-him-about-to-pass-out

Bucky snapped in desperation and we witness him lose control in his battle with PTSD. It is very common for fight or flight to kick in under extreme circumstances and pressure; Bucky tried to escape, to avoid this outcome, but he couldn’t. The only thing he had left was to fight. We see Bucky lose control, not as Tony is threatening him, but because Steve is threatened. Bucky was fighting Tony, not to harm him, but to stop him, and not to protect himself, but to protect Steve. It’s an entirely different fighting style than Winter; it’s meant to disarm, not to destroy. Even though Bucky just experienced multiple triggers and traumatic events in a short timeframe, even though he is smack dab right in the middle of a traumatic episode, he still only wants to stop the fight, not kill. This is another example of how the Russos’ comments were unfair and incorrect. Bucky doesn’t go on murderous rampages; he tries to do what’s right. And what happens to him because of it?

He loses. Every single time.

Source: https://marvelworlduniverse.tumblr.com/post/172306346232

I will never forgive the writers for making Bucky lose his arm twice. Bucky has a real disability and it has always bothered me that his arm is only ever discussed as a weapon. The trauma from losing his arm the first time was never properly dealt with and here we are again, recycling that awful, painful, horrible plot point. There comes a certain point where you’ve hurt the characters enough and it does nothing for their character development. The grief, pain, and acceptance we see in Bucky’s eyes as he’s lying there wrecks me. He didn’t need to experience this. He’s been through enough. I don’t know how he’s still physically alive or not mentally lost without hope of recovery. But he is. He gets back up. And you know what he does next?

He asks for help.

Asking for Support

An important part of recovery is having a team of people around you to support you when times are tough. It is amazing to me that Bucky got as far as he did in his recovery, finding positive coping strategies and habits on his own while on the run.

Source: https://juliastiles.tumblr.com/post/178049225734/captain-america-civil-war-2016-dir-anthony

The acknowledgement of Bucky’s trauma in this scene was poignant and bittersweet and I’m very glad they included it, although I feel Steve here. It was sad to see Bucky go back into cryo, but it was necessary until the triggers could be safely removed.

And they were. This is my biggest issue with what the Russos said - they seemed to have either forgotten or refused to acknowledge what happened in Black Panther, when Shuri successfully removed the triggers and healed Bucky’s brain damage (cough, I know which one I’m placing my bets on, cough). We don’t disrespect Shuri like that in this house.

Source: http://stevechoosesbucky.tumblr.com/post/173521604559

From this point forward, Bucky’s brain is no longer damaged. He is no longer experiencing memory loss, nor is he capable of being triggered into Winter Soldier mode. Yes, he still has PTSD. Yes, he will need to continue to work on his recovery, just like Steve, just like Sam. And he does.

Speaking of Sam, this tidbit from Avengers: Endgame is really satisfying.

Source: https://paper-storm.tumblr.com/post/184537376766/can-we-talk-for-a-second-about-how-bucky-was-a

This moment is important because it shows that 1) Bucky is still very vulnerable and dealing with a lot of grief; the last time he saw Tony wasn’t exactly on the best of terms and now Bucky can never make up for what he did, and 2) Sam is an invaluable person to have at your side and a very, very good friend.

It’s hard to tell where we will go from here in the series/the next round of films, but I have a suggestion for a direction: get Bucky back to his positive coping strategies. Such as...

Spending Time Outdoors/With Animals

Before the battle in Avengers: Infinity War, we catch up with Bucky doing something seemingly very out of character: farming. Look, my blog name is Bucky the Farmer, it should tell you all you need to know about how much this tickled me when I first saw it. But upon further reflection, I realized how important this activity actually is.

Source: https://steverogersnotebook.tumblr.com/post/179505503935/bucky-in-wakanda-initial-recovery-vs-settled

It’s been shown that spending time in nature and around animals can have positive soothing effects on people who are recovering from trauma. Have you ever gone on a nice walk after a bad day to calm your mind, or spent a few minutes petting a dog? Do you exercise as a form of stress relief? It’s the same thing.

But what we’re also seeing here is Bucky taking responsibility for living beings beyond himself. He’s also interacting with children, an innocent and safe way to re-socialize himself. At this point, Bucky is past the stages of recovery where he needs to avoid, acknowledge, or actively cope with his trauma. He’s healing. He’s moving forward and learning how to live again, not just surviving day by day.

What happens next?

Prior to The Snapture, Bucky’s life was in Wakanda. Avengers: Endgame left quite a few stones unturned when it comes to Bucky’s future; we know that he’s in New York, that he won’t carry the shield, and seemingly, he and Sam are friends. He might hang out with Old Steve every now and again, visit his home in Brooklyn, or get a few goats. Maybe he’ll go back to Wakanda. Maybe he’ll be a part of the Avengers. We don’t know what Bucky will do next.

Regardless as to what happens, Bucky is in a good place. He’s experienced loads of trauma, but the physical and mental effects have been treated. His brain is not damaged and he’s continuing to recover. And when he’s ready, which I believe will be sooner than we think, he’s going to kick utter ass.

Bucky is still one of the most badass characters to ever be created; he’s efficiently deadly, a skilled fighter, the world’s best assassin. Those skills haven’t disappeared because he’s now in control of himself (and, some of those skills he had before he was the Winter Soldier; they were what made him a prime candidate in the first place. Remember, the Winter Soldier was supposed to be an equal foe to Captain America).

But he’s also so much more. Bucky has chosen to be morally good. A man who knows he can be the deadliest person in the room but chooses not to be is powerful. Is this not a direct callback to Erskine’s conversation with Steve in The First Avenger? Remember, Captain America is not a perfect soldier. He is a good man.

Bucky Barnes is a good man, no matter what trauma he’s experienced. So is Sam Wilson.

I absolutely believe it was the right choice for Sam to take up the shield at this moment in time. Let’s just get that out of the way, no Sam hate here. But I have a problem with the idea that Bucky couldn’t take up the shield because “he’s damaged” and that’s why it went to Sam instead. The Russos’ statements were insulting to both characters. Sam didn’t get the shield because Bucky wasn’t ready to carry it; Sam got the shield because it was right and he earned it. Sam deserves to be Cap just as much as Bucky deserves to take a damn nap. They don’t need to knock Bucky down in order to lift Sam up. It was a deliberate choice of words and it was wrong.

On some level, I understand what the writers and directors were trying to say: Bucky simply isn’t ready. And yet, they continue to speak about Bucky as if he’s weak, a villain, and permanently broken; I don’t think they can truly grasp how much of a complex and compelling character he really is. They had years to prepare a wise, thoughtful answer to the question of Bucky’s future and instead, they spouted off some ableist bullshit. They could take this character that embodies so much of what’s good and evil, right and wrong, fearful and hopeful, and use him to speak to hundreds if not thousands of individuals about the importance of never giving up and letting yourself find peace. They do this perfectly with Steve (“I can do this all day”) and Sam (“Are you going to carry it in a big suitcase or little man-purse?”) but why not with Bucky?

