#its time for humanity to embrace those aspects of itself it's afraid of

[tenebrius-excellium]

I’m reminded of just how good Trollhunters was but also of how it kinda peaked in the middle of Season 3 and went rapidly downward from then on. Those pure None Shall Live Scenes, just...every time the amulet powered up...Claire’s mystery arc of discovering magic and developing her skill without getting any instruction, unlike Jim who was tutored by both his friends and his enemies and who was able to profit from centuries of knowledge and tradition...like, the way she had to go in completely blind and find out...and the way she did so well considering the circumstances... just the top tier humor, the NotEnrique and Chompsky and Goblin bits, Angor Rot and Strickler as glorious, complex and entertainingly dangerous villains... Draal... Draal... Toby and Barbara both knowing they were not the main characters yet still doing such a great job with their respective roles... and Jim being consistently conflicted about doing what was right and wondering what it meant to be a human warrior serving non-human creatures...

...and then the parents found out.

Idk that’s when it immediately turned sour for me.

Like, Barbara never really took a stance on what the discovery of the reality of trolls meant to her - it sort of remained her son’s “thing”. But what about herself? Was it cool to her? Did it spark her curiosity, her desire to explore and research - regarding new ways of medical treatment, for example? Why’d she never comment about Strickler’s ability to shapeshift...and did she like his horns in the end? Was she ever anything else than afraid and worried for the normalcy she used to know, instead of rejecting or embracing the possibilities and the wonder of the magical world?

Then Merlin appears, and it’s fine in itself that he is the character he is. He’s quirky and iconic and doesn’t have to change. But what happened to “Master Jim was correct! We are stronger together!” (quote Blinky, from when Claire opened the giant portal at the end of Season 2)? Why did Jim continue to walk alone after so many experiences that supposedly taught him the strength of community? Heck, he taught that exact principle to a desperate Nomura who had given up on someone coming for her in the Darklands!!! Yet it’s like he fails to learn the same lesson over and over...he makes the mistake of going into a life-threatening situation by himself, is then helped by his friends, everyone including himself assumes that he will natually choose better next time and then... he keeps repeating the exact same pattern endlessly as if he has amnesia. I understand that it might take a fictional hero a couple times for a certain lesson to sink in, just like it would for a real life person. But Jim never learns (not even in Wizards, not even in Rott). It gets frustrating and boring. Don’t get me wrong, I quite like Troll!Jim now, he grew on me. But it shouldn’t have been Merlin’s influence that drove Jim to become a troll “because there was no other way”, but because Jim decided for himself that this was the best way. He should have rejected Merlin’s initial suggestion, then realized he wanted it himself. Because frankly half his life and over half of his friendships were in the troll world by then, he loved their species and there were obvious advantages to fighting Gunmar as a troll - if only to truly understand their ways. But Jim’s character development kept being dictated by outside parties and therefore, got ground to a stagnating halt. He never learned to think beyond the authority of the people who made the amulet or wore it before him. He stayed dependent on all of the destiny stuff they told him instead of considering that the amulet might have been a tool of its own mind, bound to him, helping him into the freedom of making his own choices. Of course there is the aspect of only one person being able of carrying Daylight. But Jim did not have to follow the preset course that Merlin intended it for. I wish he didn’t. And that’s why, even though I’m happy that he became Troll!Jim, the ending of Season 3 just wasn’t as good as it could have been.

Jim, sweet gullible Jim who was just a little bit too receptive for random people’s guidance because he lacked a father figure, did not learn what I was led to believe was his arc over 3 whole seasons of plot, (to discern which voices to listen to and to gather confidence in his own strength while following a destiny) and since that issue was never finished nor fixed, the creators never gave him a new arc beyond the original problem, and so... that’s why Jim grew ultimately redundant. Slowly in Wizards, at lightning speed in Rott. And that’s how we ended up with a repetitive, nonsensical cycle of plot.

While Jim’s physical action potential grew consistently without his character truly evolving, Douxie on the other hand made it a point to learn how to grow personally fast.

Love him for it. Still wish he had been the main guy in Rott. Perhaps all would have been well. :) My point is, I really miss the earlier days of Trollhunters, because they really were that enjoyable and good!!!!

[sepublic]

I love the Castlevania show, but I can't help but be miffed by how much of the source material and colorful bestiary the show tends to ignore in favor of more vampires. I love characters such as Striga and Morana, but then you've got fairly generic ones like Dragan or Nikolai, who are just there to be obstacles and don't have any real personality themselves.

It's just a little confusing, because why do the writers keep trying to come up with OCs when they have plenty to pull from the actual games? In the games, vampires themselves are actually very rare; They're usually only represented by endgame bosses like Dracula, Bartley, Brauner, etc. Otherwise, the vast majority of enemies are night creatures, ghosts, haunted suits of armor, and the like.

But instead of embracing the weirder monsters like the Minotaur or Werewolves, the Castlevania show keeps defaulting to regular old vampires who are basically just humans with pointy ears and teeth. The show keeps defaulting to Vampire melodrama, like it's trying to emulate other pieces of Vampire media, instead of embracing what sets Castlevania apart from those stories. It has a concerning lack of weird castle exploration for a show called Castlevania.

Skeletons only appear in one scene, and I'm sorry but a common staple of a series should not be reduced to a mere fanservice cameo. It's like the Resident Evil live-action films making everything about zombies and reluctantly including a Licker as the ultimate monster. It's like if the Super Mario Bros. Movie barely had Goombas, they made the show too normal from the source material.

That isn't to say the source material is a perfect narrative, far from it; It can get pretty damn repetitive at times, especially with certain character roles and dynamics. I'll die on the hill that Annette's reimagining was justified, and Ortega and Hugh Baldwin are admittedly less interesting versions of Maxim Kischine.

The repetition makes sense! Castlevania's priority is gameplay, and each installment is meant to be its own thing. But when you're doing it as a TV show, a story, and having each story arc play a part in a larger narrative, you have to mix things up in terms of story and characterization, because you can't rely on different gameplay mechanics and levels to differentiate entries in an animated show.

But all that said, it's tiring how much the show will ignore aspects that wouldn't conflict with the writing at all in favor of more generic vampires. I don't want to see vampire politics and melodrama, but it's infinitely more interesting if its melodrama and politics between slimes and minotaurs!

I dunno, it feels like the show is limiting itself on an aesthetical level. What difference does it make in terms of writing if there's a flying Medusa head, or an Axe Armor? I think the writers are afraid of coming across as 'corny' as if Castlevania itself isn't crazy and anime as hell, but this just makes them come across as lacking sincerity. It's like how people complained about a bunch of 2000's movie adaptations of superheroes watering down everything to be more 'serious' and 'realistic' and 'believable', but it just made it grey and boring and cut away what made it unique.

The writers could've easily replaced characters like Dragan with, say, Sir Grakul from Super Castlevania IV, or had freakish looking night creatures be the ones to monologue (instead of treating Flyseyes as the one exception). There's acceptable departures from the source material, and then there's just straight up ignoring it, and then going out of its way to make up new things when stuff is already there to use. It's not as if the animators struggle with animating non-humanoid beings, considering how many unique night creatures they've come up with. So can we please stop being lowkey embarrassed of the source material???

It'd honestly make the show so much more memorable if we got to see Richter fighting a Skull Knight or Mummy. It's just so much wasted potential, especially when they ignore game Richter's compelling narrative of a Fallen Hero, in favor of making up something completely different. I can understand revising protagonists who barely have anything to them, like John Morris from Bloodlines, but Richter HAD a meaningful storyline to expand on, and one that deconstructs his role as a vampire hunter!

Given the show's attempts to be a grittier deconstruction and its suggestion that killing vampires isn't 100% good, I don't know why they didn't go with the idea of Knight Templar Richter whose desire to be needed in battle leaves him vulnerable to Shaft's brainwashing. The deeper, character-driven writing does not have to be mutually exclusive from fantastical and weird elements.

[mysticbewitched]

Hi! How are you? I hope you're having an amazing day. I found your blog this morning and i resonate with you so much! I agree with everything you said. I never really agreed with the other nd bloggers' teachings because I've always had the same perspective as you! But unfortunately, i wasn't brave enough to trust myself and follow my beliefs, so for a long time up until now I've been forcing myself to get the mindset "everything is an illusion, nothing exists, everything is meaningless". To be honest, i didn't want to view the illusionary world that way, but i thought that that's the only truth and the only right way. What i wanted was to make my human experience as beautiful as possible and enjoy it, while knowing my true nature. But according to that mindset "there is not a human experience, there is nothing to make beautiful, just be, blah blah blah" I WAS FEELING SICK OMGJSJD

Anyway, thank you for creating this blog and for not being afraid to stand up for your beliefs even though everybody else is saying that they are limiting or wrong. I read your replies to those people and i think you handled the situation so maturely. I hope that people learn to respect others' views, instead of thinking that any opinion which doesn't match with theirs is wrong and feeling the need to correct it. "This isn't what nd/av is about", i though that nd is just a concept and it doesn't exist...?

Always be brave enough to trust yourself, love.

Stay true to what feels right deep in your heart.

You never ever have to force yourself into a mindset that makes you feel uncomfortable and most especially when it doesn't resonate with you.

I'm so incredibly glad and relieved that you understand where I am coming from.

I want to share that I agree completely with everything you said. The sheer lack of respect and acceptance for other unique views is insane.

It's such a breath of fresh air to hear that we share the exact same perspective.

This physical experience as God in human form is such a damn beautiful gift, you know?

Awareness manifested itself into human form and the entire physical experience in order to embrace and enjoy the absolute magnificent beauty of this whole entire human experience which is filled with so much deep meaning and valuable moments to treasure. I just don't understand why it is the end of the world because I simply wish to acknowledge the human experience and all of its divinely crafted beauty. The human form and this whole human experience in its entirety is a beautiful manifestation in itself. The illusions here are that there's no objective physical world here and the deceptive appearance of separation among everyone. It's all from the boundless divinity of awareness.

I choose to enjoy my own life while knowing my true self and boundless nature as the divine source of everything in human existence. I strongly believe in having a delicate balance between enjoying the human aspects of myself while identifying with my true self as awareness. This would allow one to live with endless freedom, empowerment, liberation, and inner peace without feeling the need to deny their human forms and the whole human experience.

You should do the very same if that's what truly resonates with you and speaks to your heart. Always listen to your heart and what feels right to you.

It will never steer you wrong and allow you to live an incredibly beautiful life aligned with your personal beliefs and values.

You keep your head held high even when the whole world is against your views and you make the most damn beautiful beautiful human experience ever.

Thank you so very much for your kind words and appreciation. I wish you so much love and happiness on your own spiritual path. 🖤

[aadiyogi123]

Elevate Your Home Interior Design with Arch Studio: A Masterful Touch

Introduction

In the world of interior design, every space tells a story, and every room is a canvas waiting to be transformed into a work of art. For those who seek not just a place to live but a sanctuary that reflects their personality and style, Arch Studio stands as a beacon of creativity and innovation. With a unique blend of contemporary and timeless design, Arch Studio has made its mark in the field of home interior design, creating stunning and inspiring living spaces that harmonize beauty, functionality, and individuality.

In this article, we will take you on a journey through the world of Arch Studio, exploring their design philosophy, innovative concepts, and how they can help you elevate your home's interior design to new heights.

The Essence of Arch Studio

Arch Studio, founded by visionary designers, brings a fresh perspective to home interior design. They believe that a well-designed space has the power to transform lives and elevate the human experience. With a commitment to creating exceptional interiors, Arch Studio excels in both residential and commercial projects, establishing itself as a leading name in the industry.

One of the defining characteristics of Arch Studio's work is its ability to seamlessly blend modern and classic elements. Their designs transcend time, creating interiors that are both stylish and enduring. This fusion of styles is achieved through a meticulous understanding of their client's preferences, architectural context, and a deep appreciation for detail.

The Arch Studio Design Philosophy

The foundation of Arch Studio's design philosophy lies in a strong appreciation for the intersection of art, architecture, and functionality. Their work aims to create spaces that not only look aesthetically pleasing but also serve a practical purpose in the lives of their clients. Here are the key aspects of their design philosophy:

Personalization: Arch Studio believes that a home should be a reflection of the people who live in it. They prioritize understanding the unique needs, preferences, and lifestyles of their clients to create a personalized and tailored design solution.

Balance: Their designs emphasize the importance of striking a balance between form and function. Each element in a room is carefully chosen to ensure that it not only looks beautiful but also serves a practical purpose.

Innovation: Arch Studio is at the forefront of design trends, constantly pushing the boundaries of creativity. They are not afraid to incorporate new materials, technology, and concepts into their designs, creating innovative and stunning interiors.

Harmony: Their designs aim to create a sense of harmony within a space. This involves considering the flow of energy, the placement of furniture, and the color schemes to ensure a holistic and balanced environment.

Attention to Detail: Arch Studio is known for its meticulous attention to detail. From the selection of fabrics and finishes to the placement of accessories, every aspect of their designs is carefully considered.

Innovative Concepts by Arch Studio

Arch Studio's portfolio is a testament to its commitment to innovation and creative excellence. They consistently deliver fresh, imaginative, and unique concepts that leave a lasting impression. Let's explore some of their most innovative ideas:

Sustainable Design: In an era where sustainability is paramount, Arch Studio has embraced eco-friendly design principles. They incorporate renewable materials, energy-efficient systems, and sustainable practices to create interiors that are not only visually appealing but also environmentally responsible.

Open Concept Living: Arch Studio has mastered the art of creating open, airy, and flexible living spaces. They break down walls and create seamless transitions between rooms, making homes feel larger and more inviting.

Mixed Materials: Arch Studio has a knack for combining diverse materials, such as wood, metal, glass, and stone, to create textures and visual interest. The juxtaposition of these materials adds depth and character to their designs.

Art Integration: Arch Studio believes that art is an integral part of interior design. They seamlessly incorporate art pieces, sculptures, and installations into their designs, transforming spaces into galleries of personal expression.

Smart Home Integration: In an increasingly digital world, Arch Studio embraces the integration of smart home technology. Their designs often include automated systems for lighting, climate control, security, and entertainment.

Elevate Your Home with Arch Studio

Arch Studio's versatility is evident in its ability to transform spaces into environments that cater to a wide range of tastes and preferences. Whether you have a penchant for minimalism, maximalism, traditional, or contemporary aesthetics, Arch Studio can help you elevate your home interior design. Here's how:

Tailored Solutions: Arch Studio takes the time to understand your unique needs and preferences, crafting design solutions that align with your vision. Every detail is carefully considered, ensuring that the final result is a true reflection of your personality and style.

Maximizing Space: Whether you live in a cozy apartment or a spacious mansion, Arch Studio can optimize your space to make it functional and aesthetically pleasing. They have a knack for creating storage solutions, making the most of every square foot.

Color Palette and Mood: Arch Studio is renowned for its skillful use of color. They can help you select a color palette that sets the mood you desire, whether it's calming and serene, vibrant and energetic, or anything in between.

Custom Furniture and Decor: If you're looking for one-of-a-kind pieces, Arch Studio can design custom furniture and decor items that perfectly complement your home. These unique pieces become conversation starters and add a sense of exclusivity to your interior.

