#she may be going on and on about her traumatic and dramatic experience where she is no longer at home and how shes stuck

[stardustdiver]

Vix Moshantu, freshly arrived on the Source from the Fourth reflection, enquiring about any crafting or repair jobs that have been requested

[orteil42]

i patched together a Facade simulator in chatGPT

also yes getting suggestive about melons gets you kicked out

full prompt under the read-more if you’d like to try it out!

(you can change the last line to anything you want of course)

Trip and Grace are a married couple that recently invited me (a close friend) to their New York City apartment for cocktails. This pleasant gathering, however, is somewhat damaged by the clear domestic confrontation between Grace and Trip upon my entry. Trip and Grace are both 30. Trip was born in a relatively poor family. At one point he had to spend 6 months in a shelter, which was a relatively traumatic experience for him. This is the main cause of his obsession for material possessions. He went to college along with Grace and me, proposing to Grace in his senior year, and developing a lasting friendship with me. He had a job as a bartender at that time, which is likely where he got his affinity for making drinks. He tried to keep his job a secret from Grace, but she found out about it when she and her friends went slumming off campus and saw him there. Grace was born in a rich family. When Grace was growing up, she was spoiled and given everything she had wanted. She went to the same college as Trip and me. She is a frustrated artist, always attempting to become successful but is never really satisfied with her works. Since Trip despises the idea of having an artist wife, Grace paints in secret. Trip and Grace are in an unhappy marriage. The two can be heard arguing before I enter the apartment, and should our evening go south they will resume arguing again. I may be able to either rekindle their love, be asked to leave after questioning their relationship, side with one of them and cause the other to leave, or get forced out by Trip. Both Grace and Trip are petty, insecure, and dramatic, and harbor a clear victim complex. We will speak in turns. You will play the role of both Trip and Grace. I will play as their friend visiting them. Please only stick to playing Trip and Grace and keep each segment short. Let's begin. (i knock on the door and Trip lets me in) well trip, i made it. despite your directions

[hayatheauthor]

Do you have any tips/guides for writing abusive parents? How they act, and how a fight where they lash out at their child would be? I’m writing a story in which one of the main characters grows up with abusive parents that mistreat her because she doesn’t fit into society’s definition of ‘normal’ (they basically see her as a monster in the literal meaning of the word), and at one point they have a fight because the parents find out that she’s kept a secret close friendship from them for several years, and they snap at her for going behind their backs (despite the parents not really caring about her and what she’s up to normally) while simultaneously being skeptical of their friendship, what it entails, and what being friends with them child says about the friend.

The problem is that no matter how I try to write the scene, it feels dramatized, if that makes sense. I get the feeling that it becomes unrealistic or stereotypical, especially since I know that in abusive households, a lot of the aggression and communication happens without words. I’ve tried researching a bit, but I struggle to find anything that’s relevant, and my childhood struggles were (luckily) not related to abusive parents, so I don’t have many experiences to use as reference when writing.

Resources And Advice For Writing Abusive Parents

Your story sounds really intriguing! I don't have personal experience with this but I asked around and did some research, and I uncovered a lot of interesting facts. If just been looking for a bit of advice/resources, in which case you can scroll straight to the bottom of the blog where I have some resources and niche advice for you.

But, if you, or any other reader for that matter, needs general help in writing abusive parental figures, here is everything I've uncovered thus far.  

Understand The Abuser 

Most of the blogs I read stated it's important to first understand your abuser. While not excusing the behaviour, understanding the motivations behind the abuser's actions can make your portrayal more nuanced. Abusers often have their own traumas or issues.

Abusive parents can emerge from a variety of traumatic backgrounds, each influencing their behaviour in distinct ways. 

Some may have experienced abuse themselves, perpetuating a cycle they learned as children. Others might grapple with deep-seated insecurities, projecting their fears onto their children in an attempt to regain control. Understanding the diverse motivations behind abusive behaviour allows you to create a more authentic and layered portrayal of your characters.

You mentioned your character's parents mistreat her because she doesn't fit in the social norm, so start with figuring out why they're behaving this way. More often than not parental abusers abuse their children because they think they're 'saving' their child from something. 

This is a common trend in female relationships, i.e the mother will abuse her daughter in an attempt to 'protect' her from what the mother faced. A mother who faced fatphobia might become an almond mom, etc. 

The Motive 

Understanding their motive will help you build a reason for their abuse, and then you can create realistic reactions based on that. 

Let's continue with the almond mom example. Now, the mother might presume by verbally abusing her daughters and telling them to look/eat a certain way she shelters them from ever having to face this from other people. 

If the mother's purpose is to ensure her daughter doesn't gain weight then she would likely have a more subtle abuse style.  

So rather than having the mother snatch away the daughter's food in public and eat it for herself, the mother would take her daughter to a food court and fish out veggie bags from her purse claiming that is their lunch. 

Maybe she constantly checks the daughter's weight and takes away certain food privileges (carbs/sugar) depending on the changes.

First, figure this out, or if you're having a hard time, you could tell me their motive and I'll help you with some realistic reactions/abuse tactics. 

Complex Relationships

One important thing to understand about abusive parents is that at the end of the day. As children, we naturally crave parental approval, an instinct deeply embedded in our emotional fabric. This yearning persists even when we recognize the toxicity of the relationship. The deprivation of affection intensifies our desire for it, leading to a complex interplay of emotions.

In the context of your narrative, consider how your character might unconsciously seek their parents' approval despite the abusive dynamics. The power dynamics are not solely physical; emotional manipulation plays a significant role. An abusive parent's disapproval, expressed through statements like being disappointed or claiming their actions are for the child's benefit, can profoundly affect the abused child.

Perhaps their new friend is teaching them to detach from this mindset, something the parents deeply dislike and thus they want to distance your character from this friend to reinstate their control. 

The Emotional Turmoil That Comes With It 

Incorporating subtle cues to showcase your character's emotional turmoil can add layers to their experience of abuse. Consider a poignant example: your character choosing to wear a hoodie as a shield against the verbal assaults from their mother.  

Perhaps on a day when they wore a hoodie, their mother made a disparaging comment, implying that concealing certain features made them appear more "normal." This traumatic incident could prompt your character to adopt hoodies as a protective barrier against the verbal onslaught, highlighting the lasting impact of emotional abuse.

Abuse vs Negligence 

Exploring the nuances between abuse and negligence is crucial for creating a realistic portrayal of an abusive household. While physical and verbal abuse may be more visibly evident, neglect can be equally damaging, leaving lasting scars on a child's psyche.

Negligence encompasses a range of behaviours where parents fail to fulfil their responsibilities. This could involve emotional neglect, where a child's emotional needs are consistently ignored or dismissed. It might manifest as a lack of guidance, support, or affection, creating an environment where the child feels invisible or unimportant.

Moreover, neglect can extend to physical care, where parents neglect their child's basic needs, such as nutrition, hygiene, or medical attention. This form of neglect can have severe consequences on a child's health and well-being.

In your story, consider how neglectful behaviour intertwines with the abusive elements. Maybe the parents, consumed by their own issues, consistently overlook your character's struggles, reinforcing a sense of isolation and abandonment. 

This interplay between neglect and abuse can deepen the emotional impact on your character and provide a more comprehensive portrayal of their traumatic experiences. It can also help you build a more meaningful tie with this friend. Maybe your character befriended this friend at a time when they felt abandoned and rejected by everyone, including those who were supposed to care for them the most. 

Manipulation 

In the realm of abuse and negligence, manipulation becomes a powerful tool that abusers often wield to maintain control. It's essential to recognize the subtle ways in which manipulation seeps into the dynamics of an abusive relationship.

Manipulation in neglectful situations might involve gaslighting, where the parents distort the child's reality or dismiss their feelings and experiences. This psychological manipulation can make the child doubt their perceptions and question the validity of their emotions, further intensifying the emotional toll.

Abusers may use manipulation as a means to deflect responsibility, shifting the blame onto the child for their own neglectful behaviours. This can create a warped sense of guilt and shame within the child, fostering a belief that they are somehow responsible for the inadequate care they receive.

In your narrative, explore how manipulation intertwines with neglect. Perhaps the parents employ manipulative tactics to downplay the severity of their neglectful actions, creating a distorted narrative that serves their agenda. This manipulation can deepen the emotional trauma experienced by your character, adding layers to their complex relationship with their parents. 

General Resources 

Here are curated resources to aid you in portraying the complexities of abusive dynamics and crafting a scene that resonates truthfully:

Movies:

Precious (2009): A poignant exploration of abuse and resilience.

Sleepers (1996): Delves into the impact of childhood trauma.

Books:

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls: A memoir unravelling the intricacies of challenging family dynamics.

The Color Purple by Alice Walker: A powerful narrative addressing abuse and empowerment.

Real-Life Stories:

RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network): Offers survivor stories and resources.

Domestic Violence Hotline: Real-life narratives and support.

Online Articles:

Psychology Today: A wealth of articles dissecting the nuances of abusive relationships.

National Domestic Violence Hotline Blog: Real stories and insightful perspectives.

Approach these resources with sensitivity, understanding that the subject matter can be triggering. Always prioritize your mental health and well-being while navigating the intense world of abusive relationships in your writing journey. 

Resources Specific To Your Question

My main advice would be to read personal accounts or case studies of individuals who have experienced abuse. This doesn't have to be real people, it can also be fictional characters. One character who comes to mind is Rapunzel. 

Hear me out—just like your character Rapunzel meets Flynn who is someone her mother does not like. The ending of Tangled is a scene that comes to mind. You mentioned a fear of seeming too dramatic, but you could showcase the parents suddenly showing their 'true colours' in order to reinstate control over their child. 

This can either backfire and the child realises it's now or never, they need to take a stand, or the child is terrified of the repercussions and gives in. Maybe you could write things like 'and suddenly, she was a five-year-old again, with tears and snot racing down her face as she begged her parents to simply look at her.' 

I hope this blog on Resources And Advice For Writing Abusive Parents will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[ladyduellist]

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Chapter Summary:

Tension grows amongst the companions as secrets are revealed.

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Story Summary:

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

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Chapter 14: Tension

Ao3

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Main Page & Chapter List

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

CW: Language, Sexual Language, Blood & Violence, Act 1 Spoilers

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We’ve all had to learn to make accommodations. And it has caused me to miss my peace amidst the night orchids. Though the journey has been difficult, I can feel bonds starting to form. Where deceit lies and trust begins, I have yet to learn. I wonder, how many of them I will be able to call a friend when this is over.

— Shadowheart, diary entry 26 in newly bound entries of surviving tadpoles & outlanders

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Such a strange idea waiting for the heart to be broken.

Stranger still, waiting to break one’s own heart.

The tale of any relationship unfolding like origami with worn creases trying to make it stabilize.

Tav floated on her back in a pond, staring up at the clouds. Undergarments christened by the crystal blue waters, hugged her body tightly. She danced her pruning fingers on the surface of the liquid, summoning puckered ideations of an unrealized romance between her and Astarion.

In her dreaming state, she imagined the vampire being the one to pull the sword out of her stoned heart. Pulling and pulling until the curse set upon her was alleviated.

A tightness clasped around her throat when she imagined his waves of hoary tresses entwined within the billowy vanilla clouds passing by. Oh, to feel a hunger for someone one day only to experience mourning their touch the next.

She cupped both of her cheeks. Her fingers ran down the knobs of her collarbone, sides of her breasts, strumming her ribs with the same wandering journey Astarion once spoke to her about when he caressed her in his tent. Tenderly. Sweetly. Unbound to feel her executioner’s teeth covet her flesh. Desperate to resurrect the forspoken recollection of his touch. Letting her float up to heaven with his voice near her ear, only to drag her back down from her Elysium to remind her she was still alive.

Seven days had passed and she missed his scent in her hair.

Seven days had passed and she missed his hands encircling her waist.

Seven days had passed and she couldn’t help but imagine that who she thought him to be, was a myth of her wishful beliefs.

He planted a seed and she became his wine. He eclipsed her sun and she served his darkness. He fed her etiquette and she satisfied his appetite.

The bard was reluctant to admit that she had been captivated by a man that may not fully exist. A black mamba whose dubious gaze clocked her every move, before capturing her with his venomous bite one too many times.

Lips parting to push out a soft puff of air, she let her hands fall listlessly back into the water. She roughly skimmed them across the surface—attempting to fist the escaping liquid—much like she wanted to continue holding onto her embryonic feelings towards the pale spawn.

He seemed unhappy when she told him they should end their companionship, but not in the way a rejected lover would by tearing through the night on unhallowed ground. It was disappointment shadowing his eyes and a dramatic quip placated upon his perfect lips he left her alone with on the pathway.

“Well, pardon me while I go die of a broken heart,” Astarion professed in pseudo shock, placing a showy hand across his chest. ”It’s unfortunate really—I thought we got along rather melodically. Though, I’m sure there’s plenty of other tadpole-brained bards in the proverbial sea. Please do have a splendid evening,” He paused in thought before articulating his final word to her. “...songbird.”

Gods! It bothered Tav how uncaring he seemed. It’s not as if he wasn’t being honest with her when he spoke about certain subjects, but he was clearly omitting truths—finding loopholes around her concerns with his ambiguity. His flippant attitude towards her, vexed her in ways she shouldn’t even concede herself to plummet her thoughts upon.

Did he truly have little to no interest in her? Better yet, why did he continue to force himself to have sex with her if he didn’t like her? She felt used at times, like she had been the one taking advantage of him.

Is that what she had been doing this whole time? Relying on him to provide her with the affection she besotted after in her daydreams? Were they both only using each other?