We just don’t know. But Bucky Barnes surely deserves better.

Source: https://captain-flint.tumblr.com/post/184564356218/bucky-barnes-in-avengers-endgame-looking-like-a

Recovering from trauma is an ongoing, nonlinear process. All Marvel characters have gone through some form of traumatic events and recovery. Bucky has experienced more than his fair share, but he will always survive, because that’s what he does. Now, he has the opportunity to thrive, if only the writers and directors will let him.

Sources:

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/post-traumatic-stress-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20355967

https://www.ptsd.va.gov/understand/what/index.asp

https://www.ptsd.va.gov/gethelp/selfhelp_coping.asp

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/ptsd-trauma/ptsd-symptoms-self-help-treatment.htm/

#bucky barnes deserves better #bucky barnes #avengers: endgame #endgame #russo brothers #tw: ptsd #the unknown future of james buchanan barnes

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fionaapplerocks · 6 years ago

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Fiona's explanation of her MTV Speech, as posted to the fan forum in 1997...

Hi everyone-

I've been meaning to write this for awhile now. Thank you very much for the birthday book. For those of you who contributed, I need to tell you that that was the most wonderful thing you could have done for me, and it couldn't have come at a better time- You should all know, that whatever it is that I and my music do for you, it can only be expressed so, because you're there listening. I'm proud of being the reason why so many wonderful people gather right here, and get to know each other, but I'm aware that I need you to be what I want to be. (There's no way to say that right.) Anyway, I gotta explain the MTV speech, because it's too annoying to be misunderstood, and if it's written down, I won't have to talk about it anymore. Here's what happened:

Sitting there in the audience, just before my award was announced, I had a crowd of people sitting around me, staring, awaiting my reaction to the outcome of the "contest". Now me,- I was sure I couldn't win. For me, MTV seemed like the land of the cool- the popular peoples' party, and I honestly didn't expect to be accepted and appreciated by the very ones who, at that point, still intimidated me, you know? I mean, I remember what it was like being a freshman in high school, and feeling so small and inadequate in the shadows of those beautiful "senior people". I remember actually believing that somehow their lives were better than mine- more fun and more meaningful, because they had status, and I didn't. Then, when I was a senior, I still thought the grass would be greener, only this time, it was the celebrities I was comparing myself to. I would watch these awards shows, watch them all walk down the red carpets, and think,- fuck- I'm nobody. Those people are special. They're perfect. Everyone likes them. They get invited to parties- they get all the pretty clothes. I don't have shit. I shop at Ross Dress For Less and I gotta pay a 10 buck cover charge to wait in the cold before anyone lets me into their parties, and even then, I'm still just me. No one knows my name. No one cares what I think. How come some people are born to grace and perfection and gleeful reception wherever they arrive, and others are doomed to be shunned and shamed for their misfortune and even for their sacred individuality? I know a lot of people feel that way, that's why people got so annoyed with me for saying what I said. They figured "she's got it all, and she's complaining to us?"

But you see, that's exactly the mentality I strive to overturn. I mean, you think I've got something that makes my life a fairytale- that makes my life enviable, because people know my name, I'm starting to make a lot of money? Well, I agree, I do. I'm lucky to be able to do the shit I do, and I love to do it, most of the time. But when I started with this whole music thing, I wanted to bring people together, and show them that all we are is what we feel. No one's got more than anyone else. Not really. The only thing anyone ever truly possesses, are the thoughts and feeling we use as fuel, to motivate ourselves into action. And the only things we can ever take real pride in, are the physical manifestations of all our pains and passions; the actions we control- the situations we create-the thoughts and feelings we provoke in one another. In that sense, we're all the same, and there's no reason to ever envy or feel inferior to anyone know matter how much fame and money they've got and there's no sense in even looking up to them, just because they've got those things. But this society is infatuated with celebrities. We look on hollywood with the eyes of desperate disciples. We copy their clothes, their hair do's and don'ts, their attitudes, behavior and even the most trivial of characteristics we read about in magazines, like what comic books they read, and what soda they drink. We herald them as gods, as royalty, and when we compare ourselves to them, we feel small. When I won, I felt like a sellout. I felt that I deserved recognition, but that the recognition I was getting, was for the wrong reasons. I felt that now, in the blink of an eye, all of those people who didn't give a fuck who I was, or what I thought, were now all at once, just humoring me, appeasing me, and not just because of my talent, but instead because of the fact that somehow with the help of my record company and my make-up artist, my stylist, and my press, I had successfully created the illusion that I was perfect, and pretty, and rich, and therefore living a higher quality of life. I started to resent being there, because I felt like I was now one of those seniors, one of those "better than thou" celebrities, who made me feel so small before, and now, I was going to make people feel small. I'd saved myself from the misfit status, but I'd betrayed my own kind, by becoming a paper doll in order to be accepted.

"It's stupid that I'm even in this world" only referred to that fact that up on that stage, I didn't feel cool. I didn't feel like I had graduated into celebrity, I felt like I snuck into that party, and because I was wearing nice clothes, and I was bearing a name that some people now recognized, somehow, I tricked them all into thinking I belonged. I thought they liked me for superficial reasons, and therefore, I resented being liked. (Just like when I was a junior in high school, and guys started asking me out all of a sudden, I know it was because of my physical metamorphosis. "I've always been a good person," I thought, and I hated their clothing for I knew it was due only to that fact over the summer I had grown breasts.) Does anyone see what I mean? I know I'm a little oversensitive. I'm cynical, impulsive, and in many ways, very stupid. But I had this thought, and I had this feeling, and I said it. I put it into action. I provoked conversation. And that, I am proud of.

Also, here is a letter I am sending to Spin (no explanation necessary). Three things: 1.) I do not think of Tori Amos as the "poster girl for rape"- I was merely referring to the danger in both of us being honest about our personal experience, when, as public figures, there is a tendency of the media to label us and reduce our music to simply a reflection of one cultural ill.

2.) I don't want to die. If you knew me personally, you'd see that I was just being me- sarcastically, cynically, and deadpan. (Please- I was coming out of a photo shoot- and if you read the article, you know I consider suicide a tasty alternative to modeling.)

3.) And finally, just to clarify, the "Criminal" video is not an erotic reference to my childhood assault- please. It's about the trouble in weilding the the double edged sword of female sexuality. The thin line between sweet seduction and subversive manipulation. How come I feel like a "Bad, bad girl", when all I did was have a night of fun? Just cause a girl gets her kick in bed, don't mean she's a victim, or a slut, or a whore. And if you're dumb enough to think I'm a victim, cuz I look "waifish", well then you probably can't read this letter, so what can I say?