Timeless Design: One of the most significant advantages of working with Arch Studio is its ability to create interiors that stand the test of time. Their designs are not driven by fleeting trends but by principles of enduring style and elegance.

Case Study: A Transformative Home

Let's dive into a case study that illustrates Arch Studio's magic in action. This home transformation showcases their ability to create breathtaking and functional spaces.

Client: The Smiths

The Smiths, a young family of four, were looking to revamp their traditional suburban home into a more modern and open living space. They approached Arch Studio with a vision of creating a contemporary haven that would accommodate their growing family and provide a comfortable yet stylish environment for entertaining guests.

Arch Studio's Approach:

Open Concept Living: The team at Arch Studio started by removing walls that separated the kitchen, dining area, and living room. This created a seamless flow, allowing family members to interact more freely.

Contemporary Aesthetics: The design team introduced a contemporary design language, with clean lines, neutral color schemes, and the incorporation of natural light. Modern furniture and fixtures were carefully selected to complement the new look.

Family-Friendly Solutions: Recognizing the needs of the Smiths, Arch Studio incorporated child-friendly elements, such as hidden storage for toys, durable and easy-to-clean materials, and dedicated play areas.

Smart Home Integration: The home was equipped with a smart home automation system that allowed the Smiths to control lighting, temperature, and security with the touch of a button.

Results:

The transformed Smith residence now exudes a sense of space, light, and modernity. It accommodates the family's needs and provides an elegant backdrop for their everyday lives and social gatherings. The Smiths were delighted with the outcome, as their home became a true reflection of their lifestyle and personality.

Collaborating with Arch Studio

If you're eager to elevate your home's interior design with the expertise of Arch Studio, here's how to get started:

Initial Consultation: Begin with an initial consultation where you'll discuss your vision, preferences, and goals with Arch Studio's design team. This is the foundation upon which your project will be built.

Design Proposal: Arch Studio will provide you with a detailed design proposal, including a project timeline and estimated budget. They are committed to transparent communication and collaboration.

Design Development: As the design process progresses, you'll work closely with the team to finalize plans, choose materials, and define every detail. This is the stage where your vision takes shape.

Construction and Installation: Once the design is finalized, Arch Studio manages the construction and installation process, ensuring that the project is executed with precision and excellence.

Final Reveal: The moment you've been waiting for – the final reveal of your transformed space. Arch Studio takes pride in exceeding your expectations and delivering a living environment that truly inspires.

Conclusion

In the world of home interior design, Arch Studio is a name synonymous with creativity, innovation, and excellence. Their unique design philosophy, innovative concepts, and commitment to creating personalized, functional, and aesthetically pleasing spaces make them a top choice for homeowners seeking to elevate their living environments.

[floralmotif]

I'm not sure if you've written about this before, but I was curious as to how you think John regarded Sam and Dean when they were children. Who was his favorite? Who did he abuse more? Was Sam completely safe from John's abuse because of Dean? Who do you think he was more emotionally invested in? I guess what I'm mainly asking is how different were Sam and Dean's childhoods from each other?

Ah muffins, I had part of this written out and forgot to save it to drafts. Oh well, hopefully this will be more coherent than the last one anyway. Coffee, do the thing.

I did have a previous statement that sort of addressed this information a little https://floralmotif.tumblr.com/post/159194818777/sam-his-view-of-dean

The brother’s relationship is definitely interesting, especially concerning their dad. Ready to dive into the joyful land of content warnings and sadness?? Great!

Content warnings btdubs… child abuse and neglect…Talking about this topic isn’t easy because it is fairly complicated. I don’t really subscribe to painting things in black and white most of the time. My basic interpretation of John is that he did love his kids and he never intended to do them harm, but he did. Extensive.. cycling harm.. if they play “Will the circle be unbroken” by the end of the season, you’ll be able to detect my screaming by radar.

The sitch gets complicated further by the fact that Dean is heavily framed as Sam’s parent. Specifically his mother. He exhibits a lot of behavior that is associated with mothers of children who are abused by their spouse, trying to protect their child by being in the way and crafting a sort of reality for them to simulate something close to normal in their lives. He has also taken on the role of parent in that he was generally much more present for Sam growing up than John was. He wasn’t really allowed to have a childhood because of the way his life was set up by John. He was told by John to always put Sammy first and to protect him. Dean was basically a background entity for John. He existed to perpetuate Sam and his own feelings were neglected. When Sam and John didn’t get along, Dean was there to deflect the fighting. Dean’s support of Sam basically made him his first child. He was so smart, motivated and more aware of the initial situation. He eventually learned to want out because he was encouraged to think for himself. Dean was not taught this way, and when they went off to find their Dad again, they really “went to find him again”. Him and his influence. Sam lost his agency in that influence. Dean’s was already gone.

The song “Because of you” by Kelly Clarkson is a pretty accurate assessment of Dean’s takeaway from John, interestingly. There are piles of fan videos on youtube that point it out.. like this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtddeCGKl90

Hoo boy…

None of the above was Sam’s fault, obviously. He grew up in that situation already established and he had few outside influences even after he started seeking them out(hell, he has few consistent ones now). When he did find them, he was torn from them. Really, they all were. It’s one of the things that prevented Dean and Sam from really learning what “normal” was in a familial sense. They both grew up in situations that were often life or death, and in Dean’s case, he or Sam. He didn’t even really grow up with himself as an option. It was always for Sam.. and Sam growing up with Dean essentially being his parent, he would do the same for him.

No wonder they’re always sacrificing for each other. That’s what they learned from their respective “roles”.

Really, everything they do makes sense if you interpret them as parent and child in my opinion. But feel free to interpret them however you like. My interpretation feeds into the rest of my analysis though, so keep that in mind.

From what I’ve been able to glean from watching the show, Sam was definitely John’s favorite. In many ways, John treated Dean as though he was lesser. He basically treated Dean as an extension of himself and projected a lot of his nonsense onto him. His doubt about the world, his cynicism, his need to keep Sam safe, his self loathing.. and all that that implies… it’s framed at times that Dean suffered some physical abuse from John and Dean did everything he could to prevent the same thing happening to Sam even at his own expense.. Dark Side of the Moon is one of the instances where we’re shown how Dean’s crafted reality affected him and Sam separately. He crafted it so well, Sam didn’t even think about how his absence may have affected the dynamic. 

Dean tried to create a world for Sam where none of that stuff existed. It was his duty to protect Sam from everything: Monsters, John and his own feelings. Not even he saw the extent of it at the time. He only really seems to be starting to see it now.

This show does something brilliant(and at times painful) with its premise. It really didn’t have a choice in the matter if it wanted to be good, but it did it very well.

Rule of media monsters: Monsters represent aspects of humanity that we are afraid of and block out to other. Vampires, werewolves, witches, zombies, etc. They all connect to aspects of humanity and what about us we’re afraid of. What we don’t want to admit about our reality, what we don’t want to address because they scare us. Those aspects of the human experience that are stigmatized.

Sound familiar? Sound maybe like what Dean and Sam do with their feelings? It should.

Where did they learn that from?

Yep. John… well, Dean from John, and it sort of rolled over into Sam. All of the mantras Dean gave him in the early seasons are starting to come to light now. They’re being revealed as black and white, unsustainable, overly simplified and unhealthy. The co-dependency, the imbalance between humans and monsters, the “just world” idea that all monsters are inherently evil and must be destroyed, etc. All of those things are breaking down and at this point, Dean has noticed, but Sam hasn’t or he avoids them directly. Sam has resigned to these things as truth because not doing so would mean he had a choice before.

I think Sam really wants agency, he always has and it’s always been an important part of his character, but his life has told him to fear it. Both he and Dean grew up in and have experienced lives of limited agency. Sam especially had pretty much all of his ideals thrust upon him(on screen. Dean pretty much had them so early, we only see him learning them in flashbacks). He was told they were the only choices. He went to Standford and learned a new choice, but was pulled right back into the old mantras. Again, not really Dean’s fault. Dean was just operating on the “good soldier/mom role he had been given. He didn’t really have agency either.

Over time the two have learned more about agency, but only one has really been given the opportunity to explore it: Dean. That’s really what Cas is for him in a lot of ways. He’s a representation of “ideals” and his presence and connection to Dean kind of forces both of them to explore what that means. Sam doesn’t really get a direct outside force with a great connection that allows him to branch out.(this is probably on purpose at this point so they can have a counterpoint) His main connection to anything has been Dean, and Dean is still operating in the augmented reality he built to protect Sam even if he’s starting to breach it. Even as it’s breached, Sam is so deep in that reality, that he barely sees it. And Dean is understandably afraid to fully breach it. It has implications for Sam too. Implications Dean is probably afraid Sam would blame himself for.

This season is starting to address “Sam’s wall” and Dean’s ability to contain the version of himself that he had crafted is breaking down. Lucifer is a holdover of the “old” the looming ghost of John Winchester that darkens the lives of the Winchester’s and stagnates their relationship, stagnates the show.

Interestingly, the greatest influence besides Dean that Sam has had in years is his mother. She is a powerful representation of the old goals and truths of the show. A promise to get out and to silence the lambs. The one thing John said he wanted that has turned around and given him hope. Her coming back to life means that the ideal world that John dreamed of could be a reality, but just like the BMoLs, that ideal is badly informed, near sighted and unsustainable.

I’m guessing in the next few eps, the ideals of both Sam and Dean will start to merge to “a better way” and they can both learn to reconcile their past to embrace the future. To embrace those aspects of themselves they are afraid of and have tried to other.

[lessonsfrommadamexmas]

EREN JAEGER AND THE ENNEAGRAM TYPE 6

First of all, to my followers, please excuse me. This account isn’t for SNK but it’s the one I have and I wanted to write this. 

Secondly, I hope this post finds the fandom lol. But if you’re expecting this to be another meta to judge Eren’s actions, don’t waste your time. The enneagram is a tool of understanding, not judgement, and I just wanted to share one thing I appreciate immensely about Eren’s characterization.

Well, why don’t we start with chapter 137? There, Zeke states that life’s purpose is to propagate and it’s core fear is to be extinguished. In other words, from the moment we are born, our organisms need to survive. As humans, we are on our own: suddenly, you gotta breathe on your own; the food is no longer provided. Everything is scary. A baby cries because everything is hard and far away and something in their biology tells them to keep fighting to survive. 

Now, onto a more spiritual approach. In El Eneagrama de la Sociedad, Claudio Naranjo says that several cultures have their own ideas and tales regarding a disconnection from a primordial state of wholeness. Once born, we become individuals and are separated from the Universe, as if we’re no longer in sync, and something is lost in the process. How can we survive? Our defense mechanisms start with that question. We need love, we need resources and we need to stand our ground in this cruel, but beautiful world. This, on the enneagram, is called “childhood trauma”. 

What I want to do in this post is to break down Eren’s character development through the lens of the enneagram, but for that, I need to give you an overview of the system. It is cruel and beautiful, just like the SNK world. It sees us with care and understanding but it also exposes the harsh truths we don’t want to see. 

The enneagram, first and foremost, is an ancient symbol, a figure of nine points connected within a circle. There’s a lot of fascinating history to it, but I’m gonna focus on what matters to this post. The enneagram is a personality system that encompasses nine essences of the Universe, and once our childhood trauma sinks in, we attach to one type which defines our worldview. Here’s how each enneatype manifests itself:

Type 1, the reformer: this person seeks to not make mistakes. They are principled and meticulous in everything they do but highly critical of themselves and others. 

Type 2, the helper: this person seeks to be needed. They are proud of their independence and helpfulness but believe they can only receive love if they give first. 

Type 3, the achiever: this person seeks to be worthy. They are motivated and ambitious but shape themselves around what is expected of them. 

Type 4, the individualist: this person seeks to build their identity. They are sensitive and creative but reject the ordinary and focus on what is harder to reach. 

Type 5, the investigator: this person seeks to be a specialist. They are perceptive and curious but withhold themselves and their resources and worry they’re never prepared. 

Type 6, the loyalist: we’ll talk about it in a moment.  

Type 7, the enthusiast: this person seeks to avoid pain. They are joyful and spontaneous but afraid of facing hardships and being swallowed by negativity and sadness. 

Type 8, the leader: this person seeks to be strong. They are fierce and protective but don’t allow themselves any vulnerability and need to be on top. 

Type 9, the peacemaker: this person seeks to be in peace. They’re kind and their inner stability is unshakable, but have a hard time asserting themselves.

So what does it mean to be a type 6?

Some of you might not believe if I told you that Eren is moved by fear. But that’s what it is. The type 6 represents fear itself. It’s our search for safety and support. The person who is a type 6 has disconnected from their inner guide and they don’t believe they have the same capability to make decisions as everyone else. That is more of an unconscious state, which manifests through an overly alert stance. Sixes are always on the lookout for threats and danger, their minds work predicting things that can go wrong, so they can be prepared. In other words, the type 6 fears how imprevisible life is, because they truly don’t find in themselves the compass to the answers they need “in this very moment”. They have to be one step ahead and they have to find outside structures for support, people in whom to trust and who’ll give them the guidelines and sense of balance. Fellowship and loyalty are essential to the type 6 as they look for reassurance in their concerns. 

In Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (1996), Don Richard Riso has described nine levels of development for the enneatypes. They are the path from our healthy, healed state where we’re closer to wholeness again (Level 1) down to our most broken state where we’ve abandoned ourselves (Level 9). 

When we start Attack on Titan, Eren is on Level 6. Here’s what Riso says:

“In its innocent forms, counterphobia is well employed by people to master their fears — for example, children who are afraid of the dark might purposefully go to a dark room to overcome their fear.”

Eren, too, wanted to overcome his fear since he was a kid. He wanted to go outside and face those faceless titans. He wanted people around him to be prepared, but since the Garrison was incompetent and lazy, he needed to be prepared. Grisha seems to be Eren’s first authority figure. From what we know, Grisha allowed Eren to have his own thoughts and didn’t impose anything on him, which is a kind of reassurance. Thus, with his father, Eren felt more understood. 

Carla, on the other hand, wished for Eren’s immediate safety and cared about him living a quiet life. But that also means she couldn’t understand his concerns, and the type 6 interprets that demeanor as vulnerability — his mother is more exposed to the threat. If the type 6 is a room where nobody is vigilant, the only option they see is to step up and become hypervigilant.

This relation to an authority is very specific for the type 6 as they search for people and systems in whom to rely on. Since the Garrison aren’t the most reliable soldiers around, Eren turns to the Survey Corps. That section of the military consists of the rebels, those who want to explore the unknown, understand the titans and figure out the best way to fight the enemy. The SC wants to be free, so they become Eren’s next “authority figure”. 

Riso also says that the type 6 in Level 6 has a more aggressive stance and wants to prove to others that he isn’t indecisive and can’t be pushed around. 

“They blame and berate whatever threatens them. They become rebellious… and are desperate to latch onto a position or stance that will make them feel stronger and dispel their feelings of inferiority.”

The type 6 feels inferior because they feel lost inside. Eren, too, knows that the threat lurking behind those walls is much bigger than him and a single human doesn’t stand a chance. And he berates people around him for not seeing what he sees, or for disrespecting his “heroes”.