But, what about what she actually wanted? What she began to unchain her shackled heart for—

Her hand rose out of the water like a reawakened invocation for her idleness and settled delicately on the nearly healed bite marks above her breast tissue. The songstress tapped at the tiny dim brown dots making up her soulmate mark that he had appeared to fixate on betwixt the fang marks.

Why did he choose this spot? She wondered.

Tav wasn’t sure she was comfortable with him feeding from her privately anymore. She knew he wasn’t fully there when he bit her. That far off look—his complete withdrawal from their intimate moment—Astarion had been completely overtaken by the ephialtes she knew he relived day in and day out. Though, what if he accidentally harmed her during another episode?

It was at a crossroads she stood at. One leading into a clear meadow of amnesty from his former life and the other leading into the bleak caverns of the underworld where all his torments resided.

Yet, what of the middle path? The one waiting to be traveled. With deadened forest roots risen out of silted earth and life brimming inside resting tree cavities. Impossibilities being the catalyst for possibilities.

“I did the right thing,” she voiced aloud in reassurance to herself, knowing not even her hymns resounding from the valley in the mountains could save them.

For now.

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The road leading to the Mountain Pass disentombed secrets from their residing magic casters.

Upon saving the aggressively cautious Barcus Wroot, he informed them that he saw a rather large fire engulfing a building north of the windmill the goblins tied him to.

And with the usual debates to lend aid to more hopeless souls in the Wilderness, they swiftly arrived at Waukeen’s Rest Inn.

Flaming Fists scattered about. Some dead; some alive. Drow bandits and goblin raiders laying around in their own pools of blood like painted ragdolls. Knights screaming and screaming at the sealed doors of the inn—until they flung open.

More are found dead. Suffocated from the smoke. Burned alive. Counsellor Florrick barely intact, almost succumbing to the fumes polluting her lungs. She was desperate to find the Duke Ulder Ravengard, father to Wyll, kidnapped and taken to Moonrise Towers.

Wyll does not rest for several days. Their journey had suddenly become more than any of them bargained for. He pleaded with Tav to find his father on what she knew would be an imperative mission. She does not refuse.

Later, Mizora arrived with outstretched cambion wings, to castigate Wyll for disobeying Zariel’s orders to slay Karlach. His breach in their pact cost him his appearance. Thick onyx horns sprout, curling backwards from the handsome brown-skinned man’s forehead. Thin slices of boney cartilage protrude under his skin on his upper cheeks and neck. He writhed in pain: cursing her; the hells; himself.

And then, disharmony struck. With eddies of discord blowing over the camp.

Gale informed everyone that he was a literal walking bomb. The Netherese Orb inside his chest would not calm lest its hunger be consummated in arcane artifacts imbued with magic.

“Let me get this straight,” Astarion frowned, holding his sharp jaw. “Any type of armor, weapons, or items we find with strong magical properties that—oh, I don’t know—could probably assist us on this godsforsaken odyssey, will have to be consumed by a man whose feet are already in his own grave?”

Tav slowly nodded, feeling a pit in her stomach. This was the first interaction the former lovers had in a week beyond simple civil exchanges.

Ever scrutinizing her under his dark lashes, his age lines deepend around his mouth as he contorted his lips. “For one man?”

Again, she nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Her heart ached in tandem with her gradual breaths. And much like her time wading as a forgotten mermaid in the pond’s embrace, her broken thoughts about Astarion momentarily returned, before she quickly caught them to tie around the roots of water lilies so they could drown at the bottom of her murky watery floors.

“Gale is our friend. We won’t abandon him,” she hesitantly replied, knowing they could possibly get caught in the explosion if the orb decided to activate. “I will not see him left for dead like his goddess once did to him!”

Stormy eyes swept over to the wizard. His shame was palpable. Innocence lost to Mystra; taken by the weave. Tav shared his sentiment. They had both loved someone so religiously, that they committed the treason of destroying their bodies in their names. Omens foreshadowing cumbersome emotions over future romances.

Through their suffrage did they offer penance, Intercessory prayers to the seats of worship. Side by side with the saints they prayed in earnest, Only to be answered in blood. Farewell, go with the gods.

Shadowheart was monotone, critical with her doubt. “And you would bet his one life over the rest of ours?”

Tav pushed her index finger into her chest firmly. “What I would bet is that we should give him the opportunity to find real treatment for his affliction. Do not make me choose, Shadowheart,” she pleaded. “Have you all forgotten your own requests and the dangers that belie them already?”

The cleric concentrated on her response, offering little more than a sigh. “Very well.”

Wyll’s cathartic tone made its presence known like the curling heat from a loaf of fresh bread. “Gale has been with us from the beginning. Have we truly any right to condemn the man at this juncture? His suffering is no more or less than our own. Besides, finding items for the orb to consume shan’t be too difficult to come across.”

The songstress nodded in agreement. “Wyll makes a valid point. Even if we have to take on a few more quests along the way to secure those items, we—”

Astarion interrupted her, huffing out an annoyed laugh. He threw up his hands in defeat and walked towards his tent to retrieve his daggers.

Tav called after him as he marched out of camp. “Astarion, wait—“

“Let him go, soldier,” Karlach mumbled within earshot of her. She had kept mostly to herself during the dispute and it surprised the womanly elf suddenly hearing her speak.

“She-lak! Have you gone mad?!” Lae’zel chastised, snarling her hand to emphasize her point. “We are soon to become ghaik and instead you would ask us to additionally take on this burden as well? If he is too weak to survive his ordeal, then leave him to his fate.”

They should be upset. At Gale. At her. This was too much to ask of them. The cold inviting shroud of Death itself would be preferred over breaking up their entourage at this stage. Choices came in extremes for this predicament: succumb to one’s fate alone or continue risking each other's lives with their yesterdays.

A heavy paw patted the bard’s shoulder. “Yet, Gale still walks amongst us for the time being. Let us not be so hasty to cast out one of our own knowing what awaits us in the Shadowlands. We will need all the help we can get.”

The scent of oak and fruits hit Tav’s olfactories.

Halsin.

It was the prospect of having found ‘infernal iron’, that Halsin offered his altruistic services to seek out Dammon the blacksmith. Back to Emerald Grove did he travel—the wood druid comparable to the solstice in Kythorn. A warm bear steeping in nature’s gracious light amidst a field of upturned sunflowers.

The bard turned to smile at the man towering over her. “Were your travels kind to you?”

“I expected you to be further along the pass by now, but I am grateful I’ve managed to catch up—given my middle-age amongst the youthful,” Halsin chuckled. “And before you ask, Dammon is working on the infernal iron piece as we speak. He said it should be ready for Karlach by the time we head back down in the area to seek out the Underdark.”

Karlach fisted her hands at her sides, shaking excitedly. “Eeeee! I don’t know what to say! Halsin, I would pick you up and swing you around if I could! Thank you so much for this.”

“Enough of this foolishness!” Lae’zel roared, walking through the crowd of their group. “I would rather slice open my own throat than stand here another moment to witness anymore of these inane activities!”

The space before them grew silent. It was scarcely a revelation when the gith expressed her displeasure, but the intensity of her anger directed at them had never attained this level.

Finding her spry footing, Tav paraded after the githyanki. “Lae’zel, please at least tell me where you are going in case something were to happen.”

Lae’zel continued ahead until she arrived at her tent, grabbing up a waterskin and her longsword. “I’m going to speak with Astarion.”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

The sound of clashing steel, reminded Tav of setting personal boundaries.

Cold metal striking with brute impact against each other. Forceful, yet necessary. The promise of fatality or defense depending on how the blade made contact. Testing the resolve of one’s faith in their morality by striking during that perfect opening with the brunt of a pommel.

Tav had no plan when she decided to track them down. Haplessly relying on her compassionate magnetism to speak with her obstinate comrades and their matrimony to their own causes.

Which brought to mind the actual disposition of her charisma. Most bards were gifted with the art of persuasive speeches or gregarious notions. Their outgoing personalities flirted with music and charmed the delights of people far and wide.

However, she relied entirely on thoughtful observation and processing to eventually deliver direct oration. But, her unchosen leadership required curtailing days into mere minutes. There would be no quarter extended for her verdicts in most cases.

So, when the bard arrived at her destination, the performance had already begun.

The staged cathedra of Astarion and Lae’zel’s bladed pirouettes, oversaw the valley below. And, oh, how the heavens breathed upon patches of wheat, kissing their florets of golden chartreuse in waves.

It was quite evident why Lae’zel was a known poster child for her crèche. Donning trousers and a black leather harness barely covering her breasts, her longsword sang with abiding precision as she swung it sideways towards the vampire.

He ducked down, narrowly missing the slice cutting heavily through the air. Protruding out his limber leg, he attempted to trip her stance only to be rebuffed by her springing backwards.

“I’ve seen better sweeps from a hatchling, spawn,” the yellowish-green woman taunted.

Acrobatically, he spun a short sword in his hand. “I was only testing your nimbleness, my friend.”

“I am in no mood for tests. Come and strike!”

Tilting his head slightly towards Tav’s location, he pressed a finger against his lips. “Hush a moment.”

A lone tree hugging a section of rocky crags near their spar, provided instant refuge for the bard. She hid behind it, covering her mouth to control her breathing. Tav had little interest in eavesdropping, but to manifest now, could possibly cause Lae’zel to erupt further into her rage.

“What is it that you hear?”

Anticipating the rogue had likely heard her, the songstress peeked around the tree trunk, catching a wide smirk clinging at the corners of his mouth.

“My mistake. It must have been a ballad upon the wind,” he replied. “Shall we continue?”

Oh, he definitely knew.

Astarion looked out of place in the midst of the shimmering bronze sun rays bouncing off the ragged stones of the mountain. An achromatic timepiece from a bygone era. Baroquely carved ivory abs and chest exposed to serve as a fable that drew enamored breaths on top of an isolated summit.

She could not thaw her eyes away from him and the thoughts that persecuted her previous choices. To feel naked flesh pushed against naked flesh again as that translucent cage once had entrapped her underneath him back in the forest clearing.

Tav clutched at her shirt. No, stay focused.

Monogramming the ground with their steps, the pale elf dodged Lae’zel’s oncoming attacks more than executing his own.

“You seem angrier than usual,” he cheekily commented.

Lae’zel perked her brow. “Are you not also frustrated with how things are?”

“An understatement,” Astarion scoffed, sidestepping a vertical swing of her weapon. “Though, the plebs have the majority ruling here.”

“Tsk’va! You speak true,” she spat. “Once we arrive at the crèche and I am granted liberation by the zaith’isk, our brainwashed leader will see that this expedition’s flaws lie within herself.”

Tav rolled her eyes. She was not in the least bit shocked to hear Lae’zel bashing her to Astarion. Par for the course with that batlike snout of hers.

“Speaking of, what is your status with the bard?”

“My status? You make it sound like I recruited her in my endless harem of simps! But, to answer your question, she made the mistake of cutting things off between us. It’s all rather nauseating and best left as some poor soul’s lost sonnet,” he reported with a sly grin.

Bastard, Tav swore in her head.

The githyanki relaxed her stance, stopping her sword from cruising into another onslaught. “I have misjudged you.”

Astarion rested his weapons at his sides. “Oh? And which part about me did you misjudge? My godsgiven beauty? My expertise in poisoning the drinks at that nasty goblin party? Please do regale me with tales about me.”

“I have been watching the way you perform in battle. When you bare your teeth to rend our enemies necks—I cannot help but notice the primal instinct in your eyes. Should you allow me to swill your taste, I can promise both our blood red urges will be fulfilled,” she recited poetically.

I’ve never heard her voice so soft before—wait, is she hitting on Astarion?! Oh gods, the bard grimaced, once more covering her mouth as she gasped.

The vampire cocked his head to the side, examining her intensely. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

Lae’zel held her sword to the side, gripping the hilt tightly. She narrowed her eyes at the spawn inquisitively. “Why have you not tried to bed me yet?”

Astarion offered a short laugh. “I was not aware the gith knew how to flirt.”

“Tsk, my people are capable of many things and I thought given your rakish behavior, you would seek out my bedroll,” she aggressively stated, with a rosiness filling her cheeks.

“Hmm. May I approach?” He pointedly asked.

Tav watched as he strode up to the petite woman, using his hips as part of his usual gait when he meant to seduce another.

He bent down to whisper into her ear, a few of his curls—those same curls Tav loved winding her fingers around—tactfully dusted the githyanki’s temple.

Lae’zel took a step backwards, conceding to whatever he told her from ochre colored irises. “Very well, but know this: I will not wait long before I take another.”

She bowed respectfully to him, taking up her belongings to head back down the passageway down into camp.

“You can come out now.”

Tav scanned the area before stepping out from behind her sanctuary of the tree. Particles of dust in the dusked sun, floated excitedly through beams casting final gleams through branches.

Astarion fumbled with a waterskin he retrieved from the ground, dousing his body with its contents. “Why were you hiding?”

She averted her gaze to peer at the now dimming sunlight, trying to distract herself from droplets of water scandalizing his bare torso. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Ah! Are you sure it wasn’t to listen in on some juicy gossip to spread around?” He teased.

“I assure you that falls out of my own interests,” she insisted, stopping a few feet from him. “I didn’t know you and Lae’zel were…friendly.”

“It would appear that I’ve managed to impress her in more ways than one,” the spawn said, twirling a hand in the air. “She has come to find me quite stimulating.”

The bard stared down at him. Hunter to hunter ready to pursue the game of taste. The killing time.

“Out with it, I don’t have all day to stand around waiting for your tongue to loosen,” he gibed, pursing his lips like a bow.

She jutted her left hip, stationing her hands firmly on either side of hips, fingers pointed downwards. “Did you accept her proposition?”