One last thing. Remember, everything you see in the media, is what the people with the big desks want you to see. Seek your own answers to the questions that are raised. Like I said before, "Go with yourself!" --Fiona

#Fiona Apple #mtv #speech #MTV VMA awards #1997

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blackcatmanor · 5 years ago

Text

RWBY Vol. 7 Ep 8 Photo Review (Repost)

Tumblr decided to delete the actual post or something. I don’t know. I’m old man yelling at cloud right now. SPOILERS below

Characters done right.

Winter is QUEEN this episode. Winter’s line about “You’d have to pay me” to smile was great, and I liked her losing her cool and explaining to Penny it’s because of the bad memories in her house. I wish they explored this more, like in a flashback to Winter and Weiss’ childhood. That would have been great, and given a lot of set up into the toxic pool of despair they were both about to go back into. It was interesting her scene with Penny because it created a good juxtaposition from a human who WANTS to be less emotional and robotic, and a Robot that wants to be a human. *cute and tragic vibes intensifies*. It made me weirdly hope for more interactions between Winter and Penny- in which they help each other find a balance between humanity and a sense of duty.

Willow- I am so glad we got to see her. Though it started odd, like she was a total delirious, foggy drunk who forgot her daughter left, and suddenly she becomes super lucid but morose. The tone shift was weird but besides the first few seconds it was great. A lot was conveyed about her- that she’s fearful for her safety, she’s morose, but still cares greatly for her children. The deeper explanation of her putting cameras around could have again been serviced by a Schnee family flashback. Jacques was an authoritarian and awful parent, but not abusive. You can tell this because when Weiss was slapped in volume 4 she was surprised, like it was something that never happened before. However maybe in the past, Willow bore the brunt of Jacques’ authoritarianism, interfering when he was getting too angry towards the kids but causing the physical abuse to be directed towards her instead of her kids. This would explain why she seems concerned for her safety and why she would put cameras around- in case something happened to her there could be a way to bring Jacques to justice.

Nevertheless, the scene was good. You can really tell Willow cares about her kids and her exposition about Whitley was decent as well. But I have a huge death flag vibe about her….if Jacques finds out she’s been spying on him her greatest fears may come true. #ProtectWillow.

Qrow: I like seeing tidbits about Qrow’s struggle as a recovering alcoholic, though I wish they would talk about it more directly. We haven’t seen him a lot, and maybe he could mention that he’s attending AA type meetings or something. I also desperately wish that Yang and Ruby would address it! They have not directly interacted with Qrow much this volume, especially Yang who hasn’t talked to him since like one line in Vol. 6. I wish they would have a nice family moment where the girls talk about how proud they are to see Qrow overcoming his alcohol issues, and give him a good reason to keep on the path!

Speaking of Qrow:

SS Gayship: The trashship vibes are intensifying. Qrow is totally gay for Clover and I am here for it! Okay maybe it’s just friendly and not romantic, but it’s nice to see Qrow have friends. However, seeing how much they playfully interact means that I am going to be PISSED if they just make Clover some sort of double agent and shatter Qrow even more. With Ozpin’s betrayal, his estrangement from his family, his bad luck semblance, I think we have seen Qrow beaten down enough- can we not continually punch this poor character?

Robyn’s smirk at Winter when she says Jacques can’t buy trust like everything else is great. I am also here for shameless RobynXWinter vibes.

Characters done wrong:

Klein- RIP. I’m annoyed that they got rid of Klein. Was the voice actor not available? It would have been better to see him being abused by Whitley and Jacques, or maybe relegated to menial work rather than head butler. Seeing the fallout of his actions is more meaningful than just hearing it. Furthermore, it would also pack more of an emotional punch to see Klein being punished for his involvement in Weiss’ breakout, but Klein needs the work so he has to continue working for them in a more menial capacity.

Whitley- I’ve known for a while they are probably going to have a “rescue Whitley” arc but they’re going about it all wrong. Every discussion with him sucks and is stupid. He’s smarmy and flat as a character, with his only development coming from Willow later. The “revelation” that his façade of arrogance is really because he’s hurt Weiss left him behind in Volume 4 doesn’t make sense, because Whitley was like that before she even left. His façade should come more from fear of his authoritarian, abusive father. Willow should have said something like “he was always trying to be on your dad’s good side, to avoid….well you know. But after you left, I am afraid he may actually be starting to EMBRACE your father’s perspective on life. So please don’t forget about your brother!” Or something like that. The writers and animators continually miss the chance to convey Whitley’s secret desperation as well. They showed one flash of fear in volume 4 and one in volume 7, but when he’s talking to Weiss he should be trying to talk to her in code, or having pain on his face!

Whitley is also the words worst Gmod player. The only person who can get away with the nonprop T-pose is Jeremy MonsterTruckin’ Dooley

Story stuff done right:

The little distraction bit to get Weiss away from Whitley was cute and funny. And it was nice to see comedy in a situation that lent itself to comedy. Last week I thought this “dinner” might have been an ambush in disguise, with Jacques luring Ironwood into Watt’s trap, but seeing how it was actually a huge party with News cameras, tons of guests, and the crew without weapons it immediately became clear this dinner was never going to be outright hostile, but instead served as a backdrop for exposition and plot development. To that vein, using it to give a bit of comedy is totally acceptable and breaks up the emotional scenes as well as the politically tense scenes.

I will say, though, I HATE the fat lady character. What’s with the voice? Is it supposed to sound like Ms. Piggy? This was kinda lame but at least Jaune’s slow mo “YESSS” and then their grimace was kinda funny. And it was a nice twist to have her covered in the food, making it seem like the plan failed, only to have the lady throw her drink on Whitley in a fit.

Faunus discrimination- This volume has been better about building a world that has Faunus discrimination, and the introduction of Marrow has been a big part of that. In this episode, they had one small tidbit with a Faunus guy working as a waiter, literally serving the Humans, but I wish they would have teased out the Faunus discrimination a little more. In this kind of wide setting, with TWO Faunus main characters and a Faunus waiter it would have been a great chance for a few scenes building the culture around Faunus hate.

These are snooty elites so maybe they don’t outright berate the Faunus people, but maybe they try to quickly grab a drink and shoo the Faunus waiter away, or they don’t make eye contact and awkwardly talk AROUND them. Maybe they gawk at Marrow’s tail or Blake’s cat ears before having to be turned away by their friends. Think of how people treat people they are uncomfortable around- homeless, mentally ill, etc. Often people aren’t outright rude to them but reactions can run the gamut from gawking, to awkwardly minimizing interactions, to trying to pretend like they don’t exist. Some of that would be nice, but at least they are taking steps to correct the lack of Faunus hate in previous volumes.

Misery in Mantle.

There is 1 homeless person shown in the episode, which is a 100% increase than prior episodes.