Eren will be back to Level 6 later, embodying other aspects of it, but let’s talk about the moment he joins the army. 

At this point, Eren reaches the stable position he has been eager for. He is part of a group and working towards his goals, he feels more confident because he’s preparing for the next attack. He has climbed to Level 4:

“The security which groups and institutions provide far exceeds the strength of any individual members...”

As we know, Eren sees his mission to eradicate all titans also as a social responsibility. The type 6 can easily fall into “us versus them” mentality where they are putting effort into something and will trust only the people who understand the importance of it. Eren’s bickering with Jean, as well as his admiration for Reiner starts from there. 

“And even within their own group, average Sixes make it their business to find out who is pulling the weight and who is not... If others are not loyal or committed, it not only makes them angry, it threatens them.”

Eren talks over and over about how he’s going to join the suicide squad, to the point people start making fun of him. But he is testing everyone’s commitment to the cause of “fighting titans” and he finds people like Jean, who only really want their safe life, as well as Reiner, who is dedicated and understands him immediately. Reiner becomes his new “authority figure”: whenever Eren’s failing, Reiner is there to understand him, to offer help and to remind him of why he’s there.

“The loyalty of average Sixes for the people with whom they have identified is almost without bounds. They find it extremely difficult to break their emotional bonds, even should they desire to do so… Their love may, in time, turn to hatred but never to indifference.”

That one speaks for itself. It’s exactly how Eren felt upon RBA’s betrayal. He’s in total denial about Annie, while for Reiner/Berthold all he has left is rage. 

Choosing who to trust is part of the type 6 identity. All of their beliefs, all their inner world is shaken if they are betrayed, because the network they build is how they find a safe space for themselves in the world and how they orient themselves. Annie was Eren’s parameter of fighter, Reiner was Eren’s parameter of leadership. The first backstab is too hard for him to process, we see it all unfold. He can’t admit she’s a traitor, and he doesn’t even have the will to transform and fight her. 

The second one, however, is embraced somewhat faster and he’s even able to contain himself and play along. But it doesn’t change how deeply it affected him and how vengeful he gets. Years later, that hatred would dissipate, but never to indifference — Eren still feels a need for some closure between them. 

I got ahead of myself on the timeline, so I’m going to rewind to the moment Eren joins the Survey Corps, which is his childhood dream. Erwin is his main authority figure now and you see that, even though Erwin locked him up, he trusts the guy. As Don Riso explains, the type 6 on Level 4 plays by the rules of his group because he strongly believes in those rules and they bring comfort to their minds. In reality, the SC doesn’t really know what they’re doing. Erwin himself doesn’t know how he’s gonna cross the walls and find out the truth. But Eren is devoted to them. Their cause is his cause and he knows how hard it is but what matters is they’re trying. Besides, they embrace him. They want to reach the basement and want to defend him on the court and want to investigate/use his titan power. Thus, for Eren, the SC is the most solid and welcoming place to be. He’ll do whatever they want from him. 

However, Eren was about to find out that things were far from glorious out there. Although the Survey Corps work under strict “plans” that soldiers are supposed to follow blindly, Eren can’t just watch people being sacrificed to protect him. Especially when he has enough power to act in a more significant way than those individual humans. But how much control does he have over his own power? Eren can’t answer that, and he feels immensely conflicted as soldiers continue to drop dead. 

In that moment, Levi could’ve forced him to follow his orders, and perhaps that would’ve eased his mind when he chose not to transform. But the captain is a different kind of leader than Erwin, and he challenges Eren instead:

And I really appreciate how fitting that is to the type 6 conflit. It’s very difficult for them to accept it, sometimes there simply isn’t a clear path, sometimes it is okay to trust yourself and act on your own. But this is what Eren’s thinking:

That didn’t turn out very well, did it? At the end of the expedition, Eren is forced to admit that the SC don’t have all the answers and that all his power and training can’t always keep everyone safe. He’s once again reminded of that after activating the Coordinate — not even the power to control titans can avoid sacrifices.

Ideally, the type 6 can only reach the safety they seek once they allow themselves to move in the chaos with the courage to face it step by step, instead of predicting it. This may sound easy for others but not for them, especially if they are inserted in a reality where the cost of a mistake is lives.  

So we get to the Uprising arc. It starts with the Survey Corps planning the retake of Wall Maria while they put Eren through hardening experiments. Time is not on their side and Eren’s determined to go beyond his limits during the tests. 

“They consequently try to further strengthen their ‘social security’ systems by working harder to be accepted and approved by their allies and authorities… Others wonder if they resent the workloads and pressures they seem to be under, yet Sixes seem eager to fulfill their obligations and duties...”

Eren’s entire world would fall apart again once he’s kidnapped by Rod Reiss and discovers the truth of his father’s sin. Like I said earlier, Grisha was one of Eren’s authority figures, and even though he was absent, the basement key and the promised truth kept son and father connected. Wherever Grisha was, Eren could still count on the answers he’d left behind. 

That is, until he is hit by a trainwreck of a revelation that his father killed an entire family and sacrificed himself to pass on the titans to him. Eren’s left completely lost, he no longer knows what to think of himself, of the world, of his father.

He falls from Level 4 to Level 7:

“Sixes become trapped in an unhealthy pattern of self-disparagement and massive insecurity which reinforces feelings of inferiority and worthlessness, a marked deterioration from the indecision and evasiveness we saw [before].”

This shift to a much more confused and self-loathing state doesn’t last long because Eren has his friend’s support for now. Historia chooses to see his worth and let him live. Levi once again challenges him to make his own decision, and Eren manages to save the day.

As Eren becomes aware of those destructive feelings, he tries to get rid of them by “fighting” himself, in an attempt to put himself back up.

He realizes he isn’t alone and he doesn’t have to do everything on his own, people around him are also strong enough to stand up for themselves. That helps him return to a more average stage and it could have been the beginning of his growth... 

Well, if only life wouldn’t have a surprise waiting for him at every corner. 

I hope you’re being able to follow and understand that we all have ups and downs in life. The levels of development represent exactly that, so it is common to find yourself in the same stage in different periods of your life. Nevertheless, after Eren learns the truth about the world and sees his future memories, it all goes downhill for him, no turning back anymore.  

Here is what Riso comments on the ambivalence of the type 6 on Level 5:

“Sixes begin to follow the narrow path between the expectations of their allies and authorities and their need to resist having any further demands placed on them.”

Eren is overwhelmed by the view of the outside world. He has experienced his father’s memories first hand and it’s nothing like what he expected. No one around him has the same perspective. A lot of self-awareness and self-doubt emerge from the future memories he saw through Historia. Riso explains that on Level 5 the person starts to become more worried about how their allies feel about them. 

“They become skeptical of new views and ideas, feeling that they have already put a lot of effort into understanding the perspectives and approaches they already know.”

Eren went from “I HATE TITANS ALL TITANS ARE MY ENEMIES DESTROY ‘EM ALL” to “titans are my people and they haven’t chosen this horrible outcome”. And that’s A LOT to process when you wrapped your life around that initial idea. But things are changing even faster, and his friends are talking about how the enemy could be reached out too. This thought needs to coexist in Eren with the clear image he has of the enemy, one that only he has accessed. Add to that how Eren was kept away from the Marleyan prisoners as Paradis also feared some kind of betrayal. As long as there’s people out there against them, he can’t so easily rest. 

Who knows at what point Eren returns to Level 6. The time skip is covered very loosely. But probably when he is feeling so lost that he actually comes to Historia to vent. 

“As in other types, to be functioning in this Level or lower usually indicates that there were extremely dysfunctional elements in the child’s environment.”

Self-explanatory. It’s even hard to talk about Level 6 because it is a point where Sixes start to overthink threats that aren’t that big, but in Eren’s case, the threat is 100% REAL and there’s a world isolating them and wishing for his people to die and throwing gigantic creatures at them. No big deal at all.

Eren turns to the people who actually understand the urgency he feels. Floch is eager to follow him, while Zeke and Yelena have an actual plan. Eren says he’s acting out of his own decisions, and he sure is, but he has also left it in Zeke’s hands to set the course. At this point, it no longer is a positive thing for the type 6 to have reassurance instead of a grounding support, it’ll only leave them trapped in the current mentality. 

What would be more appropriate would be a balance between rejection…

…and full acceptance.  

(By the way, I can’t even know where Historia stands, since she let him do his thing, but I’m still using her here because of how immediate her reaction was, which could lead Eren to think he can’t risk telling anyone else. Unhealthy Sixes are just that paranoid.)

Zeke could have been Eren’s new “authority figure“ if their goals were the same. But more and more the only thing Eren is starting to rely on are the future memories.

Riso talks about how a violent environment would lead to violent actions and “they end up using the same aggressive tactics on others”. And I can draw a parallel with how Eren has been facing titans for so long and watched them take people from him, that he just feels aggression arise whenever he thinks of all the injustice he has witnessed. Same would happen later on, when he sees Ymir’s memories and finally decides to unleash this pain on the world.

“It’s hard for Sixes to work for something. Instead, their energies are galvanized by being against people and things.”

Despite being highly conflicted and problematic, Eren so far has waited. It’s too hard at this point to fully engage with those dreams, but he has watched things unfold and allowed the Survey Corps to do their stuff and try to contact the outside world. On Level 7, the type 6 is just going through the day with little hope. When the SC reaches Marley and Eren meets the boy of his memories, he can no longer escape from facing himself.

“Tearful and obsequious, they are disgusted with themselves for not having been tough enough to stand on their own two feet, to defend themselves, to be independent.”

Not only Eren, but Paradis as a whole, have been unable to be independent in a much bigger world, or this is how he sees it after Kyiomi monopolizes the resources and the pro-Eldians group rejects the island. Finally, Eren recognizes in himself the person who would be capable of trampling the kid he currently wants to save, and that leaves him disgusted.   

“They do not necessarily deceive others maliciously, but to escape punishment or abandonment. They believe they may be able to repair the damage they have caused...”

What Riso is saying here is that the type 6 feel the need to hide (themselves) so their loved ones won’t abandon them. And again, in Eren’s case, he has a damn good reason to think his loved ones might not be super happy if he said he was going to destroy the whole world. Let’s not forget they are the people who counted on him to save the world this whole time, and he is the person several people have been sacrificed for. 

All this pressure has brought him this low, but Eren reaches rock bottom when he allows himself to admit he wished for it all to be destroyed. Now, he can no longer face his family (as he would tell Falco) and he has little faith in himself. 

Again, Eren’s paranoias aren’t so far from reality because there is, indeed, a world against them, and that keeps feeding into his anxiety. Paradis’s progress is little and the future is uncertain. When the type 6 reaches Level 9, they can no longer get out of this spiral. They know it’s only a matter of time until the threat comes to them. So they call the threat upon themselves.

Eren allowed himself to go as far as understanding his enemies and accepting that they’re the same, but with the declaration of war, he can’t wait anymore.

I already told you the reason: the type 6 needs to be able to predict. That’s the very core of their beings, their minds seek to control events. Striking first is their final attempt to make sure they won’t be taken by surprise. Ultimately, they are lost and desperate to find support again. Here’s what Riso says about the type 6 on Level 9:

“They may drop out, abasing themselves as vagrants and living in skid row conditions, thus allowing their health and minds to deteriorate to the point of no return.”

It almost feels like Isayama has read this book, I swear to God. Yeah, that’s word by word what Eren does. He goes to enemy territory, injures himself and throws himself in war. Despite resisting for so long to a new perspective of his enemies, Eren allows himself to see them with his own eyes. All because he’s desperate to understand his enemy, desperate to understand himself (and what would lead to his decision) and desperate to run away from his friends. He is ashamed of choosing those future memories as his new authority figure, get it? They are the most certain thing in his life now. As much as he waited and as much as the SC tried, they don’t have any guaranteed future and it’s just too hard for the type 6, especially unhealthy Sixes, to wait. It’s impossible. 

Remember I said that Sixes want to feel understood? Well, I think Eren feels understood, to some degree, when he’s among those broken soldiers. They are relatable, more than anyone else. 

“Neurotic Sixes bring disaster of some sort upon themselves not to end their relationship with authority figures, but to reestablish a protective one. [...] It is also important to notice that neurotic Sixes are masochist not because they take pleasure in suffering as such, but because they hope their suffering will bring someone to their side who’ll save them… as if to say, ‘Punish me, because I’ve been bad. Then you can love me again.’”

In the mind of the unhealthy type 6, if he can’t find the answers, he can’t be there for his allies. If he fails his allies, he doesn’t deserve their support. But even when he feels he doesn’t deserve it and feels they won’t forgive him, he desperately needs it — the type 6 doesn’t know how to live without support. He is completely aware of his cowardice, he may unleash his despair in innocent people, he seeks punishment for his behavior and hopes for someone to end his pain.

“Unhealthy Sixes are self-defeating persons who are their worst enemies. If they persist in their masochist behavior, neurotic Sixes will drive away everyone on whom they depend. They will be abandoned and alone, the very things they most fear.”

Eren pushed everyone away, but deep down he waited for them to come to his rescue. He knew he was a lost cause, but still couldn’t let go of what he saw as a compromise, a duty to them. His completely cruel and extreme actions are, in enneagram terms, his way to not leave his allies adrift. But aren’t all his actions for his own freedom? I don’t think so, not entirely. There’s a reason the type 6 has been named “the loyalist” — they always, always see themselves as part of a group. And in the end, he saw himself in Ymir, someone who was trapped and waiting to be rescued, understood. Don Riso says the worst part of coming this low is how much Sixes hurt others while they hurt themselves, both because they want to harm everyone who doesn’t understand and to show people the worst in themselves; they want to punish and be punished at same the time.

That is what I wanted to break down — Eren’s inner process. Yes, the type 6 is an ambivalent, contradicting personality type, precisely because that’s how they feel inside. Other enneagram types don’t escape from their own personal conflicts, that’s also important to point out. The enneagram does not define integrity, people capable of causing great harm exist in all types and no one from type 6 is fated to destroying the world — just in case that isn’t obvious. 

This post is heavy, I know. One of the things I love about SNK are the emotions it evokes and how human characters are. I’m so thankful to have followed Eren’s fascinating journey. He has never hit me as a one-dimensional character as some people claim. To me, Eren is not a chad, he’s not a monster, either. He’s just human. 

I’m thankful for this fandom as well. We’re a total mess but the monthly wait would’ve killed me without the crazy theories and the heated discussions.  

[backtothestart02]

The Football Star and the New Girl - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: I suck at titles lately...oh well. Enjoy this first chap! The story itself is based loosely on a dream I had. :)

...

Synopsis:  HS!AU - They were like ships passing in the night. Would they ever meet on the same page?

...

Chapter 1 -

Francine West walked down the hall and peeked into the open doorway of her daughter’s bedroom. She found her sitting on her bed, her things packed in multiple suitcases at her feet, but she herself – Iris West, 14 ¾ years old – did not look very excited to be leaving her home without her family. She was looking at a photo album. Tears were staining her cheeks.

Francine rested her head against the door frame as she watched her, her heart aching to heal the wounds she knew would only grow more with time.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, you know.”