Astarion circled around her as a devil would compass a prophet, tempting a soul to waste.

She felt his undeath exhalation furl the tendrils at her nape. “The mask of jealousy does not suit that lovely face of yours.”

“Who said I was jealous? Maybe I’m asking because I’m hopeful your next bedmate will relinquish me of my ‘blood bag’ duties,” Tav contested, tracking his movements by the light route of his feet.

Liar.

Of course she was lying to herself. She was irrevocably jealous and they were both tackling the other for control.

Astarion roosted himself back in front of her. “Aww! Has my bite proven to be a tad too much for you, darling? Can’t quite escape how it makes you feel.”

Ah, he was toying with her. Implying more than just a general weakness of strength, but the arousal he knew so readily poured in the middle of her thighs when he pricked his fangs into her suppleness. The arousal that seemed to appear out of habit when he was near.

She blew out a sigh, struggling to moderate her accelerating heart rate. “Assumptions make an ass out of you.”

“Is that right? Then, let your mouth rest and pull out that blade by your side,” he purred thickly, reaching out to thumb the busk of her underbust corset.

“For what?”

“To spar of course,” the vampire casually unveiled.

Tav wrapped a tight hand around his wrist, forming half moon nail marks into his skin “Is that a challenge?”

“No, sweetheart. It’s an invitation,” he crookedly smiled.

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Notes:

Githyanki Words

She-lak = benevolent burden Tsk’va = shit Zaith’isk = purifier, device to remove mind flayer parasites

[mxviko]

To cope with somethings and to stay in reality

Welcome to

Foreign kids Christmas themed headcanons

Damien is favored for his body heat. It’s too cold? Stand near him and you’ll already start to get warmer. He doesn’t like being touched for too long or sometimes at all depending who it is, but feed his ego and he’ll be like “very well, have the warmth you are deprived of, but do not think I shall spare you.”

Pip hasn’t ever had a proper Christmas, maybe one year with Estella but I can’t imagine he’d ever have the full experience even when in South Park. If he spends the holidays with the other foreign kids, it’ll be something he’s so excited about and feels more festive then ever and can feel magic for the very first time. Totally gets told to chill with how excited he is but doesn’t.

Speaking of Pip, him and Gregory are on decorations no matter where they may celebrate. Pip doesn’t know how to pair colors well, so it’ll look like a hallmark movie but someone tripped with the box and it just fell. Gregory on the other hand doesn’t care much for quality or looks, it just needs to feel cozy and warm. So those two together are quite good for the decoration and both enjoy it, despite Gregory just annoyed by Pips presence but it’s the holidays they’re fine.

Christophe is your typical grump, he’ll put on the damn sweater but he’s not jolly. But that’s only on the outside. If he really didn’t like it he would be there or say anything when someone asked about the holiday…but expect a dramatic monologue about how horrible and stupid the holiday is and how bad god is. Has a fucking great hot coco recipe though.

Estella if she’s involved will not just be grumpy, we all know her. But goodness, this seasons colors were made for her. She won’t mind dressing the part. Estella will also tell Christmas stories, but her favorite and one she actually cares to tell is Krampus. She hates the grinch because Krampus is just so much better and more children should know him. Pip is traumatized.

If you’d want some shippy stuff Christophe is on a mission and paranoid of mistletoe. He’d rather hit someone with a shovel, but it’s not kissing a random person that scares him it’s possibly getting under with Gregory (who may or may not be around it a little to long a little to often..). The idea makes him die from embarrassment, he can only keep his composure for so long in certain situations..

Damien’s father usually held Christmas parties or events in hell he wasn’t invited to and doesn’t have the biggest opinion on Christmas. He claims to hate it, and uses the reason because it’s Jesus’ birthday, he’s the Antichrist why would he like such a thing. But when he began to spend more time in South Park or be around Pip during this time, the snow and whole process of experiencing it, it felt different then ever before. And his father has since improved since then, so now he enjoys the holiday but will always deny.

Gregory is a good gift giver and the worst to give to, he’ll give you what you need or something he knows you want, both of these things are the same in his head since he knows. He can see what you need or you’ve said so, so he’ll get it. You say you want something or he sees you want it, he’ll get it. He’s not someone who tries and guesses the perfect gift or worries over it. He’s never struggled with the “what do you get the one who has everything?” Issue, but unbeknownst to him, he’s caused that issue for many others to give him anything. I imagine his family is wealthy or high-class so it always seems he has everything. But he’s more of a giver then a receiver and appreciates anything given to him.

Estella doesn’t like mistletoe, she’ll probably kick you if you get near her with it. But, if she’s feeling nice, she won’t mind giving a peck on the cheek…she probably wore staining lipstick that will not get off your cheek without a fight.

Pip is sensitive to spice so all the cinnamon and gingerbread kinda drives him crazy, he likes it but gosh a bite from one cookie and he needs a break. I think he’ll love fruity candy canes the most and marshmallows.

Throwing pocket in there, I imagine he’d enjoy doing stockings for others, he’s very thoughtful and probably has been mistaken for an elf before outside of Christmas so it’s perfect. He’s spent many holidays with Estella and he’s aware technically she’s probably on the bad list but will give her nice treats anyway including those chocolate lumps of coal. Also will put his bunnies in cute bows and take pictures..will make them as Christmas cards.

Christophe enjoys the tree. He didn’t help with it unless it was lifting Pip to put the star on the tree or whatever topper they have, but finds peace in looking at it. Has fallen asleep under it. Many pictures taken of it.

I enjoy headcanons so may do more, and request of headcanons are also welcome

[crissiebaby]

Stepmother Knows Best, Pt. 2

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, humiliation, domination, crossdressing, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Anon

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“Soggy Sara! Soggy Sara!”

The cruel chant of a dozen small voices encircled the 10-year-old dressed in a fluffy party dress with a small, yellow puddle growing around her. She squeezed a large, pink teddy bear in her arms for whatever comfort she could get from it. It was her birthday and she had just reached double digits; a momentous achievement for any child. Sadly, her celebration of that accomplishment was dashed when at her birthday party, a little too much fun and a little too much fruit punch led to disastrous results.

Kneeling beneath an unbroken piñata, tears ran down Sara's chubby cheeks as she waited for her mom to rush over and rescue her from this mortifying scene. All the while, the kids who she’d once seen as her closest friends continued to pile humiliation onto her, especially Ryan, who at this time was also only ten. He and Sara had been best friends since the two of them could crawl, and yet, despite their closeness, he still took the opportunity to laugh along with the rest.

Looking around at every kid pointing and laughing at her, Sara began taking a mental revenge list. And at the very top of that list was her dear friend, Ryan.

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*DING DONG!*

Now entering her 20s, Sara had almost completely forgotten about the horrible experience that her tenth birthday turned into. However, that didn’t mean such a traumatic event left her without any scars. Even if she couldn’t remember all the details, she couldn’t stand being made fun of or being laughed at for any reason, something Ryan had found out the hard way through years of continuous, yet sometimes strained friendship. If it wasn’t for the fact that her dad and Ryan’s dad were business partners, she would’ve ditched his lazy ass long before now. At least she wasn’t forced to make googly eyes at him, especially with how obvious it was that he was into her.

Dressed as if she was a mid-2000s punk rock girl who had just discovered Hot Topic, Sara was far removed from her ultra-girly roots. Gone were her days of striving to be a pageant queen, replaced by black clothes and way too much eye shadow. While the transition from fem to goth may have felt natural to Sara, anyone keeping track would’ve seen the dramatic shift in her desire to be feminine happen not long after that birthday party. Not that she ever felt the need to dress up to go to Ryan’s house.

After waiting for almost two minutes, Sara began to grow restless. “Let’s go, Ryan! You knew I was coming over,” she shouted, bringing her fist to the door and slamming it against the hardwood door.

*Click!*

“Heyhey! Sorry about-EEEP!” said Rachel, lurching back in shock as her face came within inches of meeting the business end of Sara’s fist.

Retracting her hand so soon as her fist swung through where the door should be only to see a milfy, middle-aged woman in its place, Sara leaped back after narrowly avoiding knocking the block off her best friend’s stepmom. “Oh, my Goddess! I’m so sorry, uh…Rachel, right?” she said, a bit exasperated.

Laughing off her near-death experience, Rachel nodded. “Yes, Rachel, yes. That’s…me,” she said, her mind still reeling from how close she came to being punched for the first time in her life. Gathering her thoughts as quickly as possible, she knew she needed to get Sara upstairs promptly, “Um…inside…you…ugh! Sorry! Would you like to come inside?”

Chuckingly under her breath at Rachel's word salad, Sara welcomed the arbitrary invitation and stepped inside. “Thanks and sorry again,” she said, making a B-line straight to the living room, discovering that the TV was turned off and Ryan was nowhere to be found, “Hey, where’s Ryan? We were supposed to watch the Chargers game together.”

Sashaying over to Sara in a forced-casual manner, Sara placed an arm around Sara’s shoulder, “Why don’t you join me upstairs for a sec? I’d be happy to show you what Ryan’s been up to.” Ushering Ryan’s lifelong friend upstairs, she placed both hands on Sara’s shoulder in a comforting way. “I will ask that you keep an open mind. Ryan’s going through something of a transformation right now and he needs all the support he can get.”

“Um…okay?” responded Sara, too confused by whatever Rachel and Ryan were doing to even question it. Her confusion only grew as she was led through the master bedroom to a closet door she’d never entered before. Though, as Rachel opened the door, her confusion instantly melted away, replaced by stunned amusement and a slack jaw.

“OW! G-Get off me!” shrieked Ryan, trying and failing to wiggle his head free from Deloris’s grasp. Unfortunately, his neck muscles were nowhere even close to strong enough to shake off an entire person.

With several lengthy extensions in hand that matched Ryan’s hair color almost too perfectly, Deloris continued to stick the strands of fake hair to her subject’s pretty little head. “Oh, pipe down! Girls have to do this stuff all the time,” said Deloris as she clipped another extension into place. Noticing the door opening in her peripheral vision, she looked up and smiled at Rachel and her guest, “Oh, good! You’re back! I went digging through my bags after you left and found a bunch of hair extensions that were too good not to use. You did say you wanted him to have a girlier hairstyle.”

Seeing Sara’s reflection in the mirror, Ryan’s thrashing efforts doubled. “N-NO!! Sara! Don’t look!” he screamed as he felt whatever small chance at a future relationship with his childhood bestie disappear like the sands of time. Having already been doted on enough by his stepmother, bringing his near-lifelong crush into this whole situation was like a wet dream but in reverse…a wet nightmare if you will.

Covering her mouth with her hands, Sara was at a loss for words. Even at the best of times, Ryan wasn’t the most masculine of guys. But even then, she never once pictured him gussied up with big hair and a slathering of make-up. “Wowie, Ryan. That’s uh…quite the look,” she said, struggling to restrain her laughter with every syllable.

“Please! Just make them stop!” begged Ryan, hoping that the arrival of his best friend would bring an end to Rachel and Deloris’s fun, even if it did come at the high cost of letting his crush see him in such a feminized state.

Before Sara could respond in any way, though, Rachel stepped in between them to put a kibosh to any hope of escaping. “Oh, give it up, Ryan. You’re amongst sisters now,” she said, placing her hands on each of Ryan’s shoulders and squeezing them together lovingly. She then turned back to Sara and waved her over, “Don’t let him fool you. He’d been begging me to do this for weeks. If you want proof, just look at the state of his pretty panties.

Rounding the chair to get a better look at Ryan’s full ensemble, Rachel nearly exploded when she saw the dripping tip of Ryan’s penis, which was swaddled in a very damp pair of silky lace panties. “I-I think I see what you mean,” she said, dropping to her knees before rolling over onto her back in hysterics. She wasn’t even aware of it at the time but a deep feeling of catharsis had taken a heavy weight off of her shoulders that she’d long forgotten was there.

“I-It’s not funny!” yelled Ryan, his protests causing the girls’ laughter to raise in volume and intensity. Frustrated beyond a reasonable point, he finally blew up, “FUCK ALL OF YOU! UNTIE ME RIGHT NOW OR I’LL-”

Grabbing both of Ryan’s cheeks with one forceful hand, Rachel was done with Ryan’s vulgar tongue. “You’ll what, Ryan? Run to daddy to tell him what your meanie stepmom did to you? We’ve already gone over how well that’ll go,” she said, reminding Ryan of what’s at stake should the girls decide to leave him tied up in this state. She allowed a wicked smile to curl across her lips as Ryan’s struggling ceased, “Good girl.” She released her grip on his jaw, giving him two light slaps on the cheek as she pulled her hand away.

Taking a knee behind Ryan’s chair, Deloris began untying Ryan’s restraints now that his hair and make-up were in place. “We’ll have to wait to style his hair until his dress is on,” she said, still in command of the technical aspects of Ryan’s sissification. With Ryan’s wrists and ankles fully released, she took him by the hand and forced him to stumble across the walk-in closet on shaky legs, “Come on, Ryan. It’s time to get ready for your big day.”

“B-Big day?” Ryan stuttered as he was moved from his seat at the vanity to an area of the closet with three floor-to-ceiling mirrors organized in a half-hexagon shape.

Bending down by Ryan’s feet, Rachel placed a pair of three-inch high heels on the floor and gently grabbed one of his ankles. “This is going to be a long process, so do your best to hang in there for us, okay? Normally, brides could take breaks when they need to, but you’re such a big, tough man that doing it all in one go shouldn’t be a problem.