Story stuff done wrong:

So the council is only 3 members? That seems kind of small for a huge kingdom like Atlas. I wish there was at least 5 members, and we could see them speaking for different regions. Instead it seems like there are three members of the upper crust elite and that’s it.

The insertion of Robyn at the dinner was odd, but it seems like Jacques is trying to butter her up. He commends her “vigor” and when she said the people of Atlas are suffering he says “Quite right.” It seems like he’s trying to use Robyn’s frustration as a way to get her on the Anti-Ironwood team. This would at least make sense of why she is here other than to have her scream in between the conversation.

What was with the ending? I don’t get it. Watts disables the entire heating grid, which causes the rain to turn to snow in Mantle. Is this bad? Does this mean they are going to freeze to death? Probably? It wasn’t clear. People looked confused about the snow, and the kid seemed excited which makes me think it hasn’t happened before, but they didn’t seemed scared or really concerned.

#rwby vol7 #rwby spoilers #weiss schnee #Winter schnee #qrow #rwby #atlas #rwby v7 #rwby ruby

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peachymess · 5 years ago

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I finally watched Joker!

My expectations were sky high. And yet the movie exceeded them! What a stellar performance! What a great film! As a dark night fan, I WOULD say the only thing I wish differently was that Heath Ledger were alive to play the role. But you know what? I think Joaquin Phoenix was perfect for the role... to the degree where Ledger would be a less perfect fit, even! Ledger is my favorite Joker, but each adaptation fits its environment because they’re created together. Joaquin’s version was created for this film and it couldn’t have been done better by anyone else. I hope his performance will be recognized. An Oscar, perhaps?

I know I said it already, but what a great film! Certain things just hit me right in the gut. Other things scared me, and some things had me at the edge of my seat in engagement. Scary as it may seem, I get where the guy is coming from. This film was literally “this is where he’s coming from”, after all. Some things really hit home for me, although I thankfully live in a country where I - as someone who struggles with his mental health - is taken better care of. I could empathize with the guy, even though - thankfully - I am nowhere near as sick and irreversibly broken as him. But I get it. And if people walk away with just one impression, I want it to be that with better genuine care for the people around you, people who need help - people like him - will be caught in the net before they sink into the monstrous depths that Arthur did. He talks about feeling invisible, not sure he even exists, not being listened to. Through the film, it’s made very clear why it’s no wonder how all the physical reactions he finally manage to cause, attracts him. Being alternately stomped on and ignored for 30+ years, seeing people finally listen to you, hail you like a hero and painting their faces in your image... yeah. To a man who feels like he has nothing left, that’s probably the best tasting validation he’s ever gotten. And after all the abuse, I’m not surprised he doesn’t feel standard remorse and empathy for the people who’re now hurting, directly indirectly, because of him.

However... I feel like there’s a double message to the movie. Not just that of society often ignoring peoelpe in need, “so take care of the misfits, give the poor (mentally, financially, etc) some extra care”. There’s also the message of how these people who go off the deep end, despite being monsters created by society, have still, become monsters - even if through no initial fault of their own. Arthur/Joker has a lot of points. But giving in to the rage and sending all the vile mistreatment in return, gets nobody any closer to anything good. Arthur was mistreated, he deserved better. But that doesn’t exempt him from having to follow the rules. Just because other people are heartless, doesn’t mean you should be too. Did he deserve better? Yes. But not only does he become just as bad if he pays it all back, but he also helps perpetuate the kind of hostility and hatred that makes up a neglectful society that creates monsters to begin with. It’s too late for Arthur. But by his actions, just as indirectly as he’s killing the people who fall in his protest, he’s also indirectly making sure that this world continues to be a breeding ground for the kind of injustice that will create more Jokers. Someone else will hurt just as bad as him, and it’ll be - to some degree - thanks to himself. Perhaps he’d never be able to reach out as strongly with kindness instead of outrage. But a small audience listening to how kindness could have saved him, will spark many times more good, than setting the world ablaze... Arthur was clearly a danger to himself and others long before he became the joker. I blame society (yes I said it, we live in a society) more than him at this point. But not all who become sick, give up on empathy. Being mentally ill is not synonymous with having no regard for others. Even when mistreated and full of hatred, there should be limits in your heart, that keep you in line... What’s ironic is how Arthur clearly seemed to have been convinced from a very young age that he should pursue the role of “spreading joy and laughter into the world”. Things could have been a lot different.

Over all, you can spend a lot of time reflecting on the scales, the rights and wrongs... but even past that; past having to figure out where you stand in the grand scheme of things, Joker the movie, is just a god damn good movie about one man’s decent into despairing madness. And it’s incredibly well done. I expected it to be a 6/6 already, but I’d give it a 7/6 if I could. I knew it was going to be heavy, as well as potent societal commentary... but it also did the entertainment aspect of cinema justice tenfold to what I expected! It’s not an easy watch, but it was never ever boring under the weighty topics. God damn, what a good movie.

#joker #joaquin phoenix #the joker #it had nothing to do with inceldom dont even try me #not snk

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jaydier-blog1 · 6 years ago

Text

A Guide to Writing PTSD & Psychosis

Something I’ve noticed over my (too many) years on Tumblr is that sometimes, first-hand accounts of mental illness can be hard to come by. It’s totally understandable, and it took me a long time to get to this point, but it can put writers in a bit of a bind who aren’t satisfied with only the DSM-5 and Wikipedia to accurately portray their muse(s)’s MI. That being said, hi, my name is Holo, and I’ve been living with PTSD and comorbid psychosis for almost a decade at this point, and I’d like to share some of my experiences.

This is by no means a complete or exhaustive guide. The thing about brains is that apparently they’re complicated, and that means that everyone develops MI differently. While there are broad strokes that are generally consistent across diagnoses (and said broad strokes are typically what make up the ‘criteria’ of any MI), not everyone will have every single symptom, and not everyone will display the symptoms they do have the same way. I really do recommend using these sorts of guides as guides to writing MI, rather than actual rules.

I’mma start with some basic definitions. PTSD is post-traumatic stress disorder, which is a disorder that develops after witnessing or experiencing a traumatic event. Not everyone who goes through trauma will develop PTSD, and I believe the actual statistic is somewhere between 20-30% (double-check my factcheck before you quote me on that, please). Comorbid mental illnesses (or comorbidities) are MIs that occur with or alongside the ‘primary’ illness, usually because of said ‘primary’ MI. For example, my psychosis is comorbid with my PTSD; it is because of my PTSD that I have psychosis.

Psychosis itself is more of a broad term than a specific diagnosis, and it will generally assume one (or more) of three forms: 1) delusions, 2) hallucinations, and 3) disordered thoughts. I personally struggle mostly with delusions and hallucinations, and I don’t particularly experience disordered thoughts, so that’s what I’ll mostly focus on.