Iris’ head whipped toward the sound, and she hastily shut the photo album and tossed it onto her bed, wiping her cheeks quickly after.

“Mom!”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t interrupting, was I?”

She walked into the room, and Iris scooted over a little so she could sit next to her on the bed.

“No, not at all. I’m glad you’re here.”

They shared a sweet look, then Iris leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. Francine held out her hand, and Iris intertwined her fingers in her mother’s grip.

“I still want to go,” she assured her.

“Yeah?”

She nodded against her shoulder.

“I need stability, mom. I can’t be moving around going from school to school every six months. I’m proud of dad, of course, and I love being with you all. I’ll miss you a lot, but…I want friends and the same school and a life.”

“A boyfriend?” Francine nudged her gently.

Iris rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Maybe…eventually. I’m only 14, Mom.”

Francine nudged her again.

“14 ¾.”

Iris laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. A boyfriend would be nice, once I get to know the guy for more than a couple months. But first, friends.”

“Friends are important too.”

Iris nestled into her mother’s embrace and sat in silence for a while.

“What about Wally? Is he going to be going to new schools every-”

“I’ve decided to attempt homeschooling.”

Iris lifted her head.

“You have?”

She nodded.

“He’s only 10, so the curriculum is simpler, and he’s pretty introverted, even around us, so Ruffly can suffice for his friend. At least for now.”

Francine pursed her lips. She did want real, live human friends for her son, as well as for her daughter. But for now their golden retriever seemed to be what got the most laughs out of young Wally West. She would hope that lasted at least through another school year.

“I’d take him with me if I could,” Iris said.

“You’d take both my children from me?” Francine asked, only half joking. “What am I supposed to do all day long without your brother to drive me crazy?”

Iris looked into her mother’s eyes and saw that they were watering.

“Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay, honey.”

She sighed and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s temple.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, losing your friends so often because we have to move. It’s the life of a military family, I’m afraid. I signed up for it when I agreed to marry the man, but you, my baby, were just born into it.”

She pulled back to look into her eyes.

“I want you to know though that if at any time the school isn’t working out for you, we’ll come get you in a heartbeat.”

Iris winced. She knew it wasn’t that simple. They were moving overseas to a new post. Iris would be staying here in the U.S. Even if the school was a bit of a move for her too. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to.

Still, she obliged her.

“Yeah, okay, mom.”

She smiled, but Francine knew better.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and interrupting their little moment came Joe West with little Wally West on his back. Joe was dressed in all camouflage wear, and Wally was giggling from bouncing up and down on his “horsie”. Ruffly was close at Joe’s heels.

“What is this here?” Joe asked, witnessing the tear streaks on his two ladies’ faces.

“Dad!” Iris sprung up.

She ran to him, and he slowly released Wally off his back, who promptly complained when his shoeless feet hit the floor.

Joe hugged his daughter tight, lifting her off her feet briefly and kissing the side of her face.

“Oh, baby girl, are you sure you want to go?”

Iris laughed when she was back on her feet again. She wiped away fresh tears.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just gonna miss you guys, but I need this. For me. Okay?”

He sighed and nodded, then looked across the room at his wife.

“She’s so grown-up.”

“I know.” Francine sniffled.

“Why is everyone crying in here?” Wally asked. “Aren’t we gonna see her for Christmas?”

Everyone laughed.

“Aren’t you gonna miss me at all, you little punk?” Iris asked, ruffling his curly hair.

“Eh, maybe a little.” He shrugged, uncaringly.

Iris rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s time to get going then, yeah?” She looked at her parents who nodded.

“Yeah,” Joe said. “That seven-hour drive is no joke.”

“Seven hours! That’s a lifetime!” Wally whined.

Ruffly barked.

“Just wait till your plane ride,” Iris egged him on. “That might be even longer.”

Wally groaned. “I hate traveling!”

“Better make sure you have something to keep you occupied with then, Walls,” Joe said, and with that Wally zipped out of Iris’ room to make sure his many bags included plenty of toys to play with on his very long journey.

“I’ll go help him,” Francine said. “We’ll meet you at the door with his things.”

“Sounds good.”

Joe smiled, but it was pained. Once Francine had left, all the toughness had melted away again, as it often did with his baby girl.

“Boy, am I gonna miss you,” he said.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Dad.” Another tear streamed down her cheek, and he was quick to wipe it away. “You look so handsome in your uniform, Dad.”

He chuckled.

“Alright, enough sadness for now. We can do this again in seven hours.”

She laughed. “Okay.”

“You wanna help me get all a million and one suitcases out to the car?”

She took a step back and looked around her room.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“You can apologize by helping me.”

“Deal.”

She smiled, and slowly they made their way to the front door and then the driveway with all seven of her suitcases. It took a few trips, but then she knew she would need every bit of her belongings for the long school years that lay ahead.

Her family would visit as often as they could, of course, but it would be difficult with them living overseas. She probably wouldn’t see them again until her dad was forced to move again like they were doing now.

But she’d thought long and hard   this. She longed for friendships that lasted, for a life beyond what was available to a military family. She needed to connect and to be free for a while, even at the sacrifice of not seeing her family every day, especially her mom and baby brother. This new school – Huntington Farm and Boarding School – would be just the ticket.

Out in the middle of nowhere somewhere down south, the school was on a huge stretch of lush land that also served as a farm – no animals, just crops, which was a shame, Iris thought. She’d miss having even just her dog around too.

But the place was renowned for its academics and social scene there in the middle of the wilderness. A boarding school for those who needed it, traveling families mostly; and if the colorful flyer they’d sent in the mail was any indication, Iris would absolutely love it.

“Everybody ready?” Joe asked, when everyone had piled into the car sometime later.

“Ready!” the family cheered.

Joe chuckled and started the car.

“Huntington Farm and Boarding School, here we come. Watch out for your most dazzling student yet.”

He met Iris’ eyes in the rearview mirror, and they sparkled.

“You know it!” Iris said.

Joe grinned and backed out of the driveway.

They were all on their way to bigger adventures now.

…

One year later…

Iris sat on top of the fence on the edge of the football field, waiting for who she hoped she hadn’t misinterpreted wrong. After nearly a year of first claiming he didn’t like her and then months of mixed signals, Iris was convinced he actually did like her, as much as she liked him.

Sitting on the fence post waiting for the guy to come kiss her seemed like an odd tradition, but it was built into the social aspect of the school, and she figured it was the only guaranteed way she’d know if he was really crushing or not.

She’d dressed as cute as she could for a game, and soon she’d know if it would pay off or not.

Biting her bottom lip, she gasped quietly when she saw him coming around the corner heading right towards where she had herself perched.

Barry Allen was the star football player – star of every sport he could get himself into really – and they’d been making genuine eyes at each other for weeks. Now, as he approached her, it felt as if their whole future was hanging in the balance.

He stopped about 20 feet away. Bracing himself maybe for the decision he’d have to make? Presumably have gained the courage, he continued his walk, headed straight for her and stopped directly in front of her.

Iris waited, her heart hammering a mile a minute in her chest. He was tall enough to reach her – so tall, but she bent her head anyway, and sure enough their lips met in a soft, tender kiss.

She opened her eyes as he took a step back, but the smile on his face was undeniable. So was hers.

Just as he was about to say something truly romantic – she’d decided – one of his teammates burst behind them.

“Did you just kiss Iris West?”

Barry spun around, panic on his features.

“I-”

Another teammate appeared.

“Wait, what?”

“Barry just kissed Iris!”

“But I thought he hated her. He swore he did.”

Iris tensed on the top of the fence, waiting for Barry to smooth the whole thing over. It couldn’t be that big of a deal that he’d pretended to hate her all while flirting with her on the downlow for nearly a year…could it? It was annoying to her for sure, but his teammates couldn’t be that annoyed, could they?

Barry never smoothed it over.

His teammates left, looking disgusted, and Barry looked back at Iris for one more moment, not knowing what to do. Then he left, calling after them.

“Wait, guys, it’s not what it looks like!”

And Iris sat alone on top of the fence, the magical memory of her first kiss completely shattered.

How would they come back from this?

[dramaticbackstory]

I knew watching the end of Adventure Time would be emotional, but like.... here I am!!

I got behind on the seasons while I was in college because I didn’t have cable. Now, on the last day of student teaching, I am ending this show I started watching when I was barely even a kid.

When you go back to those first episodes or glimpse snippets of goofy episodes, you wouldn’t expect it to be such an astonishing epic of animation, such a profound work of storytelling.

Maybe it’s the nostalgia, but I am so impressed by the complexity of the last season: wrapping up so many plots and character arcs, concluding multiple gargantuan themes, yet still remaining immense, provocative, and a kid’s show.

To be about life and living... loving, life, and protecting love... to be about the balance between rejection and embrace...

I love that the final episodes let the characters say, “I’ve grown.” Watching each character be so overt and react to their own development, I realized that I could be more self-congratulatory; I should record and celebrate moments when I realize I’ve changed for the better, grown into myself, developed a real skill, or managed my mental health.

The characters of Adventure Time make an example of their heroic journeys, showing that change is active and challenging and not always pretty or correct. Change takes failing and trying again, many false starts, and breaking a few hearts.

As he sets out for diplomacy between the candy kingdoms, Finn comments on the irony that he, who has always been on the offensive, is out to make a pacific plea for peace. Rather than laughing it off as irony, Finn recognizes that this is character growth. This brief, pause-for-effect realization is at once a comic relief and marker of progress in the show. Finn is older and not only demonstrating maturity, but cognizant of its source.

When it turns out that his decision was a mistake, the character growth is not lost. The series chooses to double down and dig deeper at what it really means to choose peace over chaos and peace over war. It acknowledges the role of the body and mind—the human sacrifice involved in achieving peace. Betty’s failure to grow is a character causes chaos to reign and it is only when she accepts her loss that order is restored.

In its finale, Adventure Time frames its narrative from the distant future not only to create tension and raise the stakes, but to emphasize that what endures is deliberate.

In the story BMO tells, the emphasis is not on who lost or who won, who died or who survived, but who changed. The young heroes ask what happened to Finn and Princess Bubblegum after the war ended—when was the end of the world? They want to know how the story “ended.” But BMO tells them, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, “Eh, you know. They kept living their lives.” Immediately, I was struck with a phantasm of Finn’s future, of PB & Marcie, Jake and his kids, Simon and so on—and all of it the past, too, and so wonderful to be at peace. The show does not tie itself into knots to prove it is wrapped up or to prove it is serious; they are confident in the development of their characters. Or rather, the characters are confident in their development. The viewer can see that, so they can go on and keep living their life, too.

I think my point is that, at first, I chuckled at how overt AT was to have its heroes state their character growth out loud. It seemed so elementary, right? And yet, it wasn’t until this very year that I understood how to enact change in my own life. I still can be afraid to come across as contradictory or to lose some important aspect of myself; I still learn a lesson and make the same mistakes. Growth is transformative, it takes sacrifice, and it is not often simple or obvious. People must change or make change, try to change, and struggle to change. Would that we were remembered, it‘s the real marker of having lived.

[valkyriewarriors]

|Goddess of the Hearth| VII

prev chap | masterlist

word count: 2.6k

warnings: some intense violence

Cassian's heart pounded as he lied awake in bed. Whenever he closed his eyes, he remembered how soft her lips felt, even in those swift seconds. Or how the pull between them was so strong that he didn’t know how to break it. He didn't want to break it, he wanted to capture her lips, caress her cheeks, press every inch of her into him. Feel her, breathe her. Gods. He was in so deep. 

He’s been with numerous women over the years. But none have captured him like Nesta. She was a blinding ray of light through a thunderstorm.

Nesta, her name is Nesta. 

He wanted to say her name a thousand times until it drove him mad and he was sure it would.

Cassian closed his eyes, desperately trying to let sleep overcome him.

The first thing he noticed was the bone-chilling cold that seeped through his skin. He recognized this feeling, only having felt this stinging cold during the Germanic campaigns. The northern tribes drove them into the treacherous forests with mountains touching the heavens surrounding them.

But he was not in the mountains. Looking around at the empty streets, the empty vendor stalls, a loud wind sweeping through the empty buildings all clustered together. No, he was in Rome. 

The silence was deafening as he walked through the moonlit bare streets. No one was seen. Just the cold making him shiver with every step. His breath was visible with every shaky exhale.

This was wrong. Rome was the center of everything-- all roads lead here. But now it was silent, like something wiped out the city in its peak. His feet, he realized, crunched above a thin layer of snow on the ground. 

He spent the next ten minutes searching around the empty city. Nothing. Not a living thing was to be seen. 

But somehow he knew where to go like something was pulling him into its direction. 

Vesta's Temple, except in all the years he’s seen it, there was no sound of flickering flames. The circular building almost glittered like silver under the moon. Dolomite columns wrapped around, towering above Cassian as he stepped closer. 

He descended carefully into the temple, before long he could hear faint footsteps. "Is anyone here?" His voice echoed throughout the halls. When he turned back to the rounded pavilion, there stood a cloaked figure. 

“Hello?” He questioned but the cloaked figure didn’t budge. Cassian cautiously walked closer, feeling a familiar pull in the direction. It was almost as if his feet were levitating towards the figure. And when Cassian was right behind them, he knew who would turn around.

But this wasn’t Nesta. 

In all physical appearance, it would be Nesta but her eyes were glowing deep purple like an ancient flame waiting to burst from within. And when it spoke it was not the soft melody he knew, it was full of sad anger.

Look what he has done. Cassian felt a deep shiver run down his spine as she spoke. Don’t let him take her. He will use her. The fall of Rome is his doing along with the fall of the gods.

"What? I don’t understand..." There was a shift in the atmosphere. The cold was now a growing fire within his skin. 

Don’t be afraid of her strength-- it is not fire it is her warmth. Embrace it warrior, for she will rise anew in flames of gold. It’s time for a new era. 

With that, she vanished in an intense flame, and Cassian awoke.

—

Nesta watched from her carriage as Rhysand and Helion exchanged pleasant goodbyes. Or what she thought were pleasant goodbyes. Helion, the ever playful and seductive host, was tense, his posture rigid. Rhysand didn't look any better. She watched as Helion's eyes drifted to her once again like he was studying her more than just a future bride. Nesta realized he was trying to see what the Emperor wanted to see in her. She wanted to tell him nothing lurked inside her except maybe a calm rage and very confusing thoughts. He looked back at Rhysand and nodded tersely before walking away. 

She didn’t question what Rhysand spoke to Helion about. Though if it included her she supposed she should

But she was distracted as Cassian came into her view. Memories of last night replayed in her mind endlessly throughout her dreams. In some cases, they were never interrupted and she got lost in the way his hands explored her in every way. 

He turned to face her through her glass windows. She swallowed, eyeing his hesitant step towards her. 

She wouldn’t know what to say to him, about her confessing her name to him. It’s rare for anyone outside the Temple to know a priestess’ name. It is one of their bindings to their true selves, a reminder that they are human. 

As if on queue, she could picture the head priestess standing before her now. Her fiery auburn hair blocked from the sun in her white veil. Nesta was momentarily taken back to when they were walking to the Vestas’s temple in Rome from gathering herbs from a nearby garden. On each side of them, stood 2 Roman guards. 