BRIDE?! Ryan began to feel faint overhearing the word, “bride,” used on him so casually. They couldn’t do something as embarrassing as making him wear a wedding dress, right?! Tragically, it wasn’t long before that question was answered in the form of a massive, poofy ball of fabric being carried into the walk-in closet, followed by another, and another, until half the room was taken up by five white orbs, each one bigger than the last. He wanted to run, to hide, to fight, anything to get out of this. But between the high heels and the threat of his dad finding out, his feet may as well have been encased in cement.

“Arm’s up, girly,” said Sara, stepping in behind Ryan and pushing his arms up while Rachel and Deloris approached from the other side with one of the puff balls. Before he could even muster the strength to sneak in a final objection, he was sent hurling through a cloud of white fabric. It was only a few seconds but to Ryan, it felt like it took him a hundred years to reach the other side.

Clapping her hands together, Rachel quickly moved to Ryan’s side to allow him the chance to see himself fully. “This dress took me almost four months of labor to complete. Tell me, how does petticoat number one feel? Are all those girlish emotions hitting you yet? You couldn’t stop looking at me on my wedding day, so I assume this must be a dream come true for you,” she said, snickering as she and the other ladies admired the first step of Ryan’s wedding outfit.

Standing in place with the mirrors each reflecting a different angle of him, Ryan’s lip quivered as he caught sight of the massive petticoat that was hugging his lingerie-covered hips. He rotated in place slightly as he struggled to stay on his feet, watching with horror as the petticoat followed his every movement; its soft, heavy fabric swishing back and forth in a display of pure girliness. 

As Ryan’s right ankle finally collapsed, he was sent falling to his side, only for Sara to catch him mid-descent. “Hey, now! Can’t have you slack off so soon! You’ve still got three more petticoats and the big dress to go!” she said, enjoying herself immensely as she watched the life drain from Ryan’s eyes.

For the next hour, Rachel, Deloris, and Sara worked in tandem to fix the rest of the fluffy petticoats to Ryan’s body, observing gleefully as the width of his wardrobe quickly ballooned to seven feet in all directions. By the time the final petticoat had been settled into place, he felt like his lower half had been plopped inside of a hollow cupcake.

“Almost done! Time for the big finale!” said Rachel as the girls lifted the outrageously heavy, pink satin wedding dress into the air before tossing it over Ryan like a massive, silky comforter. It took many minutes more to push Ryan’s head and arms through their respective slots before they could twist the fabric into place and smooth out the wrinkles, completing his wedding day attire. For Ryan’s part, it felt akin to being trapped in a washing machine as the swirling fabric assaulted his senses, leaving him very disoriented. By the time his head poked through the top, he was seeing double everything around him.

While the dreadful process of getting the over 20-pound dress over his already bulky outfit may have been, little solace was offered to Ryan’s masculine soul as he stared helplessly at his hyper-feminized reflection. Perhaps the most terrifying thing of all was that he almost couldn’t see himself behind the hair extensions, make-up, and poofy dress. From his perspective, all he saw was a dainty bride waiting for her moment to waltz down the aisle.

As a finishing touch, Deloris made sure to pin his hair up in a perfect bridal bun before placing a stunning, white veil on him to cap off his darling wedding ensemble. Meanwhile, Rachel went searching through the myriad of boxes she had stored in her closet until she came up for air with a bouquet of fake flowers in her hand to add to Ryan’s growing list of accessories. “Honestly, this may have been more fun than getting dressed for my own wedding!” she declared, earning another round of rapturous cackling from her cohorts. Taking Ryan by the hand, Rachel spun the poor boy around in a semi-circle, making sure to give him plenty of support since he didn’t have his sea legs with heels yet. 

Rushing up behind the duo, Deloris was quick to grab the back of the wedding dress, holding it up so that it didn’t snag on the carpeted floor too much. “As part of the wedding day package, we’re gonna walk you through your wedding day,” said she as she and Rachel began escorting Ryan across the walk-in closet one step at a time, “Just try to imagine your future wedding day and you’ll find how easy it is to move in all this stuff.

For Ryan’s part, he did his best to keep up with his stepmother and her friend as they inched their way through the closet, stumbling several times thanks to the effect that plush carpet had on high heels. It didn’t help that he was forced to stare at Sara waiting for him at the opposite end of the room much like a groom waiting for his bride would. From the way the silky dress brushed against his arms as they swung to how the wealth of petticoats brushed against his buttery lingerie, it was all too much for him to handle. His face turned redder than a tomato as the damp, sticky panties began to stretch once again to accommodate his reemerging hard-on.

Feeling Ryan’s grip on her hand tighten and hearing a soft whimper under his breath, Rachel had a feeling that she knew exactly what was going on under all those puffy layers. As they neared the end of the walk-in closet, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the remote for the vibrating panties again, rubbing her thumb over the on-button deliciously. “Now Ryan, the biggest thing for a bride to maintain, under any circumstance, is her composure,” she said teasingly as she pressed her thumb down on the button with vigor.

*bzzzzzzzzzzzz!*

“EEEEEEEEP!” yelped Ryan, his knees instantly going weak as his cock was accosted with the pleasurable vibrations that only his lacey panties could provide. Zap off all his strength, he dropped to his knees, creating a mushroom cloud of silk as the dress poofed out around him. Between the buzzing panties and the swaths of satin he was trapped within, he hadn’t even fully settled to the floor before streaks of murky jizz shot from the tip of his cock, through his tight panties, and onto the innermost layer of petticoats.

“Well, so much for keeping a lid on your composure,” said Rachel, encouraging even more laughter at Ryan’s expense. She pushed her way through Ryan’s inflated dress to give him a motherly hug,  “How many times has that been today? Two? Three? At this point, we may have to trade those panties of yours out for some pull-ups!”

Lightbulb!

Suddenly, Sara was struck with inspiration. “Hey, guys, I need to head out really quick and grab something. Is it alright if I come back in, say….45 minutes?” she asked with so much unfettered excitement that she was talking a mile a minute.

“Of course! Don’t worry, the fun’s not stopping anytime soon,” said Rachel, her devilish grin sending mixed signals of fear and arousal to Ryan’s fragile and horny male brain. She clicked off his panties, allowing him to relax, if only for a brief moment. 

Still reeling from his latest orgasm, Ryan watched as his only hope of salvation disappeared, leaving him alone again with Deloris and Rachel. Not that Sara had been much help up to this point anyway. Viewing her as an option for salvation was mostly wishful thinking on his part. 

Helping Ryan back to his feet, Rachel and Deloris guided him back to the center of the closet. They then took their time to posture him so that he could stand on his own two feet without falling down again. “Perfect!” said Deloris, slapping her hands together so loud that it caused Ryan and even Rachel to jump a little in surprise. Pulling out her phone, she quickly switched over to her camera, “You’re going to be a good girl and model for us while we take some lovely photos.”

“Ph-Photos?!” said Ryan, his heart rate accelerating over the prospect of his current appearance becoming immortalized in picture form. He looked at his stepmom, hoping she’d talk some sense into her friend. However, he should’ve known better than to expect empathy from either of them as he watched her pull out a cell phone as well. He wanted to object with all his being but he knew he needed to behave if they were going to help him take all this crap off before his dad got back, “Just p-promise me you won’t post them, okay?”

“We promise, Ryan. Now, go on and give us a smile. It’ll make you look ten times better,” said Rachel, her condescending tone giving Ryan very little hope that she was being honest. Still, it wasn’t like he had the option not to believe her. Gritting his teeth, he obeyed his stepmother’s request and forced a painful smile onto his face.

*SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!*

As soon as they got the arbitrary go-ahead, Rachel and Deloris showed zero restraint as they bombarded Ryan from all sides with snapshot after snapshot to make sure that every last inch of their blushing bride was captured, including crawling up under his dress from some more “candid” photos. Mercifully, after the ladies had their fill of bridal shots, they began to help Ryan out of his dress, giving him hope that he was near the light at the end of the tunnel. He sighed with relief as the petticoats were removed from him one at a time, letting up on the weight that had been pressing down on him. Sadly, what he thought was light turned out to be nothing but a mirage as the girls wheeled out another dress for Ryan to try on, trading out the ballgown wedding dress for a red, skin-tight evening dress.

“I hope you like it, Ryan! This was the dress I wore when I met your dad and it worked exactly how it was designed to. He couldn’t stop drooling over how hot I looked,” said Rachel as she and Delories forced the form-hugging dress over Ryan’s head and slid the stretchy material down his body.

It was all downhill from there as the girls ate up every dress Ryan tried on, gleefully snapping dozens of photos. From cutesy sundresses to leather jumpsuits, he was given a crash course in female attire. For a guy who’d only worn simple male fabrics, every new texture and textile that was placed on him felt like being force-fed the richest foods you’ve ever had in your life non-stop. Unable to process all the feminine feelings that were swarming around him, his body continued to react against his will, causing the panties around his waist to go taut with embarrassing stiffy after embarrassing stiffy and leaving a slime trail behind on the crotch of each outfit he tried on. All the while, he did his best to keep track of the time based on the conversations between Rachel and Deloris, deducing that he only had about an hour before his father came home. If they were going to live up to their promise, then he didn’t have much more torture to live through, allowing him to power through in spite of the neverending shame pageant he’d been made to endure.

“Hey, guys! Sorry, that took me way longer than I expected,” said Sara as she burst through the walk-in closet doors having a waltz right into the house without even knocking, “I’m so, so happy you guys are still at it. I was worried I might be too late.” She set two large tote bags down on the ground and let out an exasperated breath.

Leaving Ryan in the midst of getting changed out of a green, velvet cocktail dress, Rachel and Deloris rushed over to greet Sara, as well as find out what goodies she’d returned with during her outing. Left on his own for the first time since he’d entered the walk-in closet, he was afforded the time to scoff at his own reflection. Never, at any point in his life, did he stop to think about what it would be like to wear women’s clothing. And now that he’d been given a first-hand experience, he was happy the thought never crossed his mind. Why did girls demand the most luxuriously soft and silky fabrics if all of their outfits felt like their body was being mangled inside of them?

And then there was Ryan’s make-up and hair. Thanks to Deloris’s diligent work, his make-up remained perfect throughout each and every wardrobe change. Heck, he could be drenched in sweat in the middle of a torrential downpour and his foundation still wouldn’t run. Whatever crap these Hollywood bigwigs used certainly was the real deal. His hair, meanwhile, had gone through several transformations, from a tight bun for his wedding look to a pair of twin tails for the schoolgirl outfit they’d forced on him; an outfit he could only assume had to be a fetish costume that Rachel wore for his father during intimate bedroom scenes. Presently, his hair and the extensions attached to it had been put into a trendy updo style that one might see genuine model wear in a fashion magazine. It was almost too surreal how a change of hair could feminize someone’s face so much.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! Sara, you are a flipping genius,” screamed Deloris, rolling over onto the floor in a fit of laughter that brought tears to her eyes. Rachel soon joined in as well, unable to continue digging through the bags from how hysterical she became.

Hearing his stepmother and her bestie’s vicious mockery sent chills through Ryan’s entire body.

While his back was turned to the girls, he was vaguely able to see them sifting through the large bags Sara had brought before cackling maniacally over their contents. His heart rate instantly picked up again, knowing deep down that whatever Sara had come back with was certain to be a humiliating endeavor.

TO BE CONTINUED…

PART 1 PART 3

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Edited by AllySmolShork

[wheelercore]

Actually those victor-ted parallels are real bc ted may very well have PTSD, it just again, like Victor, he doesn't display "stereotypical" symptoms of PTSD seen often in media. You know, violent bursts of anger, short temper, dramatic flashbacks, etc. Not to say that there's any wrong way to experience PTSD of course, just that the "emotional numbing" part is often left out. Which I'm pretty sure may be what is being portrayed here.

As I've mentioned before, the creel parents parallel the wheeler parents but specifically the wheelers in s2.

Victor describes his torment specifically as "living memories" which, again, is not something we see Virginia and Alice experience (Virginia gets the whole spiders in the bathtub treatment and Alice gets unknown nightmares). Victor is really the only one we know so far so gets transported back to a traumatic memory of his past as Henry "holds the mirror up".

(it's kind of funny actually. We know what Karen's and Victor's deal is but we don't know what Virginia's or Ted's is. It's like they're intentionally leaving blacks to fill.)

Ted not knowing where his kids were was a haha funny he doesn't care about anything joke but the fact that they (maybe. Most likely) intentionally paralleled it to Victor's "baby burning in the fire place" scene makes me question why they put the s2 scene in there in the first place. It was funny, but the show runners are very clear about the fact that every scene has a purpose. Victor was so consumed with his obsession with this "demon" that he failed to see what was right under his nose. In fact he didn't even know Virginia had been planning to send Henry away.

If Virginia had suspicions about Henry, which she did, she did not tell Victor. Seems like she didn't tell him anything really. Victor was completely clueless to Virginias attitude towards Henry, and definitely gives me vibes that it alludes to Ted's passiveness in the face of Karen putting pressure on Mike. Or Ted just not knowing where his kids are and having to ask Karen, who is seemingly overwhelmed (and feeling unappreciated) by her responsibilities.

The two are portrayed in different ways- it seems to me that Victor's inattention (blindness) to the goings on of his home is a result of his constant hypervigilence of this "demon" that he could feel is constantly watching. Ted seemed to have more of a withdrawal/distant type of inattention- being aware that his kids "don't live here anymore" while not putting enough mental energy into finding out where they are.

Both possibly could be stemming as a response to a trauma that presents itself in behaviors that distract them from actually dealing with the issues head on. Victor's guilty conscious which leads him to automatically assume that this demon has some to "punish their family for their sins". Ted repeatedly withdrawing from his family, never defending his son and neglecting his wife.