Before I move on, though, I want to share something that an old psychologist of mine told me and that I’ve never really forgotten: it’s possible, and even common, to experience and exhibit occasional symptoms of MI without ever actually having that particular mental illness. A random delusion or general panic attack does not mean your character has psychosis or PTSD. Again, brains are complicated, and what defines a MI diagnosis is the consistent, pervasive presence of multiple symptoms that interfere with the patient’s day-to-day life. You can have obsessive-compulsive tendencies without having OCD. You can be anxious without having anxiety. You can be depressed without having depression.

Another thing is that a lot of MI have symptoms that overlap (which is why comorbid MIs are, again, pretty common). My PTSD comorbidities include depression, anxiety, claustrophobia, and psychosis. In fact, when I first started displaying my PTSD symptoms, I was diagnosed with depression because that was the comorbidity that showed up most prominently at the time, and it took several more years before my doctors and I realized that my depression was a symptom and not the full illness.

Alright! Let’s see if I can break down things into more manageable chunks to talk about.

PTSD

PTSD symptoms are wide, varied, and incredibly subjective from person to person. In my experience, this variance starts with what exactly was the trauma that the PTSD is originating from. Someone who was in a war, for example, will have different triggers and experience different symptoms than someone who was abused (and even then, someone who was verbally abused will once again have a vastly different PTSD experience than someone who was physically abused). Figuring out what your character’s trauma was that caused them to develop PTSD is your vital starting point.

In my experience, PTSD tends to develop slowly. One of the things doctors look for when diagnosing PTSD is that patients are still suffering after six months have passed from the initial trauma. After my initial trauma, I thought I was fine. I was asymptomatic, until months later when symptoms started to creep up on me (and as I mentioned earlier, at first it appeared primarily as depression, and I didn’t even connect it to my trauma at the time).

I experience hypervigilence with my PTSD. I am always aware of where I am, looking for possible exits and escape routes. I get nervous and anxious if I feel trapped in a room or area. (I tried going to a corn maze once. It was a bad time.) I also have an exaggerated startle response. If someone sneaks up on me, accidentally or otherwise, I’m going to react much more dramatically than other people. It’ll frighten me a lot more than it would someone whose startle response isn’t so pronounced. At worst, I’ve had experiences where someone sneaking up on me and startling me as a joke sent me into a full panicked meltdown. (I’d been having a rough time before that, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.)

To which I’ll segue rather smoothly into things building up! I find it really difficult to ‘destress’ and relax if I have a lot of small triggers and uncomfortable situations pile up on me within a short period of time or without respite, to the point where something rather minor can set off an entire chain reaction and end up with what looks like an extreme overreaction.

Panic attacks can look different from person to person, or even day to day. Sometimes, panic attacks show up for me as in inability to focus, irritation and snapping angrily at every little thing while my hands shake to the point where it’s difficult for me to hold things. Other times, it’ll look like a screaming, crying mess, huddled up in a ball in a corner on the floor. How people express panic attacks varies greatly, and no one way is an ‘incorrect’ portrayal of your character’s panic attacks.

Flashback episodes are an easy, prominent way to showcase PTSD in media, and so it’s something that a lot of people are familiar with, but in a very narrow way. While it’s possible for someone experiencing a flashback to completely lose touch with their current reality and experience an exact repeat of their traumatic incident, that’s rarely the case. More often than not, my flashback episodes feel more like an overlay, where both reality and my flashback are happening at the same time. Innocuous things will suddenly seem much more ominous and dangerous, I’ll mistake the people around me for those who were present during my traumatic incident, and I tend to experience hallucinations (which I will go into more detail about later on). Someone in a flashback episode could even experience age regression, usually back to the age they were during the initial trauma. Flashback episodes and how someone experiences them are extremely personal, and I strongly suggest doing more research on the topic to find more varied accounts, and piece together how your character would respond to these events, if they even experience flashback episodes at all.

I’d like to take this next moment here to mention triggers. Triggers are highly subjective, depending on the person and their trauma, and they can often be obscure and strange. A particular scent or a familiar name could easily be enough to make someone extremely uncomfortable. Sometimes, triggers are only marginally connected to the initial trauma, or not seemingly connected at all. Conversely, something that might seem like an obvious trigger might not be a trigger at all! Brains are fucking weird like that. Also, a very common experience with PTSD (or any MI with triggers) is that day-to-day life is disrupted in favour of specifically avoiding known triggers. Crowded places will trigger my aforementioned claustrophobia, and so I will often avoid social outings, to the detriment of my friendships and familial relationships. (Which is a good example of triggers having nothing to do with trauma, actually. I was alone when my initial trauma happened. Why the hell am I afraid of crowds. @brain explain this) And not only this, but some days a trigger might not affect me at all! Triggers are so, so subjective. They’re a minefield of possibilities and dangers that can shift on what sometimes feels like a daily basis. It can be a real headache to deal with. Taking the time to get into the mind of your character and deciding what triggers them and what doesn’t it another important part of defining how you write their struggle with PTSD.

Psychosis

Since it’s what I have the least experience with, I’ll talk about disordering thinking first. Disordered thinking is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin, and people experiencing disordered thoughts can appear distressed, confused, and have issues articulating their emotions, even to the point of not being able to form full sentences or fully acknowledge questions being asked of them. I strongly suggest doing more research on this topic outside of this post if you think it might apply to your character.

Delusions are, again, fairly self explanatory. Delusions are probably my most prominent version of psychosis that I struggle with on a daily basis. Personally, the most frustrating part of delusions is that I’m well aware that they aren’t real, but I can’t shut them off anyway. In general, my most common delusions is that Person X is out to get me/is trying to sabotage me. Logically, I know that this is ridiculous, but I still have the anxiety and panic that that situation would induce. While I’m sure there are psychotic people out there who cannot distinguish their delusions from reality, and that is absolutely a valid way to portray it, I have personally never met someone like that. It seems to be a lot more common that delusional psychotics are aware that their delusions are not real, and yet we are still forced to change our patterns of behaviour to accommodate for that delusion as if it were real regardless.

Hallucinations are broad and come in way too many forms. Media likes to portray hallucinations as full-bodied apparitions that are indistinguishable from real life, and while that can be correct, I find that I rarely experience those. Most of my hallucinations are tactile hallucinations. These are hallucinations where I feel as though I’m being touched by someone or something, usually in a negative way (these hallucinations can even trigger or be triggered by a flashback episode). There are also auditory hallucinations, visual hallucinations, and even olfactory and gustatory hallucinations, although I’ve never had experiences with the latter two. Often, I find I can fairly quickly differentiate hallucinations from reality, just by doing a quick check around me. If someone is not touching me, the feeling of a hand on my arm is a hallucination. Visual hallucinations (of other people) tend to not interact with the rest of the world the same way a real person would. Auditory hallucinations do not have an obvious source, and those around me won’t react to the noise. And, of course, the usual disclaimer of everyone who experiences hallucinations experience them differently applies here too, this is just my personal experience with hallucinations.