She never got to walk through the streets of Rome, usually, it was veiled to her as she was carried in on a litter. From the corner of her eye she could see the head priestess’ nose scrunch up in disgust as they walked through town.  

Nesta took in the kaleidoscope of colors from the different fruits and vegetables on the vendor stalls. The streets of Rome is a lively place, and Nesta hasn’t heard this much laughter since she was small. Children playing along in the streets, racing each other through the markets. Women chatter among themselves as they eye the various offerings. Merchants and vendors calling out their specialties of the day.

It wasn’t until Nesta felt a brush on her shoulder where time stood still. In a moment the cold hands of the head priestess seized her, pulling her tightly close as she watched the guards slam into a middle-aged man. Their hands holding his face to the ground. All sounds in the street died as they looked towards the scene.

“How dare you touch a priestess so freely.” She heard the head priestess' deadly tone from behind her. 

The man had pure fear in his eyes, they were darting between the guards and her. “Please it was a misunderstanding I was just offering her-“

The head priestess spat in his face. “You can offer nothing to her. Guards give him 20 lashings.”

Nesta gasped and jerked out of the head priestess’ grasp. “No please, he didn’t mean it.” She pleaded but the head priestess ignored her and only nodded to the guards who raised their whips. 

When Nesta ran to intercept, she was jerked back and her face raised towards the head priestess in a tight grip. 

“You are to be pure in all aspects. Untouched, unspoken, unreachable by the commoners. You may all have the same blood but, my dear, you will never be like them.” Her words resonated through Nesta, blocking out the sounds of the man crying out in pain. 

Her memory faded as she watched Rhysand interject Cassian, saying something to steer him away from her. Nesta fought the dejected feeling at the bottom of her stomach and gathered her senses before Rhysand climbed into the carriage.

-

The ride with Rhysand was a little uncomfortable. She noticed that he stared at her, studying her eyes like he knew her from somewhere. But Nesta has never seen this man since before that day on the beach. When she turned her head away from the window to catch him, he swiftly looked away.

 “Is something wrong optione?” She asked, slightly starling him.  

He cleared his throat  “No priestess,  I just thought... uh never mind.”  She raised her eyebrows, surprised Rhysand stuttered.

“Do I remind you of someone?” 

She could see Rhysand visibly swallow and he only nodded. Whoever she reminded him of left swirling emotions in his eyes, anger but mostly sadness. She didn’t press on about it.

The day dragged on as the roads led into dense forests. The blurring greens of her window seemed to repeat itself. 

All of a sudden there was a jolt in the carriage, Rhysand looked tenser than before. He knocked on the carriage and a subsequent tapping from the other side must’ve meant Cassian was fine, we’re fine.

But then the carriage slowed down, Nesta tried to look ahead through her window and her eyes widening at the sight of another carriage, abandoned with visible blood stains from the outside. Rhysand saw the same thing and pounded against the carriage, almost yelling, “Cassian! Go, now!” But there was intense shuffling from outside, and Nesta heard the unsheathing of Cassian's sword.

“Priestess we have to get down now,” Rhysand said in a firm tone. Nesta caught a glimpse of Cassian being thrown on the ground outside but he quickly got up, blocking her window from the outside. Her shoulders were gripped by Rhysand from behind before being pulled to the floor, covering her mouth with a finger to his mouth. Shhh. 

“Five against one? That’s hardly fair…” Cassian said smugly. Nesta’s breath hitched, he must be surrounded and trapped. When Rhysand saw her panicked face he only mouthed, He can handle this.

“Where’s the priestess?” One of the voices said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m delivering wine.”

“The Lord of Bloodshed is transporting wine in a senatorial carruca?” Another voice sneered, “we’re not fools you bastard.” He spat out the last word, she even saw Rhysand visibly tense.

“It’s very special wine.” Cassian retorted, Nesta could hear his tone shift. “Now I can let you go or you can stay to see how sharp my sword is.” He said sternly. She imagined they were circling him now. 

Her heart was racing, she desperately wanted to look out but Rhysand would probably tackle her. He unlocked the doors on the other side and carefully opened it, gesturing towards it and reached out for her. She ignored it. Go help him she mouthed. His lips turned to a firm line. 

However, a hooded figure appeared behind him, sword drawn already in the air for a blow to the optione. Rhysand sensed them before they could strike and with the quickest reflex, clashed against the figure with a distinct clink. He stood and pushed the hooded figure back with his sword who fell right onto his back. 

This time he didn’t wait for Nesta’s permission as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the carriage. 

“The priestess! He has her!” The man yelled. 

Rhysand tried to drag her to the cover of the forest but a dozen men shrouded in dark clothing surrounded them. He shielded her with his sword drawn out, trying to swat away anyone who came near them. “Don’t you dare come closer.” He said through gritted teeth.

But he failed to grab her quickly enough before a pair of rough hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her away. Rhysand tried to get to her but the other men enclosed him like a pack of wolves. 

The arm tightened around her waist, locking her arms and another around her shoulders. His greasy voice sent a shiver down her spine, “Stop squirming girl, or I’ll be forced to violate my contract.” Contract? And then Nesta watched how the men moved, how particular their swords were made of iron and bronze. These were more than petty thieves…

“You’ll be cursed for harming an unarmed Priestess.” She sneered over her shoulder catching the horrible glint in the man’s eye. 

Rhysand tried to fend off the men, swirling about clashing with the swords but she was helpless as she watched one of them slashed across his thigh. His face retorted slightly with pain but he didn’t cry out. He grunted and pushed through the strings of attack.

“Stop it!” She screamed over her shoulder, but the man only smiled in delight as Rhysand struggled hopelessly outnumbered, Cassian nowhere in sight. Her blood started to boil, all her senses were heightened. Her heart was racing like thousands of horses on a battlefield. Without thinking, she swiftly knocked her head back where it made contact with the man who yelled out, “Bitch!” the arm around her waist loosened. She gained control of her arms again and tried to yank his other arm from around her shoulder. Her vision was blurring, but all she could focus on was the color of blood. The merchant crying out in pain, the screams in her visions, her dreams. 

Nesta gripped the forearms of the man until he gasped and yelled. “Agh!” The man behind her screamed, pushing her on the ground before he stumbled back. 

Then she felt Cassian before she saw him, moving like the wind right past her. A quick movement of his sword and Nesta knew the man was dead when he hit the ground beside her, his eyes lifeless.

Cassian knelt in front of her and she could see the blood that stained his armor. She knew it wasn’t his. His eyes blazed fire but it withered when he caught sight of her. Nesta was filled instantly with warmth and her heart calming itself. He reached out to see if she was wounded but she held out a hand to stop him.

“I’m fine. Go help Rhysand.”  She whispered, her skin still felt hot.

“I already did.” He said lowly, and Nesta looked over her shoulder to see all the men slumped, dead. It must have been a dozen men... when did he-

Rhysand limped towards them. And came to a sudden stop when he looked at the man who held her captive. 

“How did that happen?” 

Cassian was looking at Nesta and she realized he never stopped looking at her. Something else flickered in his gaze. But he responded, “I don’t know.” 

Nesta realized they weren’t talking about the attack but the man lying dead beside her. She looked at his corpse and gasped. His arms were the color of dark ash, the upper portions pink as his raw flesh was exposed. 

“We have to leave quickly,” Rhysand said not taking his eyes off the corpse. Nesta sat on the ground in shock and continued to stare at the man.

“They cut the horses loose,” Cassian said and probably gestured towards the horseless carriage. “We’re stranded.” 

“We need to get moving before they send any more assassins.”

Assassins. Nesta let the word sink into her head. “They didn’t want to hurt me.” She said, catching the attention of Cassian and Rhysand.

“What do you mean priestess?” Cassian asked, his tone was so soft. He didn’t call her Nesta. Rhysand was here but it still felt unnatural to hear from his lips.

“This man,” Nesta looked at the dark arms so charred, “he said he couldn’t hurt me because of his contract.”

Cassian's jaw tightened and he looked over to Rhysand. “We’re in Capua, do you think-“

“Yes the cottage is nearby, but we can’t stay there for long.” Rhysand grunted as he tried to move a bit. “It’ll be a good place to rest and make sense of…” he trailed off looking at Nesta still in shock.

“Right. Let’s go.” Cassian said rising from the floor when he offered a hand to her she refused and stood on shaky legs.

—-

Rhysand didn’t know what to think. The man's arms were almost charred black with distinct handprints on either side of his arms. When Rhysand touched his skin it was still burning as if he was dwindling tinder in a fire. He watched as the priestess walked ahead of him through the forests and only had one chilling thought.

The prophecy was true.

a/n: sorry for a nearly two month wait for this i-

[barreragraham90]

Reiki Master Level 3 Top Tricks

Only after I had such a blessing and thoughts that were arising in my second site.By removing these imbalances from the mind.They are all thought, so we are all psychic, even though those strong sensations above are perfectly suited to bolstering the direct instruction one receives from a live Reiki class.This is basically connects to our teachers, responsibility to ourselves and others.

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Reiki Level 9

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Reiki For Root Chakra

Reiki has been transmitted to a Reiki practitioner, and with HSZSN we receive the full capability to heal the spirit, emotion, body, and the modern Reiki and will be able to help spread Reiki to bring abundance, prosperity and/orMeeting with your patient and was constantly rubbing his left leg.Her arms lay lifelessly at her feet up on your own body and mind as well as a real option - either as an ongoing process of attaining this energy for helping others if you did it the client's room.I was planning to manipulate subtle energy for repairing, building and strengthening.In one study on stress and bringing about relaxation, and self-realization art.

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[alphawave-writes]

Sigrold week 2019 Prompt 1) Beginnings/Universe

Read it here or find it on ao3. You can support me by asking about my commissions or buying me a ko-fi

-

It begins with a touch. Just a simple stroke of the fingers on the back of his hand. It’s accidental, not on purpose, or at least that’s what Siebren tells himself when he glances up the wrist, arm, shoulder, and finally face of Dr. Harold Winston. It’s the last one that draws his attention. Siebren does not pretend to understand the finer points of human emotion, but even if he hypothetically could, there was no way he could truly interpret the expression Harold gives him at this moment. It’s multi-faceted, prismatic, utterly indescribable and gorgeous all the same time. But like a black hole, he wants to know how it forms, what causes its formation, why it appears to him now, when they’re all alone in the Commissary.

“Sorry,” Harold says as he takes the seat opposite Siebren.

“I-It’s fine,” he gruffly responds.

There’s a few seconds of silence where there’s nothing to be heard but the hoots of the gorillas in the distance and the whirr of the vending machines. Siebren takes off his gloves and folds them neatly together before pocketing them.

Harold stares at his hands, his eyes widening microscopically. His own hands fidget in front of him, clenching and unclenching. Another curious reaction.

“Did I ever tell you I learned palm reading?” Harold asks.

Siebren can’t help but chuckle. “Which stereotype are you living up to now? The American one, or the Chinese one?”

“Hey, I never said I believed in it, or that I’m any good at it. Just that I know a bit of it.”

“That was far from what I was suggesting. The universe is so vast and mysterious that I would not be surprised if there is an inkling of truth to it. However unlikely that may be.”

“Just give me your hand, big guy.”

Siebren does, and regrets almost instantaneously. Harold’s hands are surprisingly soft to the touch, and the caress of his fingertips sends shivers down his spine. His cheeks redden, his breathing becomes unsteady, and the universe begins to fade away.

Siebren feels a lot of things for Harold Winston. Admiration, for one. Companionship is another. It’s so rare that he finds someone he can consider his intellectual equal. But what he feels right now in this moment is something else entirely. It’s gentle and warm, not unlike the slide of Harold’s thumb over his life line, then his head line, and finally his heart line. Heat blossoms from Harold’s touch, traveling up Siebren’s arm only to dissipate within his chest.

Harold hums quietly, biting his lip in thought. Was it just his imagination or did Harold’s lips seem more kissable today? “So,” Siebren cleared his throat in the vain hope his thoughts didn’t transfer to his voice, “w-what does it all mean?”

“Well, if I remember this correctly, your life line says that you will be mostly healthy, although you might get into a serious accident later in your life. Same with your head line. Which probably means it might be the same accident that will affect your body and your mind somehow.”

“That’s a little morbid,” Siebren frowns.

“It’s a little better here. Your heart line says you’re rather passive in your love life, but you are willing to sacrifice a lot for love. That being said, you are more career-centered,” Harold suddenly smiles. “I’ve got the same line myself on my hand.”

“I wouldn’t know if I’d call myself passive.”

“You’re in a relationship?” Harold asks.

Siebren shakes his head. “Single, I’m afraid, and have been for a long time. If I must be honest, I have yet to be in a relationship one would call ‘steady’.”

“So I was correct,” Harold grins.

“Probably,” Siebren can’t help but smile. “Although I’m not sure about the sacrifice thing.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet. I did your right hand after all. Right hand is supposed to show you what your future holds.” Quieter, Harold says, “Perhaps you might find a love worth sacrificing for.”

Siebren stares into Harold’s chocolate eyes. There’s something to his words, something hidden beneath the layers that he does not recognize but that he wants regardless. He wants to decipher it, wants to know what it means, wants to hold Harold in his arms and press his lips against that incessant stubble and be one with the universe.

The thought startles him, not because of its suddenness but because it feels like a natural progression of events. Despite his experiences, this fluttering in his throat feels normal, and necessary. His eyes trail down to Harold’s long chin and bare forearms and firm hands, ordinary things that seem extraordinary in the context that is Harold. They’re soft to look at but they’re deceptively strong, hardened over time. A fitting metaphor for the man it belongs to.

Harold suddenly smiles. “What is it?”

Siebren tries his hardest not to smile too widely. “Could you teach me?”

“Sure,” he says. He offers his own hands to Siebren.

As Siebren caresses Harold’s palm tenderly, Harold patiently teaching him the basics of palmistry, the heat settles comfortably in Siebren’s stomach, making him feel like he is being embraced by the universe itself. Harold is the one to bring this feeling to the surface, this strange but wonderful sensation that Siebren wishes to last forever.

It’s the first time he feels this way, but it won’t be the last. Not by a long shot.

It begins with a sound. Not a normal sound, but not a frightening sound. Harold is walking along the hallway when he hears Siebren chatting to some of the cleaning staff, who are hanging off his every word. Siebren has an uncanny knack for being profoundly poetic about space and the universe. Not many of the astronauts appreciate it, possibly because of their extended stay on the moon, which might be why his captive audience—who usually only have brief stints on Horizon—are so utterly enraptured. Even Harold himself is not immune, pausing in his step so he can get drawn into the story.

He hears it again, and Harold understands what that sound is. It’s a laugh, almost a cackle. Excited, brash, abrasive. In another context it might have sounded cruel or mean, but here in the company of others, it sounds…pleasant. Very pleasant, in fact. So pleasant that Harold gets the strange urge to pull that sound from Siebren’s lips and make him laugh again.

Siebren turns to Harold and gives one of his rare smiles. It’s soft, smoothing out the harsh lines of his face. Uncharacteristic but it suits him beautifully.

Harold smiles. “Telling them about the magnificent universe?”

“The universe is magnificent. Those who think otherwise are fools with narrow minds.”