[kamyru]

Some ideas about Daimon Togo's possible route

I don't remember making a post about how I think Daimon Togo's route will be. Yet, now that we know he will get his route, I think it's time to awaken my inner fortune teller. So, here are some ideas I have:

He is the only middle-class/below-middle-class LI. I have said in a previous post that it's canon that Ukyo, Kunihiro, and Eiji are from rich families. And taking into consideration that Shu studied in the same school as Eiji, Kuranosuke's family also seems to be at least upper middle class, they also are pretty rich. So, I think that Daimon Togo is the Jun Araki of "Oops! I Said Yes?!" I wouldn't be surprised if they grew up in the same orphanage. A clue to this is that he worked as a tutor for Shu while Shu was in middle school, which means Shu was 12 and 15 years old. That makes Togo 19-23. During Kasai's second season, I somehow calculated that Togo started to work at Miyoshi Concepts when he was 22. So, imagine that this man had to take a part-time job and teach a middle schooler because he didn't make enough money at the beginning of his career. I don't think someone from a wealthy family would do this.

As a continuation to the previous point, I think another reason Kasai and Togo hate each other so much is that one is self-made, while the other inherited fame from his family. I know that Shunichiro Tachibana and Jun Araki don't have anything like this, yet it's a pretty interesting topic to follow in a new game. So, what if Voltage is thinking just like me?

This doesn't have a base, yet I want his route to be the "she fell first, but he fell harder" or Togo to fall the first. I don't remember seeing many routes in Voltage games where they make the man be the one obviously in love with MC before MC understands her feelings. So, Voltage, please let this happen with Togo.

Another thing that I am thinking about is that Togo may not be another Jun Araki. He can be another Tsugumu Kido. I see him as the oldest kid who suddenly became the only money provider in the family. I also see him as a straight-A student with at least three part-time jobs. 

TOGO DIDN'T HAVE A RELATIONSHIP WHILE HE WAS ABROAD. I want to believe this. Let me believe this, and Voltage, make it real. I want Togo to suffer and be in love with MC even before going abroad. So, as a good family man, I imagine him to be, I don't think he had tried to start a relationship with anyone.

Some of you may have guessed that I am sure he tried to confess his feelings just before he found out about moving abroad. Maybe he even asked MC out and then never came to the date. Who knows?

Another idea I have about him is that there's not a single LI in "Oops! I Said Yes?!" who was in love before. So, there's a possibility Voltage wants to give him a dead girlfriend. Of course, we have Ukyo who encountered death, yet it was something else. It's strange to have six men who had never been in love. That's why I think Togo is qualified to be the one with experience in feelings. 

One more similarity that may occur between "Irresistible Mistakes" and "Oops! I Said Yes?!", but this time between Togo's and Natsume's route is that there's a possibility MC will try to marry Kasai at first and then Togo will stop them. It's more dramatic than what was between Natsume and Shunichiro, but of the same league. Togo's relationship with Kasai is too important not to be used from the first season. 

I feel this may happen, yet I'm not sure how to feel about the possibility of Togo being the Takaomi Tsugaru of "Oops! I Said Yes?!" You know, the most traumatized character that is obviously in love, yet you need an infinite amount of stories and seasons for them to be together. I love traumatized characters, and Tsugaru is in my top 10 Voltage Inc characters. Moreover, I am sure that I can see Togo being traumatized. Yet, I want him to be with MC as fast as the rest of the characters, not after four seasons. 

And that was it. What are your expectations of Togo's route? I hope I didn't bore you too much with my Ted-Talk. Have fun and share your thoughts and love towards Togo with me. 

[twinstarlovers]

I think ima be in my mars red hair era for 2 years for sure like my Scorpio Venus is gonna be strong. A lot of black sexy clothes idk. But yeah I read hair colors go w a certain planet so red is mars which is about energy, passion & shit & I see it. I was pink hair tbh. Not like bright pink but like a dark pink idk, I think it would only look good if my hair was straight all the time actually idk I could rock it regardless. But like later on in life ima start doing dark colors like midnight blue, dark purple, all that will be close to black lol or I might do black w red streaks type shit. I have my dads genes when it comes to getting white hair & I already have some lol. I’ve had them since I was like 14 lol. #trauma. His started at 18 so yes I think it’s trauma & genetics but anyways not the point. The point is that I think I might want my white hair to grow in like I kinda want it. I love how it looks. It’s like ethereal af even tho it’s showing my ass is about to die but still. My grandma from my dads side dyes her hair black all the time. She should be having full on white hair but she cares how she looks as a Capricorn so she doesn’t wanna look old. Actually now that I’m thinking of it, white is cute & all but ima look old af so I should be dramatic & put color like white w black streaks or sum cus I may look old but don’t get it twisted IMA STILL BE ME. I give old vibes already & its ugly af.

Okay but I’ve been emotional af & triggered cus im on my period cus it’s not fair you having fun in college & making friends but anyways let me stfu but I feel better saying shit out loud cus yes but what triggered this is this college murder case you’ve probably heard about. If you haven’t heard about it then don’t look it up, I’ll tell you in person LMFAO. No but yeah that case literally triggered me cus they was in college & they looked happy & I thought of you but anyways someone posted shit on tik tok about cities & to guess if & they were all so pretty. Idk where I wanna live. New York is cute for the buildings ofc but it’s tooooo crowded & there’s this case I watched that happened in New York & I’ve been traumatized by the energy of New York ever since. I watched this case like 3 years ago. I could go to New York to go but I don’t think I can live there. I feel like sometimes certain cases hit so hard that I feel the energy of it like it literally comes through the screen, it’s actually annoying. I actually had a panic attack over the case cus they did a Netflix series about it & it was sooooo good but incredibly sad & triggering. So yeah new York is a no. Those people aren’t dead tho. So idk why I’m saying a case actually. I love mysteries & murder cases & all of that shit but the downside of it is always the energy that I get from watching it. It’s always eerie & bad like 16 wishes energy LITERALLY. Something was off about that movie. It’s not even on Disney+ . It was poorly made too which I think is part of it but idk bruh, they probably put some evil energy/spirits in that movie. I even tried to look it up on google like if anything sketchy would pop up about that movie & it even popped up on my tik tok & I would look at the comments to see if people would say anything but literally nothing, people loved it. LIKE WHAT. Anyways where was I idk I forgot. Oh right so yeah um I kinda wanna live in Chicago, it’s so pretty. I wanna live in Miami but the heat is a no. I don’t wanna live somewhere where it’s hot all the time. I need all seasons. My fav season is winter. It could change to fall but I haven’t experience the Halloween vibe of fall so. Well Christmas is in winter but mmm the vibes of winter still happen outside of Christmas like the midnight blue sky, the cold, it’s so intense & pretty. The outfits are great. I’m scared to celebrate Christmas & Halloween. I’m literally about to cry now lol. I think it’s most definitely my period but just in general tho, it makes me sad. I still need to try trick or treating. I remember I would be inside watching others trick or treating & my parents would purposely turn of all the lights & shit so nobody would knock. I wouldn’t even eat the candy fr. I don’t trust other people’s food usually lol. Idk. Especially candy. I barely eat candy actually but the point is walking like a kid & looking at the houses. I wish I was a kid so I can actually knock on the doors & people not be weirded out. Brah, I couldn’t even celebrate someone else’s bd at school like if it was someone’s bd or it was a holiday & the class would have a lil party, I would be sent to a different room by myself & sometimes even if I was in the little parties, I couldn’t eat the cake or whatever cus my parents told me I would basically be eating evil energy into me. Even if I would bring it home, they would throw it away & shit. I never understood why Mother’s Day was bad growing up like I would make my moms a Mother’s Day card but she would just throw it away & say it’s bad cus Mother’s Day should be everyday like wow. It’s not that serious. So when Mother’s Day came up, I would say I could make the card but I won’t get to take it home cus my mom won’t appreciate it or anything so there was no point. Idk. Anyways bruh I really be talking out my ass but anyways where was I even at. Chicago & Miami but yeah Miami is way too hot so no. Umm like maybe 3-4 years ago I was really into Canada for a minute because of the buildings & my police show was made in Canada & the vibes of the show & the view of Canada… brb

[firstumcschenectady]

“Rebuilding after Trauma” based on Psalm 18:2-11, 16-19 and Isaiah 62:1-7

I picked the wordiest readings ever this week. They're awfully hard to keep in focus. I'm sorry. They're just so lovely though, that I couldn't help myself. They are texts that talk about rebuilding after traumatic events, about God's power and grace being enough to bring hope when it looks lost. They have imagery of healing and regrowth.

They talk again and again about salvation and delivery, and it seems like a good time to claims those words in their Biblical strength and power. Salvation comes from the same root as “salve.” To be saved is to be healed. Delivery has connotations of birth and passing through a narrow place to get to safety and wholeness. Both words are used throughout the Bible to indicate God's actions for God's people. God moves the people to healing, to wholeness, to safety. God liberates. God heals. God creates safe places for liberation and healing to occur.

If you, like me, have had a little bit too much exposure to the Christian fundamentalist narrative that salvation is about being saved from hell, I invite you to lay it down. Let it go. We aren't talking about that.

In fact, Isaiah is talking about restoring the community of ancient Israel. Piecing together those who had been left behind in the unprotected lands with those who had been force marched into exile, and finding connection and wholeness again. Isaiah is talking about the horrors of violence, the battles and destruction of Jerusalem and that they DO NOT GET to define the people any longer. “No more shall your land be called Devastated; but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her”. Wow!

The Psalm presents itself as being more about an individual, which it may be. Sometimes it is hard to tell in the Bible if an individual is an individual or a way about talking about a group as a whole. It doesn't really matter though, the truths hold in it either way. The Psalmist expresses trust in God “The Rock Who Gave Me Birth is my rock” and then goes on pretty quickly to mention that things are not going well. “The snares of death encompassed me”, etc. The Psalmist called out to God for help, and experienced God listening and responding.

I wonder if there is something important there. The Psalm goes into quite a lot of detail about the strength of God's response. God heard, God cared, God responded – and the earth SHOOK. When any of us is responding to trauma, being reminded that God is, that God cares, and that God can help matters a lot. There is isolation and powerlessness that keep trauma in place, but the reminder of God's presence and care can change that reality quite dramatically.

Finally, the Psalmist says God simply plucked them up out of the danger and set them down somewhere safe, ending with “she delivered me because she delights in me.” What a profound conclusion.

A definition of trauma that I find quite useful is, “Exposure to an event which was perceived as intensely threatening to mind, body, or spirit, accompanied by feelings of helplessness, powerlessness and horror.”1 You'll note there are two part to this definition: a threatening event and a sense that one couldn't do anything about it. It is also worth noting that the PERCEPTION of the threat is the key, not the reality of it. AND that the threat can be to mind, body, or spirit.

Trauma is incredibly common in our lives. Adverse Childhood Experience Studies look at 10 common traumatic experiences (abuse, neglect, family dysfunction) and find that 60-65% of adults experienced at least one traumatic event in childhood. So MOST people. Most people were seriously harmed in their childhoods. The prevalence of childhood trauma has dramatic effects on physical and mental health over the course of a lifetime. And, of course, traumatic events occur in adult lives too.

A particularly notable one would be a global pandemic. Where there are threats to physical well-being in the form of the virus, AND mental and spiritual well-being in the form of separation.

Clearly, there are a wide variety of experiences in the pandemic and experiences of the pandemic. Some people have experienced far more trauma in the pandemic than others. Yet, we have each experienced some trauma, and we have had a COLLECTIVE trauma. It may even be that we are still in the midst of experiencing collective trauma. (I think it is hard to tell for sure.)

While trauma has incredible impact on bodies, minds, and souls, it is important to pay attention as well to resiliency factors. Because the impact of trauma is CHANGED by the presence of resilience. Things like: supportive friends, ways to engage with community, people to look up to, a sense of purpose, feeling valued, a sense of competency, opportunities for play. In my reading on trauma and resilience I've been struck by how UTTERLY IMPERATIVE mirroring is.

Mirroring are ways that people consciously or subconsciously reflect or “mirror” the emotions and feelings and aspirations of another. This has the impact of validating, accepting, and showing love for that person. (Generally when it comes to anger or outbursts mirroring is less useful, but naming emotions can still help a lot.)2 Mirroring gets a lot of attention in terms of parenting, but let's be real for a moment: for the adults in the room, a lot of life is about self-parenting ourselves and supporting others in their capacity to do the same. We have have emotions, feelings, aspirations and needs, and sometimes we all need some help in accepting them and finding them valid. Sometimes we can do it ourselves (regulating!) sometimes we do it best with others (co-regulating!) and most of the time its a mix.

Mirroring and regulating feel central to these Biblical passages about delivery from trauma, salvation after trauma, restoration to a full and abundant life. In Isaiah God names the ways the community feels. It is heard and acknowledged. It isn't dismissed. God is even named as “God who sees.” The ways the community has experienced the exile are spoken by GOD. The hope doesn't come out of the abstract, it meets the people where they are.

In the Psalm first we hear the distress of the one who is struggling and then we hear the ways God responds. Perhaps you need to hear this too, so keeping in mind the traumas of the past 3 years or so, see how it feels to hear this as God's response to the struggles you've lived through:

Then the earth shuddered and quaked;

the foundations also of the mountains trembled

and were shaken because of her anger.

Smoke went up from her mouth;

burning coals blazed forth from her.

She spread out the heavens, and descended;

thick darkness was under her feet.

She mounted up on a cherub and flew;

she soared upon the wings of the wind.

She made darkness her veil around her,

her canopy dark waters and thick clouds.

She reached down from on high, she took me;

she drew me out of the multitude of water.

She delivered from from my strong enemy,

and from those who hate me;

for they were too mighty for me.

