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writereleaserepeat · 2 years ago

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Hear No Evil - Chapter 5

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CW: bbu, bbu-adjacent, pet whump, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, dehumanizing intent by using it/its pronouns, ableism, blood mention, scar mention, non-sexual nudity

It felt wrong to touch the boy’s face. It felt wrong to touch a person who had been endlessly abused into mindless submission, someone who had been trained through pain and suffering that they had to exist at the will and command of another. It felt wrong that the boy was still sitting naked, all but skin and bones, entirely unmoving on Rowan’s floor.

What other choice did Rowan have? Was there another way to communicate with this boy, one that wasn’t as direct as physical contact? Necessity, Rowan reminded himself as the boy’s face turned upward in his palm. I’m doing this out of necessity.

Even as he gently guided the boy’s face to look upwards, he refused to meet Rowan’s eyes, his gaze directed towards the floor. That was alright. It was going to have to be alright for a while, Rowan suspected.

After a moment he let his fingers fall away from the boy’s chin. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but he was relieved when his new houseguest held the position rather than dropping back to the ground.

“Hey there,” Rowan greeted. He did his best to smile. “I don’t know if you remember, but my name’s Rowan. I know this is new for you, but it’s new for me too. It’s new for both of us. I’m sure you’re probably scared, but we’re going to get through this. We’re going to have to learn together, alright?”

The boy didn’t even blink.

---

Master didn’t seem upset that Pet was holding still and looking up at him. By the hint of a smile on Master’s lips, it seemed that he was pleased by the unusual posture.

It didn’t dare meet Master’s eyes, of course, but now it could try and read his lips. Even if it couldn’t decipher the words that Master was speaking, it had already come to enjoy the soft murmur of Master’s speech. The kindness and warmth was enough for it to relax.

New… new… new for both of us… learn together…

Pet knew that it could do that. Pet was happy to learn new things for its Master, and it was going to try its very best to do them well. Failure meant punishment, but even worse, failure meant disappointing Master. Disappointing its old Master is what got Pet into this mess to begin with. It could handle any amount of pain, however Master chose to train it, but disappointment always burned the deepest.

Pet can be good. Pet can learn with Master.

---

It struck Rowan that now only was the boy still naked, but the stench of waste and sweat clung to his body. The putrid odor of the liquidation event had begun to seep into the room at no fault of the boy’s own.

Of course - Rowan privately scolded himself for forgetting. The facility never gave its victims the luxury of proper hygiene, and this one had been stuck at the liquidation event for days, before eventually being stuffed in a box. There was no wonder that the boy’s curls were slicked down with grease and dirt.

Rowan attempted a smile. He knew it didn’t reach his eyes, but how could it, when he knew how much pain this person had been through?

“How does a bath sound, yeah? Can we do that?” Rowan offered this enthusiastically. Rowan also knew that his bathroom was a bit of a disaster, scattered with half-empty shampoo bottles and skin care products he hadn’t used in weeks. He tried to soothe himself by rationalizing that the boy wouldn’t particularly care about the room’s cleanliness.

There was no reaction to Rowan’s offer, not a nod, not so much as a twitch. It was all he could do not to sigh, worried that any sighs would be interpreted as misplaced frustration. The last thing he wanted to do was set the boy on edge.

He remembered what worked earlier, the very gestures that had lured the boy to his bedroom in his first place. After giving himself a determined nod, Rowan took a few steps backwards, and gestured with a low hand to invite the victim to follow along.

Much to Rowan’s relief, the boy understood. He scampered forward on his hands and knees, eyes glued back to the ground, every bone on his gaunt frame showing. As much as Rowan would have preferred him to walk on two feet, this was going to have to do for the moment. Just enough to get him cleaned and settled in, nothing more. Then they would begin work on rehabilitation.