“Compared to wide minds.” Harold points at Siebren’s large forehead.

Siebren puts a hand on his forehead and rolls his eyes, continuing his story. He continues his conversation about moon dust, and the mysteries of gravity, and the many subtle ways he has manipulated it to suit the Horizon One lunar base. It might sound like boasting, but there is genuine interest and heart in his words.

Harold lets the meaning of the words drown out, focusing instead on the sound of Siebren’s voice. Siebren is a passionate man, but there’s something almost romantic about the way he talks right now, like he is speaking of a lover that’s in another country and not of the mysteries of the universe. He speaks in hushed, low tones, teasing out every sentence, a heavenly song from mortal lips.

Harold knows Siebren can be passionate, but it hasn’t truly computed until now just how passionate. He loves every aspect of his work, and he wants the world to know that he loves his work. There’s a sparkle in his ocean blue eyes and it reflects the beauty of everything around him. For a brief moment, Harold wishes Siebren will look at him like that, like he is the centre of the universe, the answer to his question, the thing Siebren wants.

He blinks, and the cleaning staff are gone. Siebren’s stopped talking, his lips pulled into a knowing smirk.

“Earth to Dr. Winston. Or should I say, moon to Dr. Winston?”

Harold shakes his head quickly. “S-sorry. Just spaced out there.” With a grin, he adds, “in more ways than one.”

Siebren’s grin gets wider. “I always knew you were out of this world.”

“I’m over the moon that you think I am.”

There’s a few seconds where Siebren’s face scrunches up and his lips thin before he bursts into laughter. The sound is melodic, melodic. Utterly enrapturing.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“It’s fine. You just didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.”

“That is a good one,” Siebren chuckles. “I am stealing that one for my own use.”

“Didn’t your mother tell you that stealing is bad?” Harold teases.

“I don’t think mijn moeder can do anything about it. We are on the moon.”

Harold giggles quietly as his body feels weightless. He’s taken away from gravity, pulled into the orbit of Siebren’s dazzling stare. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this way, and usually it scares him, because every time he’s the first one to feel it. All his past relationships failed because they did not feel the same. Perhaps it’s ironic and sad that he should feel this way, up in the stars, away from everyone. But Siebren is no ordinary man. His eyes reflect the beauty around him, and in that moment, Harold’s reflection never looked so sublime. For once, Harold feels safe and secure, like Siebren will take care of him regardless of whether his feelings are returned or not.

It's the first time he feels this way for Siebren, but it won't be the last.

It begins with a kiss. Soft, desperate, eager. Objectively, it’s not all that good—Harold's stubble roughly grazing over Siebren's chin, the tentativeness to move their lips—but it’s the emotions that make their kiss so beautiful. In this moment they are but a singular entity, their kiss catalysing a chemical reaction that merges their bodies into a new, wonderful substance. Their wordless thoughts combine together, a swirling vortex of love and want and need and fear and worry.

When their lips part, they both let out a soft breath, blooming galaxies into formation. The world has disappeared. The Earth and the Moon and the stars and the Sun are nothing. All that exists in their universe is Harold and Siebren and the space between them.

“Harold,” Siebren whispers.

“I love you,” Harold says, even though they both know it is absolutely unnecessary. Siebren knows Harold loves him, just as Harold knows Siebren loves him.

Siebren holds Harold's cheeks tenderly. "I love you too. Does that mean...?"

"I want to be with you," Harold whispers. His fingers card into Siebren's scalp, making Siebren shiver in content. "I want us to be together."

"Then why don't we? We can be together. Just the two of us."

Harold leans forward and kisses Siebren again, taking them both back to that black void. With their caresses they recreate the stars, the asteroids, the galaxies, and the planets. With their affection they breathe life to Earth. With their sighs the universe expands and grows organically, chaotically, exactly as it should be. Earth glows, crystal blue waters amongst soft green trees and swirling white clouds, highlighting the contours of their faces.

With their kisses, they have created a new world, a new beginning, a new stage in their relationship. From now until eternity, they shall be one.

[catgirlxox]

Exploring Ben 10′s Reality

I feel like, sometimes, some things are so obvious that they’re overlooked.

Do you realize that the Omnitrix wasn't even created to be a weapon, or rather a tool to use in battle?

It is simply a device which contains the DNA of a large quantity of different alien species, each which happen to have their own naturally occurring special abilities, which can then also transform the one who wields it into any of those alien species. 

According to Ultimate Alien's "Solitary Alignment", Azmuth's original reason for creating the Omnitrix was an apology for the creation of Ascalon, a weapon which was previously described as “irresponsible” because of how powerful it is. 

Azmuth: “It could cleave right into reality. Tap into the primal energies.”

Zennith: “it’s irresponsible to create things without thinking through the ramifications.”

Ascalon was later stolen by a Warrior who hoped to end the eons-long civil war between the many factions on the Incursean home world. The result, however, was the destruction of the planet, which rendered the Incurseans scattered.

Azmuth: “Zennith was right after all. I swore to hideaway to sword, and dedicate myself to peaceful sciences.”

The Omnitrix was then created with the intention of this “peaceful science” bringing the universe together rather than causing destruction like it’s predecessor. 

Gwen: “And you developed the Omnitrix as a way to promote interstellar peace and unity.”

Ben responds to this, saying:

“And I turned it into a weapon.”

Even though Ben says this, I have to disagree. It is because of Ben’s work, using the Omnitrix, that there are aliens and humans living in harmony in Bellwood near the end of Omniverse. He has shown people that you can trust those who have abilities different from yours, contrasting the obvious Xenophobia existing throughout the previous series. Being different can bring us all together if we embrace it and defend each other. Probably without even realizing it, Ben promoted diversity, interstellar peace, and unity. 

I don’t think we give Ben enough credit for literally turning himself into a hero.

He was presented with an opportunity to do so, and through his own creativity and good heart, lived out his dream with the benefit of saving the Universe multiple times.

Ben claimed that he “turned the Omnitrix into a weapon”, when, from the moment it first attached itself to his wrist, he already had the idea in mind to use it to help others with the abilities it provided. He absolutely could have rebelled and used it as a weapon, or to do whatever else he wanted to with it since it was stuck to him, not giving him a choice whether he wanted to keep it on or take it off. 

Regardless of what he wanted, because it was stuck to him and could not be taken off without a specific procedure, he would have still become a target for dangerous aliens, such as Vilgax, who will stop at nothing to retrieve the watch. 

Because of this, I realize it is not a job that will benefit him in every aspect. 

For instance, we all have the luxury of resting assured that those slightly absurd things we may be afraid of do not exist in our reality. Although we may not always willingly admit to it, there are many of us which fear the dark, or whatever other nightmarish entities haunt our dreams caused by the common fear of the unknown, undiscovered, and unexplored. 

In the hypothetical instance in which entities such as these would exist, however, we can still find comfort in the idea that there are too many individual people on the planet we share for ourselves to be their specific target. Why, out of everyone, would our insignificant selves be the one chosen to endure such horror?

As you may know, many of us also seem to take interest in the paranormal or unexplained. We seem to have a morbid curiosity regarding these nightmarish creatures and entities. And, we are curious because we do not fully understand why these types of being would exist, and what their motives would be, if any at all. 

Because we do not know the answers for certain, it is quite easy for us to be desensitized to this material. That ease lies in the fact that we may, at any moment, just turn away from that which is portrayed as scary and return to what is normal and mundane. We are safely out of the reach of the terror inducing science fiction, and, subsequently, not in any particularly bad or lengthy state of terror at all. 

Ben, however, does not have a choice. 

He has literally chosen to give up that sense of security to be the hero. 

Those nightmarish entities which we may childishly fear are not only real in his reality, but they specifically target him, and sometimes his friends and family, as shown in episodes such as Ultimate Alien’s “Hit ‘em Where They Live.” 

As I said, it is easy for us to be desensitized to disturbing concepts because they are fiction. However, in the Ben 10 Universe, Ben and his team are often thrown straight into these nightmarish scenes. And, in most of these scenarios, Ben and his team do not seem particularly disturbed as they deal with the usual alien criminals causing trouble. 

You might infer that constantly being exposed to these types of criminals and their schemes which vary in level of horror might desensitize you to further atrocities. However, the off-screen slaughter of a Lucubra in “Solitary Alignment” exemplifies exactly the part of their reality which may leave our main heroes quite squeamish. 

Azmuth: “After defeating the errant knights and the Lucubras, St. George stood alone against the Diagon. He cut out its heart and left the sword buried in it. I'll show you. 

Kevin: “No!”

Gwen: “I - I can't watch. I'm gonna be sick.”

Ben: “Azmuth, get us out of here now!”

It should not be considered a show of weakness to express how much these true horrors affect oneself when this is your everyday life. 

Ben canonically suffers from nightmares. This is also something the fandom often includes in their own works of creative writing, often followed by Ben not being willing to share any details of the terrors he may suffer during those nights. 

Interestingly, fan fiction writers also often include Ben having a similar approach towards pain. Ben’s reasoning for this seems to be that, because those defined by words such as “brave” and “strong” should be capable of handling these traumatizing situations, whether they are occurring before your eyes in real life or inside your mind while asleep, they should not turn to others to “burden” them with such things. 

It is the hero’s job to carry that burden, apparently. 

This is exactly the kind of thing that is heavily overlooked in Ben’s case because it is something that really should be obvious. Likewise, it should be obvious that this kind of rationalization of mental or physical suffering should not be deemed okay, and nobody states that it is. But, nobody admits that this is a mature outlook to have, either. 

It is mature because it takes into consideration the reality in which he lives in so much so that he does not wish to allow others to be exposed to the full extent of the parts of the hero life which cause suffering towards the one who is burdened with the responsibility of easing or preventing the suffering of others. In simpler terms, the hero. 

Although the series has never really gone into the specifics regarding what it is that haunts him at night, we can infer it has to do with the threats he faces on the daily, and most often involving enemies which are particularly dangerous.

"Sometimes when I eat late at night, I have nightmares so real, I wake up hitting the Ultimatrix. One time, I thought I saw Vilgax hiding in my closet. It was one of Grandpa Max's extra shirts." (Ben, Ultimate Alien - "The Big Story")

There are many possibilities which are explored and discussed regarding what Ben may have to face as a cause of his position. One of which is the idea that the arm or wrist on which he wears the Omnitrix is in danger of being damaged or injured, in the form of something such as Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, or worse, losing the arm completely. Multiple of Ben’s enemies have attempted to remove his Omnitrix arm, therefore this is a dangerously plausible possibility. 

In the case of something such as this, I would immediately assume that Azmuth, a being who is deemed the smartest in arguably five galaxies, has already premeditated issues such as pain or injury to the user and, subsequently, would have installed a protection or prevention function. However, it may also be argued that Azmuth built the device based on his own idea of what purpose it will serve and how it will be used. 

As I stated in the beginning, the Omnitrix was not built to turn the user into a superhero. That was Ben’s doing. So, whatever side effects come with rapid and consecutive transforming into aliens, as well as activating this ability in the physical way Ben does is a cause of his own desire to continue to be the hero. 

A less often explored concept is the idea that using the Omnitrix in this way would cost him so much that he would no longer desire to continue being the hero. If the hero work would not only take from him his sense of security and privacy, but also an essential limb, it seems only just that the unfairness of the circumstances would push someone into a loss of desire to do what they once loved. Keep in mind, there are even individuals who believe that the Universe would be better off without his efforts, namely Will Harangue and Pakmar. The truth is that, even in these circumstances, the universe would still need him against his will. And, in that case, should he still be burdened with that responsibility?

As I have mentioned, unlike regular people, Ben has an extremely valid reason to fear things we don’t have to. Ben’s choice to become a hero is what puts him in the position to be that target. And, undesirable circumstances such as losing a limb do not erase the fact that he is still the target for dangerous, and to normal people, scary alien creatures with nightmare inducing intentions. 

Obviously, continuing to do this job with one arm would not be the same. It may be more difficult depending on what would be put in place of the lost limb. And this is something that those enemies of Ben’s would probably realize. To them, it may make him an even easier target. 

And, in the hypothetical situation in which he does not only lose the arm, but also the Omnitrix, they may think that it is the perfect time to take their final revenge on him in this unarmed state. Which, returns the discussion regarding what contributes to Ben’s nightmares and very valid personal fears. 

Yes, Ben has friends and team mates to back him up who have their own abilities and skills. But, even so, Ben is often the last man standing in dire circumstances - the one which they all depend on. 

Who, then, will defend the universe if the last man standing can not defend himself? 

This not to say that there is any doubt in his capability to prevent the situation from going this far. That is precisely why I praise him for being so quick and reliable. When all of the above is not only a hypothetical, but truly your reality, it is crucial that he has these characteristics. It is only unfortunate that all of this is also heavily over looked and glossed over, especially in the case of many of his canon love interests who don’t seem to take any of this into account at all which leads to their disconnect and misunderstanding of his person. 

[auberginesdonthavelimbs]

Phanniemay Day 9: World Building

Word count: 1457

“Papa, what happens when we die?” The man started, completely unprepared for this question from his young son. 

“Why do you ask?” The child shrugged.

“I don’t know. I heard some people talking about it.”

“About dying?” The child shrugged again, and his father noted, not for the first time, that he was going to need to break that habit sooner rather than later. It could make conversations rather difficult. “What did these people say?” he asked, hoping the more explicit question would prompt a more explicit response.  

“They said we were all gonna die if the hunters built a portal, because they’re gonna come in and kill everybody.” Than man gasped quietly, doing his best to hide his reaction from his son. Whoever ‘they’ were, their fears were valid, but they had no business discussing those fears in front of one so young. 

“My child, you don’t need to worry about hunters. They cannot build a stable portal, and, even if they could, they wouldn’t get through. Daddy and I, and every adult in a thousand-mile radius, will fight to protect our home, and you. I promise you, you aren’t going to die. Do you believe me?” The child nodded, seemingly unconcerned. Thank goodness. 

“But people die sometimes, right? What happens to them? Where do they go when they’re not here anymore?” The man sighed. He was glad that his son wasn’t afraid of imminent death, but that didn’t make this conversation much easier. Children liked simple, easy answers, and there were none of those to be found regarding such complex questions. Well, he supposed he had better meet his child where he was at, as it were. That could guide the conversation, at least.  

“What do you think happens when people die?” Another shrug. Fantastic. “You asked where people go. Did someone tell you that people go somewhere after they die?”

“I guess. That's what people say sometimes, that someone isn’t with us anymore, or that he moved on, and stuff. So they must have gone somewhere.”

The father nodded. Yes, he supposed people did say things like that. 

“Well, yes, a lot of people believe that, when a ghost dies, they go somewhere else. Some people speak of a place called the Timeless Realm, where everyone who ever died spends eternity. But people who are alive can’t get there, because we are still part of the natural flow of time.” The expression on his child’s face told him what he already suspected - this was too abstract, and the boy didn’t understand a word he was saying. 

“It’s sort of like … you know how there are some types of things that we can pass through, and some we can’t? Well, imagine that the timeless realm is one of those things that we can’t pass through. But after a ghost dies, their body changes, so the two types are switched; they can only touch those things that are intangible to us, and they simply pass through that which we can touch.” The boy cocked his head.