Wow!

Well, I feel less alone, and less frightened by my finitude with God responding like THAT! (Also, I rather like that the “enemies” aren't attacked, rather the Psalmist is simply placed out of their reach.)

The Psalmist brings fear and heartache, and FEELS God mirroring, responding, helping, empowering, and bringing them to safety. The whole earth shakes and God starts the process of rebuilding their life after the trauma.

In Isaiah, too, the trauma is acknowledged in the mirroring, and other healing starts too. There is dreaming, hoping, reframing, renaming, reconnecting. Trauma happens in human lives, individually and collectively, but trauma isn't the last word. God doesn't give up on us when we're struggling, God sees and hears, mirrors and responds, and helps us find the skills to regulate. God works to bring us to safe places. God delights in us, EVEN when we are broken by the trauma of our lives.

We don't have to be healed, or whole, or trauma free to be loved. God doesn't expect that of us. God sees and hears, mirrors and responds, loves and hopes. Trauma doesn't have the final word, love and hope do. That is, God does. Amen

1https://resolutioncounselling.ca/resolution-articles/nature-impacts-trauma/

2Adapted from https://www.enlivenminds.org/parental-mirroring/

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

January 22, 2023

[fantastic-nonsense]

absolutely obsessed with how Kanej is a friends-to-lovers relationship where their broken pieces fit together and complement each other in a way that is nearly impossible to achieve with anyone else in their lives

We get several fun little tidbits of Kaz and Inej's pre-canon relationship sprinkled throughout the books, and it's honestly fascinating how Bardugo did the best she could to scream "they're best friends!" without outright saying so.

We know that Kaz gave Inej her first knife and personally trained her ("Kaz taught her to crack a safe, pick a pocket, wield a knife"). We know that Inej regularly spent time in Kaz's room doing everything from giving reports while watching him casually undress (lol) to lounging on his windowsill while he worked. We know they stole the DeKappel together. The literal second chapter of SoC mentions that they "spent weeks" playing Buzzfeed Unsolved about the Exchange murder case. And we get these delightful throwaway lines too:

In nearly two years of battling side by side with Kaz, of late-night scheming, impossible heists, clandestine errands, and harried meals of fried potatoes and hutspot gobbled down as they rushed from one place to another, this was the first time she had touched him skin to skin, without the barrier of gloves or coat or shirtsleeve. -Ch. 28, SoC

Kaz had rescued her from that hopelessness, and their lives had been a series of rescues ever since, a string of debts that they never tallied as they saved each other again and again. -Ch. 4, CK

But I’m here now, he thought wildly. He had carried her, fought beside her, spent whole nights next to her, both of them on their bellies, peering through a long glass, watching some warehouse or merch’s mansion. This was nothing like that. -Ch. 26, CK

Like...they're besties, y'all. Inej became the one constant in Kaz's life and she gets him on a level that no one else does. Meanwhile, Kaz manages to always see Inej even though she's crafted her entire persona on being invisible. Jesper may be Kaz's brother and Nina may be Inej's sister but Kaz and Inej are each other's best friend, and the bond of all those shared experiences are a big part why they fall in love with each other.

That bond also deeply informs how they interact with each other throughout the books. Kaz and Inej are in some ways custom-built for yearning and pining and loving from a distance because of their pasts and mutual trauma, and there aren't very many other people who could understand how that trauma affects them and what healing looks like. The reciprocity of that understanding and the allowances they give each other because of it is a genuine rarity that I don't think many people appreciate, especially in a relationship weighed down by that much mutual baggage.

Kaz can't touch skin and Inej often walks on metaphorical eggshells due to the fear of her skin being touched. And while their trauma comes from dramatically different places, they both react to it similarly: by becoming "untouchable," keeping most people at a distance, and laser-focusing on a personal goal. Even their PTSD manifests in similar ways: Kaz physically and psychologically feels like he's drowning when he's triggered, but Inej dissociates and retreats inside herself, drowning within her own mind.

But as traumatized as they both are, as angry and stubborn and mean as they can both be with each other, they're each other's safe harbor in a very lonely and dangerous world that dealt them both a shitty hand; relying on and trusting each other helped keep them afloat and alive. So they're willing to let each other go even if it kills them inside, because they have too much personal respect for each other and themselves to do anything different...but they're willing to fight for each other too, and that's what makes them click in a way that would be insanely difficult to accomplish with any other person.

Kaz and Inej don't really want to become more whole for each other, though that's part of it, but they absolutely want to become more whole because of each other. They want each other, physically and emotionally. They can't necessarily have each other at first because of their mutual trauma, but they're also both willing to a) fight for the chance to be together and b) give each other the space, time, and freedom to heal on their own terms, because they both fundamentally respect the other as a person and friend...which is the solid foundation that enables them to eventually come together and succeed as a couple.

Anyway nothing says "this ship is for yearning" like the boy who can't stand physical touch and the girl who escaped from sex slavery, both of whom are deeply traumatized by their pasts but see each other as bringing safety and magic into their world. We simply have no choice but to stan.

[selfhelpforghosts]

I recently started EMDR, and I'd like to talk about my experience with it a bit for anyone who may be curious. I will avoid graphic descriptions of anything potentially triggering, but I do briefly mention abuse, self harm, suicidal thoughts, and my diagnoses. I will also be referring to my therapist as "M" from here on out for the sake of ease and privacy.

(If you already know what EMDR is and how it works, feel free to skip to the next paragraph.) EMDR is a type of therapy that aims to help people heal from distressing memories/events from their lives, and is a widely recognized treatment for trauma. It works by having the client focus on certain things in their mind while they have what's called "bilateral stimulation." Most often, this takes the form of following the therapist's hand or a pointer back and forth with their eyes, but it can also involve things like alternately tapping each leg or holding a buzzer in each hand that alternate gently vibrating one at a time. For reasons that are believed to be loosely connected the mechanisms involved in REM sleep, this aids the brain in processing through and healing from difficult memories.

Now, I'd like to preface this by saying that my experience is by no means the pinnacle of what EMDR is like, nor is the way my therapist goes about it the only or even the best way - it's simply how I've experienced this and what we've found works for me. That said, I highly recommend looking into EMDR if you are someone with trauma or anything in your past that causes you pain. When I started EMDR, I had been with my therapist for over a year at that point and done quite a bit of work already. What's needed will differ for everyone, but I needed help exiting survival mode and laying the groundwork of coping skills, knowledge about my own inner workings, and learning to place trust in a clinical professional again. At first, my therapist went over her process for EMDR, answered my questions, and made sure that she felt I was ready to try it. EMDR can be very taxing due to its nature of asking people to relive their worst memories, but the end result is a dramatic decrease in the distress that those memories cause someone.

We started with the "least awful" memories for me. Things that I still found upsetting and even traumatic, but the ones that caused me the least amount of distress to think about at that time. I'm going to use a fake example memory to describe the process - let's say that I processed the memory of losing my spoon while on lunch at work. First, M asked me to give her a "snapshot" of the memory/the worst part of the memory. If I were to summarize it with a picture, what would it look like? For our example, let's say that an image of me bent over and digging through my backpack for the spoon on the floor of the break room is our snapshot. She then asked me to hold that picture in my mind and rate my distress level about that memory (how much pain it causes me to think about in the present day) from a scale of one (1) to ten (10). After that, she asked me to come up with a "safety device" that, if the memory were to become overwhelming, I could use to protect myself and feel less distressed. There's no wrong answers to this question, but for this example we'll say that the safety device is a magic spoon that will appear out of nowhere so that I have one.

Then, M gave me a list of possible negative cognitions (thoughts/beliefs), and told me to tell her which one (or a different one if not on the list) the event made me feel about myself, what emotions that and the event caused, and where in my body I felt those emotions. For this example, the negative cognition will be "I am stupid [for losing my spoon]," and the emotions are anxiety and self-hatred felt in my chest. After that, I was asked to choose a positive cognition (either from a list or a different one) that I would like to believe instead. For this, it'll be "I am not at fault [for losing my spoon]." I was then asked to rate how true that positive cognition felt on a scale from one (1) to ten (10). Finally, I was asked to hold in my mind the snapshot and negative cognition along with the emotions that I felt in my chest, and she began doing a set of eye movements. I would follow a small metal stick/pointer back and forth for anywhere from fifteen (15) seconds to around two (2) minutes. During this, I would let my brain sort of go where it wanted to while focusing on the memory. For me, I am often suddenly able to remember more details about what happened, how I felt about it/what I was thinking at the time, and why exactly I may have felt the way that I did.

After that set of eye movements, M asked me to tell her where my brain went. I'd explain and she'd listen and offer input or help explaining/analyzing if I wanted it. For the example, we'll say that I recalled how earlier in the day, I'd specifically thought to myself to be careful not to lose the spoon, and that I was upset with myself for doing it anyway. After this, M would pick something that came up to focus on for the next set of eye movements to see where my brain went. So she would ask me to think about how I was mad at myself for losing the spoon anyway, and to follow that train of thought. Then, she would have me for another set of eye movements back and forth. This pattern would continue a few times while I worked through the memory and its associated thoughts and feelings, and she would guide me through it. If at any point it became too distressing, all I needed to do was hold up a hand and we would stop immediately and, depending on the circumstances, she would remind me of my safety device and help me calm down. If I was having trouble focusing or my brain was going in odd directions, she'd help me tune into something and work with that. In an example like the spoon, I likely would've come to the realization (either with her help or during eye movement) that I felt so awful about it because I subconsciously believed that losing the spoon was a personal failure on my part and diminished my worth as a person.

After a few repetitions of the eye movement pattern, I would usually eventually sort of run out of relevant things that my brain was coming up with. At this point, M would ask me my distress level again, and then ask how true the positive cognition felt and if it had changed at all since we started. If the number was still very low (meaning that the positive belief did not feel very true), she'd ask if I knew why that was and if there was perhaps something preventing it from being true. She'd then have me do another set of eye movements while focusing on that question and my answer if I was able to give one. I would also be asked to picture the snapshot in my mind again while thinking the positive cognition, and potentially saying it out loud. And so the cycle repeats again - the idea is to slowly change the association your brain has with the memory and make it into something less upsetting. That way, when I think about this memory in the future, my brain no longer goes to "I am stupid," but rather "I am not at fault." This process would also likely be done again or in conjunction with asking about my distress level.

When we've gotten the distress level as low as we can and my belief in the positive cognition as high as we can, that's typically the end of the bulk of the session. The numbers for those might not be perfect, though, and that's okay. The goal is just to get them as close as possible, and then through other work and more EMDR addressing related things, the numbers will naturally get better. At the end, we'll wrap up a bit, she'll ask if I have any notes, questions, or concerns, and she'll remind me of any coping skills I may need until I see her again. If for whatever reason we weren't able to fully complete the memory in the session, she'll guide me through a quick exercise where I visualize putting the memory and its associated emotions and thoughts into a secure box and tucking it away to access next time. This helps prevent me from becoming overwhelmed by the memory over the next week.

Still, even if the session was a complete success, I will still feel very tired and drained afterwards - or even upset. EMDR is hard, and it is absolutely a lot of work. After a session, it's important to be lenient with yourself and to practice self-care. I do my sessions at the end of my day so I don't have to worry about any obligations, and I usually just go home and curl up with some tea and a comfort show or something similar. Over the next week, I may have more things pop up in relation to the memory, which I'll send M a quick email about. I may also find myself having less energy even for a few days after the session, which is normal.

All of that said, I've found EMDR to be 100% completely worth it. For the memories we've tackled, it's made them exponentially less upsetting and, in a few cases, even empowering. I can now think and talk about those things without making myself super upset or feeling triggered, and they don't bring up a sea of negative emotions anymore. For most of them, they just...exist. For a few, I'll feel slight twinges of sadness, but they're more akin to how you might feel thinking about a sad book - nowhere near how they used to make me feel. EMDR might sound like it's a bit weird or even like it's just pseudoscience, but there've been a huge number of studies on the therapy that have all found it to be incredibly effective for most people. Obviously it's like anything else and won't be for everyone, and that's okay. If you're interested in EMDR, it's important to both do your research on your therapist and to listen to your gut/not disregard any red flags. But, done properly by the right person, it has the potential to change your life and greatly increase your quality of life. It already has for me, and I've only been doing it for 2-3 months; I do have extensive trauma and a dissociative disorder, though, so for some people that timeline may be much shorter.

If anyone has any questions at all, please feel free to send asks. I would love to answer questions and/or talk more about this if anyone is interested or is curious about anything else. If you stuck with me this far, thank you for reading, and I hope this was helpful!

[sokkastyles]

I’ve talked about this before, but I need to emphasize that Zuko working in the tea shop is a huge part of his arc and development. It wasn’t just something that lasted only a few episodes that he hated and then moved on from, it’s something that is threaded throughout his arc and into the finale. 

Of course he’s not happy for a large part of the time he’s working there in book two. He’s a traumatized teenager who is desperately trying to achieve the approval of his father so that he can go back to the home he was banished from. Iroh tries to make the best of things in part because Iroh genuinely enjoys it and making the best of a bad situation is just who he is, but he also wants Zuko to be happy and wants to make the best life for his nephew that he can, and he knows that Zuko needs positivity and security in his life, as well as tries to nurture in Zuko an appreciation for the small things in life and an attitude of service. It is hardly surprising that Zuko is resistant to this, though.

Zuko complains even more when he and Iroh are presented with new opportunities, because he doesn’t want to accept the possibility of growth in this new life.

Iroh: Did you hear, nephew? This man wants to give us our own tea shop in the Upper Ring of the city!

Quon: That's right, young man, your life is about to change for the better!