As soon as Rowan opened the door to the bathroom, the boy bolted forward and into the tub in a tangle of limbs and apparent enthusiasm. Rowan hadn’t spoken a single word or made a gesture. He smiled in spite of himself, and cocked his head to the side.

“Alright, I guess baths are okay? That’ll make this easier.” Rowan thought about the many victims that had been tormented by water, scalded or frozen at inhumane temperatures, or held beneath the surface until they drew mouthfuls into their lungs. To have a victim who was at least amiable to the cleaning process would relieve the burden on them both.

The boy had resumed the typical kneeling position in the tub, seemingly unbothered by the hard porcelain. Rowan figured it was best not to try and correct that for the time being. One step at a time. Be encouraging.

Rowan leaned over to the spigot and slowly turned it on, carefully easing the handle towards “H,” and diligently checked the temperature as water began to flow. Once it was comfortably warm he plugged the drain and watched as the clear liquid began to pool around the boy’s legs. Rowan almost swore he heard a contented sigh as the boy’s eyes slipped closed.

For the first time in more than a day, Rowan felt himself smile, a genuine smile. And for the first time, he felt that maybe he was cut out for this.

---

Pet was grateful for the washing before it even began. Its old Master was so particular in keeping Pet clean, and would have his servants scrub Pet down every day beneath a stream of hot water. Sometimes the soap was floral, other times it was citrus, but it always left Pet smelling wonderful. Handler never gave it such luxuries when it was sent back to the training facilities.

The water rose ever higher, first over its thighs, then over the pale skin of its stomach, until the water finally came to a stop right above its navel. It could have groaned with how pleasant the warm water felt on its aching legs and bruised knees. For a moment it nearly dared to speak, express its gratitude for the kindness, but knew better than to open its mouth without being told.

Still, it was a treat to have Master wash it rather than a servant.

Master gently cupped warm water over its head, and Pet closed its eyes tight to keep the water out. With each new splash of water Master continued to talk away, his voice nearly as warm as the water, wrapping around Pet’s shoulders along with the suds. Of course, the words were still indistinct, and Pet listened in case there was a command it could discern, but it was already starting to think that maybe Master just liked to talk. Pet wouldn’t mind that at all.

---

“I’ve never really had anything to name before,” Rowan mused aloud as he worked his fingers through the boy’s curls. The texture was so much deeper than his own, the ringlets rich with weight. He made a quick mental note that the dollar-store shampoo he used for his own pin-straight hair would most certainly not do in the future.

“You see, I had to name a goldfish when I was a kid,” Rowan continued as he began to rinse the shampoo out. “I had to name it, and I stalled for weeks. My parents kept asking me, and my sister kept bugging me about it, but I just didn’t have anything. My mom eventually suggested ‘Goldy,’ and I just went with it. But if you can’t tell me what you want to be called, at least not yet, you deserve a name. A proper one, something with a bit of dignity.”

He wondered if there were websites to help with such a thing. namesforyourbrainwashedhumanslave.com? It wouldn’t surprise him.

“You’re going to have to learn to wash yourself in the future.” Rowan gently wrung some of the water from the boy’s thick head of hair and hoped he wasn’t pulling on the roots. “It’s okay if that doesn’t happen right away. I’m more than happy to help, but I want you to feel comfortable doing things on your own, without having to ask me. You can come in here and have a bath whenever you want. The apartment incorporates the cost of utilities into the monthly rent already, which means we can use as much as we want at no extra cost. It’s nice to have almost unlimited heat in the winters, especially this far north.”

As he began to carefully wipe away the grime on the boy’s face with a warm cloth, Rowan nearly startled when the boy leaned into the touch. He hadn’t expected to feel pressure returned against his hand. After pausing long enough to pull himself out of the shock, Rowan pressed on and began to scrub at the dried blood on the side of the victim’s face. Flakes of muddy brown and deep crimson scabs covered the deep gouges that ran from his temples, down his ears and jawline, almost down to his neck. Given the extent of the damage, it was a wonder there was any skin left.