“Like a human?” 

“N- … sort of, but ghosts can’t become humans. It’s just a metaphor.”

“What’s a melaphor?” The man resisted the urge to put his face in his hands. To think, there had been a time not too long ago when he couldn’t wait for his child to start speaking. 

“A metaphor means that you are using one thing to describe something different. Like, I might say that water is crystal-clear. I don’t mean that the water is made of crystal, just that it’s perfectly clear, in the same way that a crystal is perfectly clear. Or,” he continued as he reached out to ruffle his son's hair, “I might say that your hair is downy. Down is a type of very soft feather. When I describe your hair as downy, I’m saying it’s very soft, but I’m not saying that you have feathers. Do you understand?” He considered for a moment.

“So dead people are like humans in some ways even though they aren’t the same as humans?” The man hesitated, then shrugged and tilted his head in the well-recognized symbol of, ‘eh, kind of.’ 

“This metaphor is a little bit more complicated than that. I just meant that some people believe that the reason we don’t see dead people is that people change completely when they die, so that they can’t interact with the world in the same way that they did when they were alive. The Timeless Realm is an example of a place that the dead might go, based on the belief that they don’t move through time the way we do anymore.” He could see that he had lost the boy again, and he shook his head. 

“But that’s just one belief. The truth is that nobody knows for sure what happens when we die, because nobody who dies can come back to tell us. Other people believe that, when a ghost dies, their body turns back into energy, and when a very powerful ghost dies, a new nova forms in that spot.”

“What do you believe, papa?” That was the question, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to tell his child what to think; he and his partner had agreed a long time ago to let their son come to his own conclusions as much as possible. But he did need to answer the question. 

“I don’t know for sure. I can only guess like anyone else. But … why don’t you come sit on papa’s lap?” The child floated up and over, nestling easily into his father’s embrace. The man couldn’t help but remember a time when his son would spend most of his time in one parent's lap or the other’s, and he was painfully reminded of how quickly the boy was growing. He smiled at his son and ruffled his hair again. 

“I do believe that our bodies are made of energy, and I believe that we become energy again when we die. But I’ve never felt the presence of an energy nova the way I feel the presence of another ghost.” He placed his son’s hand on his chest. “You feel that? The feeling of another person’s core is like nothing else in the ghost zone, no matter how much energy it has, or how concentrated that energy is. So, I believe that core energy is something different from regular ecto-energy. And I believe that when we die, our consciousness is no longer holding that energy together, so it dissipates.” He paused. This might be getting too abstract again.

“That means that it stops holding together. It’s like how water in a cup is held in place, and held in a certain shape, by that cup. If the cup breaks, there’s nothing holding the water together anymore, so it spreads out in a puddle.” The boy seemed to be thinking very hard. 

“So our bodies are like cups, and our cores are like water. That’s another metaphor, right?” The man hesitated a moment, then nodded.

“It is a metaphor, very good. I was saying that our consciousness - our minds - are like the cup, but, yes, you have it basically right. And the thing about water is that it can always take the shape of its container, no matter what it was doing before. You can take that puddle and put it into a new cup, and then it will be in the shape of that cup. 

“So maybe the reason that energy in the atmosphere doesn’t feel like a person is that it needs to be concentrated into a core to be felt, and it can only be concentrated like that when there is a mind holding it together. This core energy is all around us, but too diffuse to be noticed. Like how being surrounded by humid air feels very different from being submerged in water. 

“But, sometimes, a new mind enters the ghost zone, like when a child is formed. And that mind can draw core energy to itself, and concentrate it into a core of its own. Of their own, I should say.”

“Is that what happened when I was formed?” 

“Maybe. Like I said, nobody really knows. Do you feel like your core used to be somebody else’s?” The boy shrugged again. 

“I dunno. I don’t think so.” 

“Well, then perhaps I’m wrong. And you don’t need to know, right now, what happens when we die. Many people never figure out what they believe, and that’s ok too.” That prompted a pout.  

“I wanna know, though.” The father chuckled softly.

“Yes, child, we all do. But, sometimes, we need to accept that there are some aspects of the world which will always remain mysterious.”

A/N: There’s a lot of fanon that I wouldn’t begin to know who to attribute it to, but, in this case, I definitely stole some shit from pearl84 on ffn again, this time from Dawning of a Sun. (It’s a very good, very dark, and very long story and you should definitely read it.) Specifically, I think I took the idea that ghosts can feel one another's essence, as it were, by touching their chests. Probably also the term “formed” to describe the creation of a new ghost, and the term “nova” or “energy nova” to describe the swirling green things in the ghost zone, and maybe some other vague things about the world. Again, tho, this isn’t necessarily meant to be set in that universe. 

[hungarianrhapsodyof1986]

How You Saw The World

How You Saw The World

Hiya everyone ^^! It’s me, Cap. Soph606 with... another fanfic ^^! It will be based on Vumin, and it will be from Jumin’s point of view. I’ve always wondered how V had seen the world, considering he was a photographer who saw more to everything around him than what was presented before him... but this is how it would go in my mind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this and have a good day ^^!

How You Saw The World

I’ve always admired how you saw the world. You saw it in every detail; no matter how small it may be. You added deep, aspiring meanings to the littlest things, all the while revealing the great, moving messages the biggest of things wanted us human beings to receive; astounding me every single time. I’ve never been able to see what you saw, hear what you heard, feel what you felt; nor sense what you sensed... and that makes me wonder how you were able to obtain those many, hidden truths; even without having to undergo training nor mind-numbing and painstaking contemplation. It was as if you had some kind of gift. A gift I didn’t have. A gift I wished I had received. But; even if I wanted to receive it, I still questioned what it could do; especially right after seeing you. It gave you so much, and those blessings it bestowed upon you were too mighty and strange for me to understand. That made me ask so many questions. How could you see the world in all its beauty? See the good within the bad? Fall in love with humans despite their hypocrisy and inconsistency? You’ve always lingered on the good rather than the bad and lived your life believing in the wonder of this mysterious earth; along with the good and purity of people. You were fascinated by even the most minor of details; and you documented all of their perplexities and complexities behind the camera lenses you had frequently hid your eyes behind. For a time, I mocked you, foolish, jealous and blind as I was; not knowing how to honor and understand someone as interesting and precious as you... and you were conscious of that. Yet, you didn’t cry. You didn’t plant a grudge against me, nor did you seek out war against me.

...Instead, you dragged me into your world.

You dragged me into your world of bewildering puzzles and mesmerizing beauty. You helped me see what I could not. Obtain what I could not get. You showed me what you were able to see. You taught me your ways; and I no longer mocked you. I no longer laughed at you... rather, I was inspired by every word you uttered and followed you with all the will I had in my soul. Ever since I was a child, I had always been blind to your universe, which you already had when you were born. You saw everything with eyes only few possessed. Because of that, I was jealous... I thought you perfect... not seeing the full picture. But when you led me into your world, I understood. Even in your world of passion and art, there were imperfections and abominations. There were things a normal person would consider as curses to them.

But you were never normal.

You were a gifted person, childlike and naïve. Or at least, naïve in my eyes. As I said before, in your aesthetic haven of endless wonders, there were abominations. I was one of them. Afraid of exposing my inner demons and ghosts, I tried to hide every negative aspect I had... but I failed miserably. With your eyes of truth, you saw everything I had attempted to bury deep within me; and instead of despising me and shooing me away, you embraced me and loved me, killing the darkness that had blinded me to everything around me. I was a cold, emotionless and heartless man who believed that humans were corrupt. I lost trust in them long before, and I thought that I was better off alone. Because of that, I lost interest in the world, and it lost its interest in me in return. Because of that, I failed to see the beauty you saw, and I got lost, spiraling in the bottomless pit I unknowingly dug for myself. I buried myself in my grief; hurting myself without end.

But when you came along, everything changed for me.

You brought to me warm light, warming up my heart and dispelling the darkness. You chased away my demons and you decorated my empty world with your love. I was never able to express how grateful I was to you, as I was not adept at expressing myself, but I showed you parts, trying to break the walls I have built around myself. As I expected, you broke them down for me and saw everything within me. You aided me in everything I did and loved me for everything I was. You sang to me songs of utter devotion, told me tales of overpowering emotion; showing to me the many truths you’ve always seen. You continued to teach me how to see the good in everything, in hopes that I would follow your footsteps. I hoped that too. And for a time, I thought I had. I thought everything was perfect. But then... something happened. Because of that, my world crumbled into dust; and the question that had always stayed at the back of my mind haunted me.

“If you disappeared, would I be able to survive?”

That question still haunts me to this very day. Everyday, I fear that I might suddenly collapse; and no one will be there to help me. And as I rise to the sound of birds chirping outside once again, I proceed, thoughts racing in my mind. I’m burdened with them. I head downstairs to eat breakfast, and I’m greeted by the same box that had rested on the dining table ever since you passed away. Stricken by grief, I was never able to touch it... though I’ve always wondered what was inside that thought-invoking object. I sigh. Are memories really the only things the dead can give us? I eat, staring at the sky for the thousandth time. The sky is bright... you would’ve seen beauty in it, even if you were enveloped in sadness... but I would do quite the opposite. Even if you’ve taught me, I’ve never inherited your gift; and it hurts me... it hurts me so much. O, unsympathetic sky... why must you hurt me more? Everything around me is a reminder of you. The framed photos that hang on the wall remind me of the photographs you took. They show me only fragments of the reality you lived in. The cameras around me remind me of the times when you marveled at the tiniest of details; like the ant that once crawled in the garden outside, or the falling leaves during one Autumn season. And the sun... oh, yes the sun. You used to tell me everyday how it inspired you; how it gave you the passion that fueled you every single day you lived. During the final moments of your existence here on earth, you told me not to mourn; not to let myself drown in the deep ocean of despair you had once rescued me from... and I promised you that I wouldn’t... but now, I’m just angry at myself. I’ve failed you. I’ve been aggrieved ever since, and I’ve wished every single day that it was I instead who had been taken away.

But it’s been too long.

Enough of this. Enough sulking around. I’ve broken every promise I made you. I mourned. I let myself drown. I am ashamed... but the very least I can do for you now is try to move on.

I open the box, and I see a couple of pictures. On top of those pictures is a note. “My favorites” it reads, and I look through all of them, still remembering what hidden messages you revealed to me.

Contrast. Uniqueness. Balance. Misconceptions.

“The contrast of the black and white shows us that everything in this world has a dark and light side to it. There is always conflict between the good and the bad... and sometimes it seems that one side is winning. But, when you look closer at it; when you study the picture well, you’ll see that there is always balance. Neither side wins nor loses. One cannot live properly without balance. One cannot live only filled with negativity and pain; nor can one live only filled with ecstasy and the sense of being in blissful nirvana. Both will only blind you; but if both sorrow and joy are balanced, one can see everything. One can live in peace. Most believe in the opposite; thinking a life filled only with joy will give you everything you ever wished for... but I understand. It’s a common misconception, at least for me; which brings me to talk about uniqueness. Just like this flower, we are unique. There is no one who is an exact copy of us. One may look like us, or act like us, but there’s always something that separates us from the world... may it be our talents or philosophies or whatever it is that we possess that others don’t. We are all afraid from being called different. We know that the world will mock us for being so... but it is our uniqueness that makes us who we are. It is our uniqueness that makes us special, so we must treasure it and express it proudly just like this flower. We all have a gift, it’s just that it’s not easy to discover. Treasure yourself, you are only one. There can be no one else like you.”

Hope. New beginnings. Possible futures.

“The sunrise is a marvelous, mysterious and ravishing thing. It’s an event that brings me hope for a bright, new day. It signifies new beginnings; it can even be one itself. It whispers in your ear possible futures... it wishes to bring you hope; but most of the time, we are deafened by our worries and fears that we don’t even bother to hear it. The sunrise is something that empowers me to live on, knowing that there is still a future to discover, that there are still much more things to learn. Nature just wishes us to survive; and it gives us items and gifts of wonder and beauty to do so... it’s only natural that we do it a favor and do what it wishes. We all have success waiting for us. We all have the potential to do something great. It’s just that we need to do our part to make our fantasies come true. If at night, under the gaze of the calming moon, we dream and fantasize of the future, then in the morning, under the gaze of the bright sun, we try to take a step forward to achieving our goals. The reason why I believe the sunrise is a symbol of hope and new beginnings is because the light of the newborn sun dispels the dark set around us. When the sun rises, it tells us that it’s ready to guide us. It brightens our life, exposing every truth we couldn’t see in the darkness. Though, do you not see the balance? Yes, there is light, but there are still fragments of darkness left. I believe in a life of balance. That’s what gives me hope. I wish everyone else could find hope in the sunrise too.

You shape your world, and no one can shape it for you. Make your unique world of self-expression. Craft your future of hope.”

Peace. Harmony. Unity.

“I have always believed in the good of human beings. I believe we are all creatures of peace and harmony. We are not made for war. War brings us only destruction and ruin, may it be internally or with another person. When we fight one another, we kill one another; both literally and figuratively... but when there is peace, and when we aid one another, see what greatness we can achieve! When we help one another, we become just like the flower and the bee; we all benefit and survive. We are united someway, but misunderstandings tear us apart. With my photos I have tried to advocate peace; and I hope those who’ve seen my work can see what meanings I have concealed in my pieces. We must learn to cross the boundaries uncontrollable forces have set for us... we must break down the walls that have been built before us and give joy to those who have never experienced such before or had lost it. There cannot be peace when our demons overpower us. We cannot live in peace if we are ashamed of ourselves. When I met you, I knew you were tormented by inner struggles and unrest. I saw how you were at war with yourself... and I wanted to help you. I hope that we have become like the bee and the flower in this photograph; and that I have given you the peace your soul has begged for for so long. Just like you’ve given me peace, I’d like to ask you to give it to others as well. Be the bee to those around you. Inspire people to be the best they can be. Believe in the good of people; linger on the good. I stress on the importance of balance, but strangely, I am more attracted to the light; just like everyone else. When you meet someone, focus on their light... but if their darkness shows, teach them how to control it; show the way of balance. Be the bee. Be the peace.”

...

Once again, I am perplexed by your ability to comprehend such things. As I remembered what you’ve told me long before, I remember the sound of your voice... the sound of it is still strong; I hope it never grows faint. I wish the real world could be like your ideal one... I wish the beauty and the good could express themselves more often. When you were still here with me, everything seemed to glow. The many colorful flowers seemed to grow more vibrant. The birds seemed to sing songs that I could understand and appreciate. I felt like I was in heaven when you were with me... but now that you’re gone... I feel like I’m in hell. I laugh sadly at a sudden realization.

...Balance.

I sigh out of longing and fix the photos; ready to place them back inside the box when I see a note lying at the bottom. I recognize it to be from you... your messy handwriting always stood out. I take the note out and I begin to read.