In conclusion

PTSD and psychosis are both broad MIs with a lot of complexity that vary from person to person. I fully encourage you to continue your research into these MIs and discover what is right for your character(s). I’d like to reiterate that this post is non-exhaustive and has focused on my personal experiences with my day-to-day life as someone who has these MIs. This post is absolutely available for you to reblog if you’d like, and my ask box is right here if you have any questions or discussions you’d like to direct to someone willing to be a first-person source on these topics.

I hope I’ve helped! Now go forth and write! :D

#pstd writing guide #ooc;; the universe is a hologram #psychosis writing guide #writing guide

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scripttorture · 6 years ago

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I'm working on something set in the Star Wars universe. The charcter I'm writing with is being stalked by someone using the Force to induce nightmares, soon after he first hits REM sleep, leaving my character with about 90 to 120 minutes of anxiety spiked sleep a night for over six months. I know short term what this does to a person's body and mind, but long term, less so. Can you help me out with sleep deprivation as torture?

Iam very glad I invested in those new books on sleep. :)

Partof why this one (and the other ask focused on sleep deprivation) tookso long is because I felt I needed to do more reading in order toaddress them properly. And having done at least some of that extrareading- I think this is a good idea in terms of story potential butI think this scenario might be too extreme for the time frame you'reproposing.

BothNREM and REM sleep are necessary for continued health and well being.As well as, well life.

Bycutting off sleep at 90-120 minutes the body is being deprived ofhuge chunks of both.It’salso worth noting that the patterns of NREM and REM sleep atdifferent times of the night might well be doing different things.Experiments where researchers have interrupted particular chunks ofsleep at particular times seem to suggest different effects.

Allthe experiments I’m aware of that do that with people have beenpretty short term (the longest I’ve seen was a few days) andtorture/abuse scenarios don’t generally tend to focus on oneparticular type of sleep.

Therearesome experiments on rats from uh- the days before ethics committeescared about rats. Researchers deprived rats of sleep until they died.Then they tried depriving rats of particular kinds of sleep to see ifthat makes a difference. Deprived of REM sleep rats die as quickly asthey do from total sleep deprivation. Deprived of NREM sleep ratsstill die, but it takes three times longer. Around 15 days and around45 days if you’re interested, (please be kind to rats).

Forhopefully obvious ethical reasons I’ve got no idea how this maps onto humans.

Myinstinct here is that the 6 month time frame is probably going to bemore important to the story then where exactly in the sleep cycle thecharacter wakes. I can see exactly where you’ve got the 90-120minutes from, it’s the first cycle of REM sleep. It’s alsotypically one of the shorter periods of REM sleep.

ButI’m not sure how survivable 6 months on 2 hours of sleep is.

Unlessthe character was already ill, injured or immuno-compromised then I'mnot sure it would be directly fatal. By which I mean- I don't thinkthey'd be dying from the kind of gut bacteria rapidly infecting theentire body in a lethal way that killed those experimental rats. Butthere's still a lot of ways that this extreme state of sleepdeprivation could more indirectly lead to death.

Forinstance it massively increases the chances of a heart attack orstroke in adults. And that chance rises still further the longer aperson is sleep deprived. The drop in reaction speed, processinginformation, working memory and coordination can all lead to seriousaccidents. Combined over the long term accidents are almostguaranteed.

I'vefound individual cases of real people surviving periods similar toyour character on similar amounts of sleep. But every case I've foundseemed to involve someone who was hospitalised for most of that time.

Youcouldplausibly have the character live but he’d need some prettyintensive care. Because of how agitated and emotionally volatilesleep deprived people can be (coupled with the memory loss it causes)I think he’d need to be watched round the clock. He’d need peoplethere to tell him where he was and why occasionally. He’d needpeople who could persuade him not to leave the sick room, not to dodangerous things or to just calm him down.

Thislevel of sleep deprivation for this time would effectively take himout of the story. If that’s what you want and the story is centredon other characters saving him, that’s absolutely fine. But if youwant this character playing a more active role then I thinkincreasing the length of time he’s sleeping nightly is going to benecessary.

I’vegot some suggestions for that I think could fit with the story idea,first I think I should talk about the likely effects of what you’vegot.

Ithink the first thing to really grasp is that there isn’t really aleveling out effect with sleep deprivation. There isn’t a pointwhen any of these factors stop getting worse. Not until the charactergets some sleep. In that sense it’s very much like starvation:there’s only one way to treat the problem and even then there’s arisk the damage already caused is too great for total recovery.

Inthe long term, ie after he’s able to sleep normally again and pastimmediate recovery, this character will still have a hugely increasedrisk of a whole host of problems. Cancer, virtually every sort, seemsto become more likely with sleep deprivation. Heart attacks, strokes,diabetes. Vaccines become less effective (sometimes ineffective) ifthey’re administered when someone is sleep deprived. Which can leadto problems later. There’s a decrease in fertility for both men andwomen. Increased risk of Alzheimer’s. There are also effects on theDNA some of which may be permanent. Most of the effects I’ve readabout are effectively ‘ageing’ the DNA, shortening the protectivetelomere caps on chromosomes. This means that changes may not bepassed on to children but I’ve not seen an epigenetic study on thesubject.

Theremight well be generational effects.

He’dcertainly be looking at a shorter life span generally.

Interms of when he’s actually being deprived of sleep. Well over thistime frame with this extent of sleep deprivation it would be prettycatastrophic.

Hismemory would… probably pretty much fail from a functionalstandpoint. He’d very quickly reach a point where he’s forgettingmost of the time he’s awake.

He'dbecome extremely emotionally unbalanced. Depressive symptoms, extremeagitation, aggression and anxiety are all common. Highs of positiveemotions are possible too, technically. But I've only ever seen thatdescribed in cases where sleep deprivation was voluntary. Sleepdeprived people don't tend to stay in one of these moods but havepretty severe mood swings between them. Unless they're alreadysuffering from a condition effecting mood.

Ifthe character has a pre-existing mental health problem this willprobably set it off. Sleep deprivation for one night has been shownto knock people with manic depression from a 'stable' emotional stateinto either a depressive episode or a manic episode. Sleepdeprivation has also been linked with increased suicide attemptsacross a variety of mental health problems.

Thelack of REM sleep in particular would effect his ability to processemotions. It stops us from...decoupling intense emotion from memory.That doesn’t just mean that negative experiences feel moreintensely negative for longer. It more broadly effects emotions and aperson’s ability to navigate them.

Italso interferes with our ability to accurately recognise otherpeople’s emotions. And when sleep deprived we tend to err towardsseeing other people as threatening.So we don’t just misread their emotions but we tend to read theworst possible intent.