“I hope one day you can tell me how these got here,” Rowan murmured as he got a good look at the wounds for the first time. Blood flaked away and fell in hues of brown into the water, mixed with fresh red from the most recent and still-weeping wounds.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan whispered before he could stop himself, because he knew he had to be hurting the boy, no matter how gently he tried to proceed. The wounds were deep, and Rowan wondered if they needed stitches. How was he supposed to tell? Maybe they were too wide for stitches, maybe the scar tissue was already too well-formed.

They were different than the scars that Rowan had seen on other victims before, and he had seen the aftermath of many instruments of torture in his time. These scars were jagged, and they were as wide as three fingers across, as though they had been continually torn open. It was the first time Rowan saw them this close up, and he noted that the cartilage of the ears was warped and knobbed. Again, something like he had never seen before.

The water had turned a translucent copper color, and Rowan tried not to be sick as he reached in to drain the bathtub. A quick hand gesture and the boy got out of the tub and knelt back down on the bath mat.

Right, towels. Dry him off.

“Let’s get you dry, huh?” Rowan spoke. Maybe it would help ease whatever tensions were running through the boy’s mind if Rowan kept narrating what he was doing. He imagined it would be beneficial to take away some of the nerve-wracking suspense, and instead replace it with vocalized certainty.

Forcing a smile on his lips, Rowan grabbed the freshly-laundered towel he had set aside, and held it out in the boy’s line of sight.

“I’ve got a clean towel here. If you want to do it yourself, just grab the towel, and I’ll stop. Otherwise, here we go.”

As soon as the terry cloth made contact with the boy’s shoulders, he leaned into the touch, his upper body shifting a few centimeters closer to Rowan’s own. Again. This time, Rowan didn’t startle quite so easily. In fact, he was surprised at himself, and the happiness that blossomed in his stomach.

He knew he couldn’t take happiness in this forever. There was no joy to be taken in a human being that acted on inhumane training, a human who sought other human contact because they were told to, not because they wanted it. But if the boy wasn’t afraid of him and his touch, that was one small victory. Rowan had a feeling he was going to have to take the little victories for what they were.

“You’re doing great,” he said, not for the first time that hour. But this time, Rowan knew he might have been talking to himself as well.

---

Taglist: @honey-is-mesi @aswallowimprisoned @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @honeycollectswhump @rekiroyalstraightprincemaru @tragedyinblue @clairelsonao3 @octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @peachy-panic @whumplr-reader @dislexiher @cc1010foxy @onlybadendings @panstardalia @tempoghast @whumpzone

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ghostonly · 9 months ago

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Disability, Cures, and the Complex Relationship Between Them

So, I've been thinking a lot lately about cures, just in general, as a concept. I've been watching the excellent videos of John Graybill II on Youtube, where he demonstrates his day-to-day movements as someone with Limb Girdle Muscular Dystrophy 2a, and updates every year to show how it progresses. I'm currently writing a character with LGMD and wanted to be sure I understand exactly how it impacts his daily life and movement limitations, so this has been extremely helpful, because there's only so much you can glean from a list of symptoms.

Quick Background on John Graybill II

John started this series in 2007/8, back when he was about 30 years old. He was diagnosed when he was 17, back in '95, and, when he started this series, he was very much fighting his LGMD, in a constant struggle, and angry with himself and the condition. In this, he directed a lot of toxic positivity at himself and became convinced he could defeat LGMD with positive thinking, healthy diet, etc.

Now, while I respect that there are positives to this (exercise and eating well is rarely a bad thing, and the stretches he does almost certainly have helped him to lengthen his time with mobility), there is also something to be said for accepting a physical disability for what it is. In later videos, he clearly had shifted that mindset toward something a bit more realistic. Where, in the beginning, he had been certain that he would somehow heal himself through positivity and such, he later says that may never happen, and he wants to enjoy doing what he can, while he can, instead of being in a constant battle with himself.