“Hello, Jumin. Most likely that by the time you read this, I’ll be gone... so I’ve decided that I would take this opportunity to tell you the things I was unable to tell you when I was still there, in the mysterious world that kept so many secrets from those who were clueless of the magic around them. Ever since I was a young boy, I have seen the enigmas of this universe; and I’ve always been curious of the littlest things around me. There was always this burning passion within my heart, and it burned so great that I wanted to share the beauty I saw to those who were blind to it. I found a way to do that through photography. I grew to love the beauty set around me by nature. With my curious eyes, I exposed the wonders of the sights around me, and I desired to express them to the world. As a photographer, I saw and fell in love with the beauteousness of everything that existed around me. Maybe that’s how I grew to love you. I saw in you the same passion I had. Your eyes were filled with the same curiosity mine always held. I knew, from the very beginning, that you had the capacity to uncover and understand every hidden message nature has to offer us... I knew that you had the same gift as mine. I wished to teach you how to use your gift... I wished to show you that you can do the same thing as me. I think I have taught you the basics during my time there on earth, and in my memory, I ask you to enhance your skills and nurture your gift. See and hear the messages all around you. Learn from them. Be the best person you can be... then be glad that I can rest in peace knowing that you will try.

-Jihyun”

From then, promises bounced forth. I would do what you wanted me to do, and let me die in sorrow and pain if I fail. The light of the morning sun illuminated the glossy paper, revealing colors at the back. I flip the sheet and gasp at what I see. What is this?

A picture of me?

I wonder what you tried to say, but I realized it when I read the singular word that had been scribbled at the bottom left of the photograph.

“Love.”

[addressyourarsenic-blog]

[ hc ] loufte

region of ahfey 

related muses: fenrir, sköll, alleluia

History & Lifestyle

Loufte, formerly known as Scyllus, was an archipelago lifted into the air by the storm god as a haven for the Immortals who were being cut down by Yail and (accidentally) Raeil, Khaeil. Where it used to sit lies in a bermuda triangle-esque area surrounded by cyclones. As such, the locals of Loufte have no safe way of touching on land and instead embrace the fact that they live in the sky now. The people of Loufte are far more technologically advanced than the land down below and they aren’t afraid to show it with their airships and various other technologies that can be seen from below.

The people of Loufte are naturally Nomadic, but their home has a tendency to move with them.

There are, however, giant hub cities that people have settled into like Flux, or the incredibly ancient denizens of C’madiso, who have been creatures of the sky long before Loufte was raised. C’madiso is now considered a part of Loufte, despite the locals not wishing for that to be the case.

The main protein of Loufte is skyfood (which are cloud-borne fish). Seafood is very hard to import, thus making it incredibly expensive. A lot of the food is home-grown in the lower islands of Troponesia, where rain definitely falls.

Sky pirates are also a thing. Just putting it out there. A lot of their captains have wings.

The currency here (and by here: Flux and C’madiso and several airships) is known as the Drachma. Everywhere else is on the barter system.

Notable Skymarks

Home of the Ancients

The Home of the Ancients is the ‘final resting place’ of the last remaining True Immortals. The ones who were not gods, but simply could not die. They hold a lot of Ahfey’s history and were there since the beginning, old, and wise. They are taken care of by Khaeil’s ‘angels,’ who are winged people handpicked by the storm god specifically for this task.

The island is beautiful, pale white. Marble architecture with a plethora of trees growing. It should be noted, that it is nearly impossible to reach the Home of the Ancients if you are not one of Khaeil’s angels. It is in the eye of a large, perpetual hurricane called The Eagle’s Eye, and on top of that, exists as the second highest island. Even a lot of those blessed by the wind god often do not make the journey, if coming from the outside.

It is rumored that denizens of C’madiso can actually visit the Home of the Ancients, but none have shared their story, if they have.

Flux

Flux is the most advanced city on the largest island of the archipelago. It is said that Flux is actually the focal point of most of the islands in Loufte, and the other ones simply revolve around it. Whether that is true is up for debate, but (with the exception of C’madiso) Flux is the only consistent city with actual coordinates that can be pinned down in the archipelago, meaning there might be a gravitational force at play there.

Flux is extremely culturally diverse, being a trade town as well as the only place accessible in the sky. It is not the lowest floating city by any means, but its consistent position helps with immigration as well as trade.

Technology is at its finest here in Flux and it has a massive airship dock, as well as transporters. Malls, theater, concerts. Culture is an incredible focus as well as its incredibly different districts each with their own fashion and culture.

It is said Flux is ran by one mysterious entity known as The Conductor. All the electricity in Flux is generated by machinations that run underneath the city. The sewer system is a mysterious Labyrinth that not many have returned from. It is said The Conductor lives there.

C’madiso (Paradiso / Starhaven)

C’madiso, known by Fluxopolitans as ‘Starhaven’ is the oldest island in the Loufte Archipelago, and was annexed into Loufte by geographers, to the disdain of the locals. A lot of the world’s drama began in C’madiso, as it is the kingdom founded by the original Sun and Moon, El Sol and La Lune. The architecture is very flowy and covered in gold, that is said to transition in color depending on the seasons. The spiral is a very popuar shape and is used in most architecture. A lot of the buildings are old, but not weathered, as C’madiso is one of the few islands to exist above the clouds (along with The Home of the Ancients).

C’madiso is the closest to the cosmos as any land can get in Ahfey, existing on the same layer of its atmosphere as the aurora borealis do in Glaskhei and Ikenglas.

The locals of C’madiso worship their current king, Fenrir voh Lune, king of the moon, son of La Lune and El Sol. The denizens sport multicolored hair and are heavily aligned with the moon. Those sporting flamboyant warm-colored hair are often ostracized and seen as Other, seeing as the current sun, Sköll voh Lune is heavily ostracized, himself.

All of the denizens of C’madiso can speak common, but prefer not to. Their language is referred to as Celestial, which sounds like twinkling chimes and little songs for each sentence.  The language will be talked further upon in another document.

Another cultural aspect is that of surnames: Surnames. Celestials’ surnames are often the first name of the parent who dies last, for example: La Lune was Fenrir and Sköll’s surviving parent, therefore, their full names would be ‘Fenrir voh Lune’ and ‘Sköll voh Lune.’

-> voh = “son of”

-> vah = “daughter of”

-> veh = “child of”

The people of C’madiso also all have silver blood, sporting proof as being directly created by divine entities, while the royal family is meant to have golden ichor.

The city itself’s decor is said to be split down the middle, sun decals on one side of it, moon decals on the other, but a lot of the sun paraphernalia has been defaced, broken, or even painted over, or removed entirely.

The fate of C’madiso is said to foretell the fate of the rest of the world.

Aiari (The Airship Council’s Meetingplace)

Aiari is a quickly moving island hidden between the clouds. At least that is what is said. Actually, Aiari is masses of broken up rock, almost like a sandbar in the Sea of Clouds. It is barely qualified as an island because it is so small and fragmented. It’s only considered an island in the winter, when ice frosts over the surface of the broken up rocks to make one solid structure.

Airship captains tend to meet here to hold important meetings, or settle scores. Deals and Parley occur aplenty here. Murder also occurs aplenty.

The Troponesia

The agricultural source of Loufte. The Troponesia are several tiny, low-hanging islands that are exclusively for farmland, as they are fully below the clouds and rain can fall on them. A lot of the locals aren’t as elitist about the sky, but are mostly just human. Currency is not really a thing for them, either, as they prefer the barter system, trading their food for technology from Flux.

Some of the Troponesian islands have actually managed to create gliding technology that allowed them to fish from the sea itself, and then return, but this is a very difficult and dangerous process. Fish from Troponesia is extremely expensive as a result, and is generally only caught around festival times.

The Sea of Clouds

The main source of protein for Loufte, it is the big hang of clouds covering Sanguisos. Many species of celestial fish have made their home. There are a lot of airships that go fishing here, and there is a huge variety of fish with a wide variety of flavor. It’s incredibly plentiful, and all small or infant fish are supposed to be released back into the Sea for repopulation.

Geography & Climate

Loufte varies in climate solely based on its position. It is spread all the way over the atmosphere. Its epicenter, Flux, is quite warm as it is in the tropics, but the Troponesia can be very cold depending on their position. Usually it is quite warm and tropical, since they receive direct sunlight.

The Troponesia are the only areas that actually receive rain in Loufte, the rest live around within the clouds, or above them, so it can be somewhat humid. The only exception to this is C’madiso, whose air is warm, yet crisp. Like a spring breeze, at all times.

[kindly-whisper-norbury]

Regarding Loki in Avengers 4…

There are SPOILERS ahead for Avengers Infinity War, so please don’t read on unless you have already seen the movie, or else don’t mind being spoiled.

Still here? Alrighty, then. I just put on my reading glasses, so you know it is going to be a long one. And please forgive me if the “read more” doesn’t work… Tumblr Mobile is weird that way.

I was driving home from dropping my daughter off at work, and I was listening to some random songs, and one came on (which I will name at the end of this post) and it just threw an image into my head that I could not shake. But I don’t think that I would actually be able to fic it, so I am just going to put the thought out there for y'all to do with as you will.

The main gist of it is that there are mystical, scientific, and spiritual aspects within the MCU, and we have pretty much come to expect them to work in harmony. And in that respect, I was thinking what if the Stones also have their own personalities and thoughts, and are essentially living beings in their own right? I was thinking that they do not usually work together because they choose not to—because they know what will happen if they do—but the Gauntlet basically forced them to. It enslaved them, and made them do things that were against their nature.

What if in A4, the stones seek out the remaining Avengers to try and set things right? And after they succeed, and all the dust-people are returned to themselves, the Stones prepare to go their separate ways… but before they do, they decide to work together one last time and give gifts to those that helped to right the wrongs that Thanos forced them to perform.

They give nothing of cosmic or universe-shattering import, but small things. Little rewards, in the grand scheme of things, and they will reverse no deaths (something the Time Stone scolds Strange for doing). However, there are loopholes. Vision is brought back as an actual flesh-and-blood man by the combined efforts of the Mind and Reality stones, for example, because he was never actually “alive” to begin with, and part of his psyche still resided within Mind.

But they choose the gifts on their own, and nothing is outright asked for. When they come to Thor, they look into his mind and they see how much he has lost. His family, his friends, his home, his throne. What could they do for him? They see his parents in his thoughts, but even if the Stones were willing to bring them back, they would not do so because Thor believes they are happy together now in Valhalla.

Loki, though… when Thor thinks of Loki, he does not know where he might be. He died a warrior’s death, and he was of Asgard, but he was not Aesir. Would a Frost Giant be allowed in Valhalla? Was he now with Odin and Frigga and all the other Asgardians that lost their lives with honor? Or is he somewhere else? Is he alone?

The Stones tell him that Loki is not in Valhalla, and the news breaks Thor’s heart. They tell him then that he is not in Valhalla because he is not dead. Thor is dumbstruck. He thinks that maybe Loki lied again, that he faked it. But they tell him that no, he didn’t. Nor did he fake it either when he fell from the Bifrost or when he was stabbed by the Kursed.

His body protected itself both times. The first time, he was in the cold deep of space—an environment that a Frost Giant embraces. He fell through space until he slept, and when he awoke he was in Thanos’s clutches. Thanos knew what he was, knew how to make him do what he wanted. He tortured him with heat… endless, scorching heat. But Loki’s magic protected him, protected his heart and mind with a layer of ice. Yet still, Thanos broke him, and Loki had no choice but to do as he had been told.

On Svartalfheim, after he was stabbed, Loki’s magic again protected him. It again locked his mind and heart in ice, and he healed. When he awoke there, he was confused, afraid. He did not know where Thor had gone, and so Loki returned to Asgard. He wished at that moment only to speak to Odin, to find out what Odin would think of losing him. But Odin saw through the illusion, and Loki felt he had no choice but to banish him, or else again go into exile.

And now, Loki’s magic protects him once more. He is in the deep of space, frozen and barely alive—but he is broken, too far-gone to survive for long. He will not heal this time… but for the moment, he still lives. And with that, the Stones know what to give to the King of Asgard.

The Space Stone reaches out, brings Loki to Thor’s side. Loki is unconscious, and is now Jotun—his skin is blue and icy-cold. But here on the surface of the Earth, with the sun on him, he begins to warm. His magic begins to break down, and he starts to die. Thor begs the Stones to stop his death, and the Time Stone envelopes Loki, stopping him at the moment just before he passes away completely.

Time then begins to reverse for Loki. He fades and flashes back, grows younger and younger. Again, Thor asks the Stones to stop—but by the time they do, Loki is an infant. He begins to cry, and Thor kneels beside the naked blue child. They look to one another, and Thor touches his face. Like when Odin first held Loki as a baby, the child changes. He has looked into his brother’s mind, and has seen himself as Thor remembered him, and had made himself in that image.

Thor removes his cloak and covers the baby, then he looks to the Stones and asks if Loki will remember his life from before. They tell him that no, he won’t, because infants seldom hold to memories. The Stones sense that Thor does not want Loki to forget everything, and so the Time Stone again wraps its influence around the prince. He ages again, and when he reaches what for humans would be mid-adolescence, the Stone releases him. The now-teenage Loki looks to Thor, who asks him if he remembers anything, and Loki says no—then he asks Thor who he is.

Thor tells him that they are brothers, then he places their brows together, and he tells him that he will remember for both of them. At once, memories flash in both Loki and Thor’s minds. Loki sees them as they were—both the happy times and the times when they fought; he sees the betrayals and the sacrifices; he sees the years go by in an instant, and he does not like everything that he sees.

Thor asks him once more if he remembers, because he felt the memories, as well. Loki tells him, “only pieces”. Loki asks Thor if he can forgive him for all the mistakes he made; and Thor asks Loki to do the same for him. Loki looks to the sky and smiles at the sun.

And on and on life goes, and if I can step out of the wandering thoughts for a moment and to what the future would hold…

Thor would then become Loki’s guardian and teach him the history of their people, and all of the other Avengers would play a part in his life. For example (and assuming all these people survive/return): Doctor Strange and Wanda would guide him through re-learning the mystical arts, Clint would help to administer the right kind of discipline (including self-discipline), Natasha would re-teach him combat arts, Steve would give a living example of how to live life honorably, he would learn from Bruce how to control his more violent impulses, he would find in Tony a kindred-spirit to speak to about the trauma they have gone through, T'Challa would teach him how to be a good leader, Vision would be right there with him in learning how to be “human”, Bucky would spend time with him and speak about how best to forgive themselves for the mistakes they made (even if some of those mistakes were not of their own making, but were forced upon them), and Rhody and Sam would both teach him different aspects of the military (such as bearing, and how and when to obey—or creatively disobey—the rules).

He would not only be surrounded by adults, though, as he would have peers in Peter and Shuri; as well as more “regular” people, such as Harley Keener, Cassie Lang, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Cooper and Lila Barton.

And I know this is all very far-fetched, and dripping with wishful-thinking… but what if, guys… what if even part of this happens? What if we do get Loki back, but a younger Loki? One that made the mistakes, that remembers them… but now feels that there is a chance to at least change something for the better? The things he did were not erased—they are still there. He still remembers them, but they are not who he is. They never were, but now he realizes that. What if he gets a second chance?

For the record, the song that got his thought-train rolling was “I’ll Keep You Safe” by Sleeping At Last… but now I am working on a full-fledged playlist to go along with it. Because even if this doesn’t happen (and I doubt it will), in some reality of this multi-verse I am sure it could.