Lackof REM sleep also effects creativity and problem solving. Buthonestly, given the extent of sleep deprivation here generally Idon’t think that would be distinguishable from the character’sother symptoms. His memory would likely be so bad that creativeproblem solving would be impossible anyway.

He’dprobably talk nonsense pretty regularly and he’d hallucinate. Mostsleep deprivation hallucinations I’ve heard of have been eitherneutral or negative. A lot of them sound pretty threatening andfrightening. And they’re likely to further feed into negativeemotional states.

Physicallyspeaking he’d have extremely slow reaction times. He’d sometimesfail to react completely. Within the first week I think he’dstruggle with fine motor control, things like doing up buttons. He’dget shakes. By the first month I’m not sure he’d be able to walk.

He’dget sick much more easily and even simple colds would have a muchbigger impact on him. He’d take longer to recover. Wounds wouldtake longer to heal and infections would be more likely.

He’dfeel more hungry and a lot of the food he’d crave would be fattyand sugary.

Ontop of all this sleep deprived people have been consistently shown tounderestimate the effect of not having enough sleep. Like drunks whoinsist they’re sober sleep deprived people thinktheyare capable of doing things they’re in no state to attempt.

AndI feel like it’s worth stressing that this ispainful. It’s a kind of pain that’s difficult to describe becauseit’s not really associated with anything other than lack of sleep.But it is pain. It is the marked lack of something essential to oursurvival.

Maybe this is exactly what you’re going for; it would be a good way totake a character out of the plot for a while. However if you want thecharacter playing a more active role then I think allowing him moresleep is essential.

Obviouslyyou want to keep the connection to REM sleep and dreaming (it’sgenius, you want to keep it). So I’d suggest rather than cuttingoff sleep at 90-120 minutes during the first short period of REMsleep at ‘cycle 1’, do so during the longer period of REM sleepat around 5-5 ½ hours in ‘cycle 4’.

Theselater cycles of REM sleep are longer and may be more intense. Easilydouble the length of time of the first REM sleep cycle. They’realso the periods of REM sleep that currently seem to be judged asmost significant.

Andthis would stillleave your character on death’s door in the time frame you’vegot, he’d just have a longer period where he could play a moreactive role in the plot.

Fivehours sleep a night, rather like some of the crazily extreme dietsout there, is incredibly damaging and very much normalised.

Forinstance, sleeping about 6 hours a night rather than about 8 raisesthe risk of serious injury in professional athletes from about 35% (8hours) to about 75% (six hours). That’s not ‘over a prolongedperiod’. That’s one night of missed sleep.

Aftersix nights the response time of someone who is regularly sleeping forabout 4 hours is at the same level as someone who didn’t sleep atall for a night. That’s an average drop of 400%. (From separatetests, someone driving on 4-5 hours sleep is almost four and a halftimes more likely to crash).

There’sa delightfulexperiment where a scientist squirted live cold viruses up the nosesof volunteers. Which showed that if someone slept an average of fivehours over the week before their infection rate was around 50%,whereas at seven hours or more the infection rate is around 18%. Asimilar level of sleep restriction (4-6 hours a night for a week)leads to a 50% drop in immune response to vaccines. And a singlenight on four hours sleep leads to a 70% drop in natural killercells.

Ander- testosterone levels fall to a degree that effectively ‘ages’men by 10-15 years.

Practicallyspeaking what this wall of statistics means for your character isthat he’d be able to functionfor a good period of that six months. Perhaps as long as 3-4 months.But he’d show a noticeable drop in ability across- basicallyeverything.

It’sa drop that he’d gradually become acclimatised too. He’d probablyclaim that he’s ‘used to it’ and can do things again. Eventhough his actual performance would say otherwise. He’d also besubject to the same intense emotions and mood swings and significantmemory problems.

Andas with the more extreme scenario every aspect would be getting worseevery day. Neither scenario has a 'leveling out' affect where he'sat a steady physical/mental performance. A long term sleepdeprivation story is about decline. What I'm suggesting here ismaking the decline less steep. Because the original scenario wouldvery quickly rob the character of his ability to remember, physicallyperform tasks, think coherently, communicate and survive.

Someoneon five hours of sleep for six months is probably also going to behallucinating, occasionally incoherent, unable to concentrate andparanoid by the end. But I think someone who was only sleeping fortwo hours a night could get to that stage in the first or secondmonth. One of the sleep scientists I've been reading compares theemotional and mental effects of sleep deprivation to severe mentalillness and from everything I can see he isn't wrong. The paranoiaand hallucinations are reminiscent of psychosis, the extreme moodswings are reminiscent of manic-depression. The upswing in suicideattempts is frankly terrifying, especially when put into the largersocial context encouraging long term lack of sleep. Sleepdeprivation, even in the relatively short term, causes structuralchanges in the brain.

Iwant to leave you with both options because I think that the'appropriate' level of sleep for this character is really dependenton your story and what you want the character to do. If you want thecharacter to be active in fixing the problem and able to communicatehis situation with any coherency beyond the first few days then Ithink you need to change how long he's asleep for. If on the otherhand you need him out of the story for a period of time and you wantother characters to fix the situation for him then the first scenarioworks perfectly well.

Ofall the books I've read on sleep and the lack of it recently, I thinkthe one most relevant to this ask (and most readable) is M Walker'sWhyWe Sleep(Penguin 2017). He doesn't explicitly reference every study he quotesbut he does give credit to the scientists who conducted the work andfurther details can be found by looking up their universities in mostcases. I think you'd also benefit from taking a look at some survivoraccounts of sleep deprivation. So far as I can tell none of thesurvivors in Monroe's book were sleep deprived and Alleg doesn'treally describe it in 'TheQuestion'.

Ithink the best book you could get hold of is an old Russian one byMenachem Begin called WhiteNights.I haven’t gotten hold of a decent copy yet but it’s one of thesurvivor accounts of sleep deprivation everyone references. For aninside view of what it feels like I think you should give it a look.

Ihope this helps. :)

Disclaimer

#tw torture #sleep deprivation #fantasy ask #sci fi ask #fanfiction #sleep #REM sleep #dreaming #health and sleep #effects of sleep deprivation #komikbookgeek

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transqueerquestions · 6 years ago

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So this may be a bit touchy: isn’t dysphoria like a mental illness like wanting to drastically alter your physical anatomy doesn’t seem like something to be celebrated to me(my mother had to get a double mastectomy, if medically unnecessary I don’t understand why it’s done) and I’ve seen statistics(idk how valid) that the suicide rate doesn’t decline after surgery. Anyway my question: am I missing something? cause I see lots of people encouraging surgery/getting it. I mean no disrespect Thx -kB

Howdy, Kadence here.

What I hear from you:

- is dysphoria a mental illness?

- it doesn’t make sense for someone to celebrate drastically altering their physical anatomy

- I’ve seen statistics that the suicide rate doesn’t decline after surgery.