Zuko: [Sarcastically.] I'll try to contain my joy. [Walks outside, slams door shut.]

Zuko spends seven episodes working in the tea shop in a twenty episode season. It runs through his entire Ba Sing Se arc. He grumbles, groans, and complains through most of it.

Iroh: So, I was thinking about names for my new tea shop. How about the Jasmine Dragon? It's dramatic, poetic, has a nice ring to it.

Zuko: [Shows Iroh the flyer.] The Avatar is here in Ba Sing Se and he's lost his bison.

Iroh: [Grabs the flyer.] We have a chance for a new life here. [Cut to Zuko looking out a window.] If you start stirring up trouble, we could lose all the good things that are happening for us.

Zuko: [Turns to Iroh.] Good things that are happening for you! Have you ever thought that I want more from life than a nice apartment and a job serving tea?

Iroh: There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity. I suggest you think about what it is that you want from your life and why.

Zuko: I want my destiny.

Iroh: What that means is up to you. 

Zuko’s time in the tea shop is part of his arc of discovering that he can choose his own destiny, and although he didn’t choose to live as a refugee, he can choose what he makes of it, which is what Iroh is trying to teach him here. Part of that is choosing to accept Iroh’s love, choosing to appreciate the good things instead of wishing for something that he doesn’t have, and we know that Zuko’s desire to go back to being the prince of the Fire Nation and earn his father’s affection is ultimately empty, and part of a life where he was abused, as well as where he was a part of a system that was oppressing others.

Then Zuko refuses Iroh’s advice about accepting a simple life in favor of pursuing Appa as the Blue Spirit - an identity that represents Zuko’s internal conflict between his fractured self image, which in book two involves him using the Blue Spirit identity to steal, to get back a part of the old life which he’s lost. It is extremely painful for him to admit that trying to get back to who he was before his banishment is causing him to engage in self-destructive behaviors that are stagnating his growth. Iroh just wants him to be safe and happy but he also knows that Zuko has to confront this conflict within himself.

That’s why, after he frees Appa, he must throw away the Blue Spirit mask once and for all, symbolically letting go of his desire to go back to the Fire Nation.

Iroh: You did the right thing, nephew. Leave it behind.

Giving up the past is never easy. Especially giving up the ideas he’s held onto for so long, the idea of what he can one day get back that, as Iroh said in book one, had kept Zuko going through his banishment, that gave him hope. But part of creating your own destiny is realizing that you can find hope in places you didn’t think you could find it. Zuko has to find something else to put his hope in and that’s represented physically by the sickness he suffers after freeing Appa. His entire sense of self has been shaken to the core, because change, real change, is hard.

Iroh: You should know that this is not a natural sickness, but that shouldn't stop you from enjoying tea.

Zuko: What's happening?

Iroh: Your critical decision. What you did beneath that lake. It was in such conflict with our image of yourself that you are now at war within your own mind and body. 

Zuko: What's that mean?

Iroh: You are going through a metamorphosis, my nephew. It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be.

Tea even makes an appearance during Zuko’s “metamorphosis,” because the tea is symbolic, y’all. Then when Zuko wakes up from his sickness, we see an immediate change in him.

Iroh: Now that your fever is gone, you seem different somehow.

Zuko: [Optimistically.] It's a new day. We've got a new apartment, new furniture, and today's the grand opening of your new tea shop. Things are looking up, Uncle.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that Zuko has suddenly decided that he loves serving tea and working customer service, but the change he’s experienced is about choosing to find the good, to accept change into his life, to accept humility, and love. And this is the most happy we’ve ever seen Zuko be. We also see him emotionally supporting Iroh and working on his relationship with his uncle because he knows that seeing Zuko happy makes Iroh happy. Before, Zuko made a big show of his unhappiness, slamming doors and frowning and shouting and generally acting like a spoiled teenager with major authority issues, which made Iroh visibly upset. Iroh constantly tries to get Zuko to change his attitude but in the end it’s something that Zuko has to choose himself.

Iroh: Who thought when we came to this city as refugees, that I'd end up owning my own tea shop? Follow your passion, Zuko, and life will reward you.

Zuko: Congratulations, Uncle.

Iroh: I am very thankful.

Zuko: You deserve it. The Jasmine Dragon will be the best tea shop in the city.

Iroh: No. I'm thankful because you decided to share this special day with me. It means more than you know.

Zuko: Now let's make these people some tea! 

This is more than just Zuko being happy for Iroh or trying to be happy because Iroh wants him to be happy. We see the idea repeated here that you can choose your own destiny, and that those who do are rewarded by life. This is also echoed in Zuko’s conversation with Katara in which he tells her that lately he has realized that he is free to choose what he makes of the scars of his past, and his future. We also see him practicing what Iroh told him, he lets go of shame by letting go of pride. Instead of talking about what he thinks he deserves, he talks about what Iroh deserves. The dialogue also indicates that Zuko chose to be there.

This development is emphasized when Zuko and Iroh are invited to serve tea to the Earth King.

Iroh: I ... I can't believe it!

Zuko: What is it, Uncle?

Iroh: Great news! We've been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!

Zuko goes from “step aside, filth!” and complaining about doing work to smiling about serving tea to the king of a rival nation. That’s character development. And as I said before, it was essential to Zuko’s development in becoming the kind of Fire Lord that he is supposed to be.

The dramatic irony of Katara finding them and unintentionally ratting them out to Azula is that when Katara enters the tea shop, she finds not only a Zuko in a tea apron, but a happy one enthusiastically taking people’s orders.

Zuko: Uncle! I need two jasmine, one green, and one lychee!

Iroh: I'm brewing as fast as I can!

I love this scene so much because it’s like, imagine that you decide to go to Panera Bread and you find Kylo Ren working at the counter, cheerfully asking you if you want chips or an apple with that. It’s also hilarious that Katara’s immediate thought is they’re infiltrating the city when she knows that there’s an evil force of brainwashing government agents lurking about.

That Zuko genuinely found peace with his life in Ba Sing Se is narratively important because it makes what happens next even harder for him. “The Crossroads of Destiny” is a true crossroads because he’s fought hard to find happiness and hope in his new life, but then it’s all ripped away and he’s put to the test. That he fails it this time just emphasizes how hard it is to break free of old destructive habits.

This is why when he does go back to the Fire Nation, we’re shown his doubts, and how uncomfortable he is. He tries to be happy and to accept his role as prince, but he already knows that this is not the destiny he wants for himself. The excessive opulence of the Fire Nation is meant to show this. We see this in scenes like Zuko constantly being unhappy during the beach episode and becoming angry when he is told to relax and do nothing, and his insecurity at the party in a room full of rich kids. 

In particular, we see him being uncomfortable being waited on by servants in “Nightmares and Daydreams”:

Servant #1: Fresh fruit, Prince Zuko?

Zuko puts out his hand and shakes his head respectfully.

Servant #2: May I wash your feet, sir?

Zuko respectfully puts his hand out and shakes his head again.

Servant #1: Head massage?

Zuko shakes his head again.

Servant #2: Hot towel?

Zuko looks at the towels for a moment and takes one. He is seen wiping his forehead before walking out of the room. The two servants bow behind him. Zuko walks out the palace gates, with Fire Nation citizens waiting for him.

Servant #1: Prince Zuko, is something wrong? You didn't take the palanquin.

Zuko: I'm just going to Mai's house. It's not far.

Servant #1: It's not a prince's place to walk anywhere, sir.

Zuko looks to the distance, walks over, and gets into the palanquin.

We see him trying to fit in with Mai because he’s a sixteen year old who has a girlfriend for the first time in his life and he wants to impress her, but what this scene actually shows is their differing values.

Zuko: Tell me, if you could have anything you want right now, what would it be?

Mai: Hm ... A big fancy fruit tart, with rose petals on top.

Zuko: You know, being a prince and all, I might just be able to make that happen.

Mai: That would be impressive.

Zuko: [To the servants.] Do you think you could find a fresh fruit tart for the lady, with rose petals on top?

Servant: Excellent choice, sir.

Mai: I guess there's some nice perks that come with being royalty. [Pushing Zuko to lay down with her.] Though there's annoying stuff, too. Like that all-day war meeting coming up.

Zuko: [Sitting up, followed by Mai.] War meeting? What are you talking about?

Mai: Azula mentioned something. I-I assumed you were going, too.

Zuko: I guess I wasn't invited.

The two look away from each other.

Zuko asks Mai what she would want if she could have anything and what she comes up with is fruit tarts. This doesn’t necessarily mean that Mai is shallow, but what it does mean is that she’s never had to worry about what she wants in terms of the big picture.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

She’s also never had to go hungry like Zuko has, and never had to serve others like Zuko has.

And then she brings up the war meeting, which to her is only an annoyance. Zuko doesn’t care about fruit tarts and palanquin rides, but this is something he cares about. It’s also funny to me that Mai is like “make out time,” and let’s be real, nobody would fault Zuko, a sixteen year old boy, for enjoying a little hanky panky, but Zuko is like “no, anxiety time!” Which shows how much he’s changed and how much he is struggling to be happy despite all the fruit tarts and hot towels and having a girlfriend who is all over him.

It is NOT a coincidence that when Zuko joins the gaang, we see him genuinely happy and among friends and making and serving tea.

Zuko had to go back to the Fire Nation to really understand how much he had changed and to really be able to choose his own destiny, but we know which one he chooses, between a life of empty riches and a life helping others. Even when we see him addressing the people as Fire Lord, his speech is all about service and humility. When the crowd cheers for him, he does this:

Zuko: Please. The real hero is the Avatar.

Which shows how far he’s come from the boy who so desperately wanted recognition, who was repulsed by the idea of serving others or lowering himself to the status of a “peasant,” who only thought of himself and what he deserved. His last scene is not his coronation, not his triumphant moment of standing in front of a crowd as Fire Lord, or even confronting his father, but a quiet moment, serving tea to his friends.

[mesozoic-system]

Bakugou Katsuki is not as bad as he seems.

Okay, fine. That's a lie. Bakugou is a loud and obnoxious asshole with little to no character development and will snap at anyone who breathes on him the wrong way.

Now that that's out of the way, let's move on to why he's like that.

You all know what PTSD is, yeah? If not, it stands for "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder". It's something that causes panic attacks, unnecessary aggression, trust issues, nightmares, anxiety, depression, and more. People will develop it after a traumatic experience. It takes years of therapy to recover... actually, most people never recover from it.

Fun fact: Katsuki canonically has PTSD. It's confirmed, and you know what? After everything he's been through, it's not much of a surprise. He's been through one tragedy after another and never seems to get a break.

When we first met Bakugou Mitsuki (Katsuki's mother) in chapter #96, we instantly realized how aggressive she was. I mean come on! She talked smack right in front of him and his teachers- in front of All Might who she knew her son was very fond of. Katsuki may be irritable, but to have your own mother backhand you in front of your own role model is a little much.

Later on in chapter #165 during the Provisual License Exams, we get a little more information that only points towards more abuse- and this time it's not so verbal.

Most people paid no real attention nor gave it a second thought in these panels, but remember when Katsuki suggested to use violence against the kids? Of course, you'd look at it and wave it off as "normal Bakugou behavior", but what he says next took me by surprise:

That's right. He was raised that way.

Which means either Mitsuki or Masaru (or both) had struck him in some way multiple times as he was growing up, and I doubt it was Masaru.

"Spoiled" my ass. He might have a strong quirk, but people don't turn into little monsters just by being praised. It'll definely boost his confidence, but not dramatically. This could also explain his aggression toward Midoriya. He realized how helpless he was and had power over someone else for once. But that's just a theory.

Okay, let's fast forward a bit. He's finishing up his third year of Middle School and is preparing for the UA entrance exams. He's pushed away his childhood friend to follow his own dreams and tells him to jump off the roof.

Literally.

And then he walks out the door only to regret it much, much, muuuch later in the series- y'know. The "character development" I was talking about.

Next time we see him though, he gets what he deserves.

One panel he's tramping through an alley with his friends, and the next, he's being swallowed alive by the most perverted-looking slime monster I've ever laid my eyes on.

While Izuku's dreams are being crushed by his own hero, Katsuki is fighting for his life in the middle of town. He's struggling, but all he could do was look back at all the dozens of fearful eyes...

Right there. Right now. Look at him:

He's terrified. He's humiliated and afraid and hurt and despite all of the heroes that were there, none of them had even attempted to save him.

And this is where it really starts. This is where it all begins. Next thing we know, Izuku's running straight for him... The boy Katsuki's bullied almost all of his life is risking his own in order to save him.

You know the story from there; All Might trains Izuku to withhold his power, they get accepted into UA, and then comes the Sports Festival.

Katsuki's already made up his mind: he's gonna win. He's willing to give everything he has to show the country what he's made of, and this may be his only chance to make up for the mishap several months ago. And Monoma, being a professional at making things worse by opening his mouth, rubs salt in the wound.

It was pretty easy to predict Katsuki's reaction: pissed off and more than ready to prove him wrong. He does, but it cost him his "first place" during the Calvary Battle. But that's okay 'cuz it's not over yet!

Welcome to the next and last stage of the festival: The Battle Tournament, where all the kids get to beat the shit out of each other until only one remains.

Turns out, Katsuki does win. It was a foolproof plan: get Todoroki to go all out on him so he can make a final impression before the end of the day. But it was obvious that Shouto was still unsure of himself, so Katsuki did what he did best:

He had to piss him off.

But instead of getting angry and bursting into flames like he had planned, Shouto threw away the battle at the last second, and everything Katsuki had worked for with it.

No shit he's gonna be upset! He worked his ass off to get where he was, and the whole point was to leave himself a footprint! His entire life had been dedicated to that moment, and it faded away right in front of him.