- Lots of people are encouraging surgery, why?

Let me know if that’s not what you were trying to communicate.

Here’s what I have in response. (rather long, apologies!)

IS DYSPHORIA A MENTAL ILLNESS?

So gender dysphoria is a term in the DSM-5 (diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders, edition 5) involving a difference between one’s experienced/expressed gender and their assigned gender, which causes significant distress or problems functioning. It lasts at least six months and is shown by at least two of the following:

A marked incongruence between one’s experienced/expressed gender and primary and/or secondary sex characteristics

A strong desire to be rid of one’s primary and/or secondary sex characteristics

A strong desire for the primary and/or secondary sex characteristics of the other gender

A strong desire to be of the other gender

A strong desire to be treated as the other gender

A strong conviction that one has the typical feelings and reactions of the other gender

Here’s a link to more information regarding the diagnosis of gender dysphoria:

https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/gender-dysphoria/what-is-gender-dysphoria

So essentially, gender dysphoria is an incongruence with gender, meaning someone experiences distress or problems functioning due to incongruence with their body, specifically primary/secondary sex characteristics, social environment (gendered spaces like bathrooms, pronouns, gendered language, etc), and mind (how you see yourself, your own identity, expression of self). Having gender dysphoria creates significant problems for individuals who suffer from it, often resulting in a comorbidity (simultaneous diagnosis) of depression, anxiety, and general mental health symptoms. There is debate on if gender dysphoria is to be considered a mental illness, or is simply a human experience, as many other cultures represent identities outside of modern male/female experiences without the lens of being ‘wrong’ or ‘ill’.

Here’s a link to an ask where I described gender dysphoria a little more detailed: http://transqueerquestions.tumblr.com/post/182072129871/hi-ive-been-questioning-my-gender-for-a-couple

It’s important to differentiate the presence of gender dysphoria in the DSM, VS the celebration of someone’s identity as a trans person who experiences dysphoria. You can have bipolar disorder, but not feel guilty for your diagnosis and the challenges you face, similar to how you can experience dysphoria which has significant impacts on your mental health and well being, and not feel guilty or shame in your celebration of overcoming or experiencing the challenges you face. I mention this because a “treatment” for gender dysphoria is transition related procedures, in addition to support and acknowledgment from your community. When you have an incongruence with your primary sex characteristics, social interactions, and self, you are experiencing distress 24/7 that your body and identity is not ‘correct’, that you constantly feel uncomfortable. You may become unable to hold relationships, attempt to avoid gendered situations, develop depression and anxiety, thoughts of suicide, or experience depersonalization (form of dissociation, a separation from reality). To mitigate these, transition procedures (surgery, hormone replacement treatment, name change, pronouns, etc) is what can alleviate these situations.

WHY ARE PEOPLE CELEBRATING SURGERY? WHY CELEBRATE DRASTICALLY ALTERING YOUR BODY?

When people are celebrating/encouraging surgery, they are doing so as a way to express their freedom from this constant emotional and mental pain. A vague comparison is an amputee who decides to remove their limb. This individual might have a technically working limb, but due to an injury or medical situation, they experience chronic pain, prohibiting them to engage in life to their fullest potential. They may make a choice to drastically alter their physical anatomy, but it is for the betterment of their health. Here’s two videos describing their experience with choosing to amputate:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaIIu6bFKVo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BefxfzARZwA

When you speak about your mother getting a mastectomy, she did it for the betterment of their health, just like someone experiencing gender dysphoria does so for the improvement of their health. The difference is just less visible and more mentally based than physical, so it’s more confusing to understand on a surface level. Even so, transitional related surgeries are medically necessary, because not doing so can result in the development of mental illnesses and/or suicide.

DOES THE SUICIDE RATE DECLINE AFTER SURGERY?

When I got my top surgery, it allowed me to comfortably wear clothes, exercise, breathe better, have an increased sense of self-esteem which has lessened my feelings of depression and suicidal thoughts, and more. I am currently on hormones, which are slowly changing my secondary sex characteristics, to help me feel more at home in my body, and to also help alleviate my social dysphoria, so I am not read as female. Surgery was scary, and I wish I didn’t have to do that as much as I don’t want to inject myself once a week with testosterone. But it has literally saved my life, and I would have likely died by suicide without it. I celebrate drastically changing my body because it drastically changed my life for the better.

While this has been my experience, it’s important to understand that everyone is different. Sometimes experiencing gender dysphoria for so long without intervention leads to the development of mental illnesses that need further treatment, that may contribute to suicidal thoughts. In regards to what you say about suicide rates, you might be referring to this study which was done in Sweden:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3043071/

They concluded that people post-op in gender reassignment surgery (specially bottom surgery or genital surgery) did not have their suicidal thoughts decrease. They theorized that it’s because surgery does not “”cure”” transsexualism (a rather outdated term). But it’s also important to remember that this study was done only in Sweden and just with 324 people, which doesn’t come close to representing the community of people from a variety of backgrounds. This was also done in 2003 when not as much information was available, and only based on bottom surgery, not other surgeries such as a bilateral mastectomy or hormone replacement treatment.

Here’s a related article:

https://thinkprogress.org/no-high-suicide-rates-do-not-demonstrate-that-transgender-people-are-mentally-ill-5074c09a5827/

There are also incidents of individuals undergoing transition related surgeries or treatment, and then needing to detransition. These individuals did not experience gender dysphoria, but their trauma and dissociation (depersonalization) or other situations manifested themselves in a disconnect from identity, and transition often became a means of coping with said trauma. It’s important to remember that these are not transgender individuals who experience dysphoria, and their experiences to not represent trans people, or prove that transition doesn’t fix anything.

Here’s a short film of a woman’s experience with detransitioning:

https://www.theatlantic.com/video/index/562988/detransitioned-film/

It’s also a common misconception that surgery, hormones, and transition will cure dysphoria. This often isn’t the case. Dysphoria will likely be with you for the rest of your life, just how most mental illnesses stay with you. When individuals complete their transition, there can often be an increase of distress, because there are no more measures to be taken. But, just like any other mental health disorder, they can be improved, and coping skills can be in place to live a better life. Transition is a means of making life more manageable, even though it may not fully remove someone’s dysphoria.

IN CONCLUSION

I hope this helps better your understanding of transition related surgeries and trans experiences. While this will always be a safe space to ask any and all questions, keep in mind that not all trans people are open to answering to those comments. Find ways like this blog or other resources to ask questions and further seek knowledge, and avoid asking people who experience gender dysphoria in your own life unless they express that they are open with speaking about it.

Hope that’s helpful! Feel free to contact us/comment if you have any further questions.

#kadence answers #answered #dysphoria #surgery #transition #suicide #detransition #gender dysphoria #DSM #diagnosis

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