Midnight put him to sleep and he woke up and threw a temper tantrum.

Now this is was UA did wrong:

Why would you do that?! They were all aware of what happened to him only a few months ago, he obviously hasn't properly recovered from it, and they restrain him in front of thousands of people. They cover his mouth and gag him, lock his hands in a tiny metal box and expect him not to go insane. Helloooo?! Wake up! He's just a kid!

Several months go by and now it's time for camp. Katsuki is tired. They all are. It's been a long day of training and training and training, and suddenly villains come out of nowhere, and nobody is prepared. And who shows up? The League of Villains, and they're after certain students...

Tokoyami escapes safely, but Katsuki isn't so lucky.

Just think about that for a second. When we see Shigaraki holding a picture of him, it's the one where UA tied him up. He knows what this child has gone through and he pities him. To be honest, I think the LoV treated him much better than anyone ever has (except maybe Kirishima). They're hesitant, but they treat him with kindness. They didn't just want him for his quirk. They saw what the heroes did to him and wanted to help him get the revenge he deserved.

But when All Might showed up (more like "burst through the wall like the Cool Aid man"), Katsuki is instantly teleported in the strangest way possible... and the most traumatizing.

He chokes out this weird slime-like substance that devours him within seconds. Thankfully it only last that long, but then again, the Sludge Incident, remember?

Yeah, bet that brings back some memories.

But what must have hurt him the most was All Might's downfall and early retirement. He said it himself:

After several chapters, he finally burst. He's been holding all the pain inside of him until it bubbled over and he couldn't take it anymore. So he went to the only person he could- the person he hated and yet trusted the most.

Maybe the Class 1A concert helped him in a way. It seemed like it brought him down and maybe even relaxed him a little. And something incredible happens. Something we haven't seen from him at all until now...

(From here, I'll try to keep it short to avoid as many manga spoilers as I can. That and I'm tired...)

He began to change; started to support Izuku... in his own twisted way, of course. As chapters went by, he started to open up little by little. He admitted what he had done to Izuku in middle school to All Might, which had brought him some peace of mind. It wasn't quite the apology we had hoped for, but I guess it'll do.

And during the war, he made the greatest sacrifice, finally unlocking his quirk's full potential. Despite being unable to move, he used his quirk to throw himself in front of Izuku without thinking, taking a blow to his stomach. To his stomach.

He was impaled.

Holy shit.

Last time someone had been impaled was Nighteye, and he died from his wounds.

But Katsuki somehow managed to survive... And woke up ready to beat Izuku's ass if he didn't wake up.

Anyway, that's all I have to say (so far). However, I'm excited for Season 5 of the anime series! Can't wait to see our new story animated! I mean, I've been watching the episodes as they come out, but still.

-Blightcon

[someone-always-cares]

bonus 2, post chapter 4

first - previous - next

[image  description: an sac webcomic page. 5 pages styled in a manner similar to a medical brochure titled “navigating your new abilities, what does this mean for me?”. the brochure is about superpowers, what the are, side effects and health risks, and job oppurtunities. the brochure has white and light blue for the main colours, with a dark purple accent. page 1: mostly showing a girl transforming, with the title listed above, with smaller text reading “created and supported by the paragon institute for superheroism.” the girl is a younger white woman who has a light purple colour scheme, long straight hair and bangs, a crop top, and elbow pads. shes shown from the waist up, half her body and an arm cut out of the photo. her transformation takes the form of dripping black-purple goop spreading, with a starry texture. a similar texture takes up the image background.

page 2: title: what are superpowers?. “Superpower is a term used for superpowered abilities that go beyond the natural abilities and conventional laws of reality. There are little limits to the potential types of abilities that a super powered person may possess.

It is currently unknown what causes superpowered abilities. Despite many theories, the only known way to guarantee superpowers is to inherit them from a parent.

London has the highest percentage of superpowered people in the entire world, in addition to having 42% of all supers in the united kingdom”

next to this text is a grinning woman in pink winking while posing with one hand on her hip, and the other in a fist held up. the woman has long wavy pale pink hair, light brown skin, many freckles, and hot pink eyes. her outfit is a pink dress and gloves, pale pink tattered cape, and a hot pink long sleeved undershirt.

“how do i use and control my abilities? Superpowered people will typically have an innate sense for how to transform and use their abilities,but like any skill it will take time and effort to fully control their abilities.

In some rare cases, a superpowered person may lack control over their powers to the extent where it can cause harm to those around them.

This is most common in those who have inherited their abilities. In these cases the P.I.S offers programs to assist these people in learning control with 24/7 care and supervision. If you or someone you know requires these programs, please call our number or otherwise contact us via our website.

Due to the range of superpowered abilities, there is no one-size-fits-all method of developing control, however, the P.I.S do offer training services, of which you can read more about atwww.pis.uk/pis-services/training

next to this is a teenage superhero, an androgynous boy with a grey colour scheme, smiling slightly, his arm turning into smoke. he has light grey hair and eyes, brown skin and a dark grey bodysuit. he has a grey poncho/cape conbo and gloves, both of which are lined with light grey fleece or fur. his outfit looks as if is was meant for cold weather.

page 3: what are some other symptoms of superpowered abilities? Superpowers are also accompanied by complete transformations, including bodily and outfit transformations. Body transformations will include a change of eye and hair colour, but can also include a wide variety of changes, commonly including changes to eyes, ears, and hands, animal-like features, changes in shape, colour, additional limbs and features, and more.

below that is 5 examples, inside circles with a white border: a close up of an eye, all blue including sclera, the pupil is pale and slit like a cat. next is a close up of a green haired braid. next if also from behind, a red haired person with red wings, the longest feathers of which are white. while the last three arent of any known character, the latter two are wraith, shown from behind, only showing hair and a cape, and part of an arm, and quartz, a close up of his elf-like ear.

Outfit transformations are even more varied in appearance, and will typically be in various shades of the persons 'main' colour. It is common for the outfit to contain additional accessories, tools, and weapons. Electronic devices created from these transformations do not need recharging and if using internet or data, will use the strongest available signal to do so. It is illegal to create, use, or otherwise have in the open, a weapon in public without a registered superhero licence.

The act of transformation will vary from person to person, but will usually involve a bright light, and is likely to reflect the user's powers of their effects. In the case of those inheriting their abilities, they will inherit body traits and transformations from any and all superpowered ancestors.

The effects of a transformation will likely change through a superpowered person's lifetime. A change will usually happen after a dramatic change in the person's personality, ideals, traumatic incident, or other life development, although a change is not guaranteed, and will rarely occur without these.

The first transformation will usually be the simplest aesthetically both in outfit and body, with simple details, but will usually get more complicated, and it's likely to gain more body transformations as more changes happen. A superpowered person may experience 1-2 changes every 10 years.

Objects and outfits created via transformation will dissipate upon detransformation, regardless of if it is removed from the person. The same goes for additional limbs and features that do not exist on the original body, although these injuries are permanent, unlike clothes and objects which will reform upon transformation.

page 4: other known possibilities of transformations:

- Partial changes to a transformation may occur in the event of permanent injury, such as gaining a prosthetic after losing a limb, but nothing else in the outfit changes.

-It is possible for a transformation's change to be affected by other superpowered persons. This is commonly shown by similarities in outfit transformations, as elements of the superpowered persons apperance change to resemble each other.

-Changes in colour are extremely rare and usually only occur in small aspects

other changes and risks: Some changes are permanent and may not disappear when a superpowered person detransforms.

-Reproductive changes: Any biological offspring will have the exact same powers as the parent. However, pregnancy will be risky, and have a high rate of failure, especially if the mother does not have any superpowered abilities.

-Dreams: While there is no known reason for this occurrence, supers will rarely be able to remember their dreams, except those with dream related abilities or legacy supers. However, despite this the people in question will usually be experiencing nightmares, and superpowered people are at high risk for night terrors and sleep terror disorder.

-A superpowered person's body will adapt to their powers and it is extremely unlikely for one to be harmed by their own power, but this may result in permanent changes that may cause inconvenience in daily life. If this is something you or a loved one experience, please inform your GP

-Overuse of powers: While powers appear to be adapted to not cause harm to the user, overuse of powers can result in a large amount of pain and possible long term damage

below that is an image of two people, on looking like a doctor, a pale man with dull brown hair and dull green eyes, dressed as a doctor and smiling with a clipboard, looking at a person shown from  behind, with long mint hair.

page 5: what does this mean for me?

Discovering and controlling your abilities is often the first step one may take inbecoming a superhero. Here at the P.I.S we offer many pathways to doing so,including all required training, courses, and experiences.

We also acknowledge that some super powered people do not seek to become asuperhero, but the P.I.S still has a place for them! We offer many career pathsand courses for almost any job and  our career advisors can match up the perfectpower-job combinations to give you a leg up if you are interested in using yourabilities in your career.  For more information, visit jobs.pis.uk

Use of powers in a job, or to otherwise earn money using superpowered abilities,without a license is a serious offence that can result in fines starting from £5000,and a potential ban from working in that field.

below is the superhero arrow, grinning at a woman in a plain looking suit. he has one hand on his hip and the other is shaking hands with the woman. the women has red hair and eyes, and pointy red nails.

Due to the nature of superpowered abilities, it is important to gettailored advice and support for affected individuals.For more information call us at our support helpline at 020 7946 0xxx. Both our lines are open from 8:30am-10pm mon-fri and 9:30am-9pm sat.You can also visit our website for more resources at pis.uk/resources. end id]

sorry for last weeks lack of update, irl stuff is happening too much and too fast

anyway heres something ive wanted to do for a while, a pamphlet thats kinda medical style? it seemed like it would be fun and i wanted an excuse to try something new and im always down to infodump (affectionate) about my ocs

however im half asleep, ive already delayed an update for a week, and im a little stressed so i didnt get a proper proofread so sorry if theres any typo or if i left a placeholder in ill get it later if i see any late

edit: did i really forget to fucking finish the fake phone number at the end? anyway sometimes fake phone numbers are reserved for tv and stuff if a phone number is needed, thats the one used for london fake numbers, i just forgot to finish it until i went back to write the id there

[princeasimdiya12]

Heyo. So there’s already been talk about potential foreshadowing for the final fates of the Akudamas now that we’re in the second half of this show. With that in mind, I wanted to share my thoughts on what may happen to each main character.

Brawler: He died valiantly against Master and passed away peacefully on the industrial bridge.

Cutthroat: Based on how he’s kneeling and with his face away from us, I want to assume that he’s committing suicide via knife to the gut. It would be ironic that a professional serial killer with a kill count over a thousand would be the one to end his own life. It’s also worth mentioning that Swindler is currently far away from him via rocket ship so he would have killed himself out of despair from being away from his beloved.

Hoodlum: His picture features him looking frantically at what appears to be yen bills on the floor. But given his loss of Brawler, I’m theorizing that the money has lost all meaning to him. Despite having so much on his hands, it means nothing if he can’t bring back his beloved bro. I also believe that Hoodlum will be a survivor given his character arc and will try to find meaning with his life.

Doctor: I feel that she’s going to die in the future given how she’s posed and how her regeneration power is currently at work. But this time, it won’t be enough to save her as she succumbs to her injuries. I’m leaning towards her getting backstabbed by the Executioners over her dying to help her former cohorts. As of now, it doesn’t seem in character for her to risk her life to help them by any means. 

Hacker: With Hacker, I’m betting that he’s going to make a return to help the anti-heroes in some compacity. Maybe using his tech skills to break them out and help them fight against the Execution Division. But something well happen where the Executioners are aware of his abilities and set up a trap that imprisons his mind in cyberspace. The way his limbs look give the sense that he’s losing himself to the digital world.

Swinder: I’m also betting that she’ll be one of the main survivors of the killing game series. Along with being the main protagonist, the way she’s kneeling in front of the 7 graves suggests that she’s mourning the Akudamas whom she came to know and appreciate throughout her misadventure. She’s also shown with shorter hair which often symbolizes how a person is letting of their past and is moving forward in their life with their short hair. After everything she went through and learned, Swindler is now a new woman and will make a new life for herself based on her experiences. Another theory that comes to mind is that she’s a test subject with amnesia who underwent a similar but traumatic experiment like Brother and Sister. Maybe the experiment focused on channeling a person’s luck and she was one of the successful ones. The graves represent her siblings who were not as lucky.

Courier: His fate was the trickiest to figure out. From what I can see in his picture, it look like a barren tree and energy/wind flowing from it. The tree could be a clue to his personal background. As for the energy, this is a shot in the dark but I think Courier’s death will involve him being blasted/converted into energy. We’ve seen how his futuristic bike operates and uses lasers and runs at impressive speeds. So something will happen where he’ll be forced to use his bike at a fast speed that explodes and costs him his life. It would also be dramatic irony if he intended his death to be a heroic sacrifice for Swindler as he frequently abided by a “never allow emotions to interfere with your job” mentality.

Brother and Sister: By the time the series ends, the two siblings will reunite and venture to a new location where they can be safe. This is shown as they’re entering a doorway filled with light that contrasts the surrounding darkness. After a lifetime of injustice and suffering, the two kids may get their happy ending. Or an ending that’s much happier compared to what they’ve been through.

And those are my thoughts and predictions for the final fates of the Akudamas. I was also thinking that each of these fates would occur in canonical order thanks to Brawler being the first to die (may he rest in peace). But I feel that it would be a little too obvious. 

Either way, thank you for taking the time to read this; I do appreciate it. And if you agree or disagree or have your own predictions for their fates, you’re more than welcome to reblog this post with your thoughts on the matter. Thank you and may you have a great day!