That being said, he does run an organization (I believe he runs it?) that seeks to fund research and find a cure for muscular dystrophy of this particular variety. And, while watching his videos from oldest to newest, I've been grappling with my complicated feelings regarding cures.

Why Are Cures a Complicated Topic?

The reason cures are a complicated topic is because, for a lot of us, cures are unlikely to ever be developed - at least not within our lifetimes and probably not within our children's lifetimes. Many physical disabilities and disorders are just too rare, too unknown, the cause unclear. For us, we have to just accept that this is something we have to live with, for better or for worse.

The other reason is that people are often proponents of seeking cures for things that don't need curing, such as autism. Obviously I haven't polled every autistic person alive, but I have known and read content from countless autistic people. I don't think I've ever found a single autistic person who wanted to be cured of autism. In fact, I would say most of them were pretty vocally oppositional toward the idea, for good reason. 90% of the difficulty that comes with being autistic comes from societal ableism and accessibility issues on a systemic level.

My Thoughts on Cures

I can't speak for everyone with incurable physical disabilities that are unlikely to have a cure developed, nor can I speak for everyone who's autistic, but, speaking for myself, talk of cures can be extremely uncomfortable to me.

I asked myself why. Because, in reality, there shouldn't be anything wrong with researching a cure for something like LGMD. It causes people great difficulty and often great pain. For certain variants, it causes early death.

And, after reflecting on my feelings for a long while, I think I've figured out why the word and the concept bothers me so much.

Cures Are Often Used as a Crutch for Ableism

There are, broadly speaking, two camps of people who want cures:

People who want to improve their quality of life, the quality of life of someone they love, or who want to prevent future generations from the difficulty they or a loved one have been dealt

People who are uncomfortable with disability and want it to go away

This is a venn diagram with a large overlap. The number of people who are purely in camp 1 is much smaller than you might hope.

Why Is Wanting to Get Rid of Disability a Problem?

Okay so here's why camp 2 is a problem. Let's say, for the sake of the argument, that every disability has a possible cure that just has to be found. Why is that a problem? Disability is bad, right?

Wrong! Disability is completely amoral - it has no goodness or badness. It just is. Ideally, some of the more painful disabilities could be cured to prevent pain and early death. However, the problem with viewing disability, in a vacuum, as bad, is that your opinion of the disability will inevitably rub off on the people with the disability.

When you view disability as an adversary, you view disabled people as a problem to solve.

Just as John Graybill II explains in one of his stair-climbing videos a few years into the series, he had spent so long trying to fight the progression of the illness, that he had spent every day in passive anger and frustration. He had forgotten to just enjoy his ability to climb stairs. And he said that he wished he could go back and just enjoy it - stop timing himself on his stopwatch and trying to beat his times. Basically, even as a disabled man himself, he had spent so long looking at his disability as a problem to fix, he hadn't been properly enjoying being a person and just living his life.

When you apply the same fix-it approach to someone who doesn't have a disability, it's equally easy for them to forget the personhood of the people with disabilities. Only, instead of it being directed at themselves, it is directed at others. They push their disabled loved ones to just try harder, just push harder and for longer, eat right, try this, do that, think right, take vitamins - if you just try hard enough, you can beat this!

Except... most of the time, you can't.

The idea that doing everything right will allow you to beat a chronic illness is just ableism in a scientific hat. You're afraid - of being disabled, of the consequences of disability, of someone you love being different, of them looking weird, becoming weird, being seen in public yourself or with someone disabled, of being uncomfortable, of having to put in more energy and effort into helping someone with special needs.

The list of things people are afraid of is endless, and the positive spin on that ableism is simply fighting to fix it.

Make it go away so that you don't have to deal with it anymore.

And then, when you take that approach and apply it to the countless disabilities that don't have cures and may never have cures, you end up with boatloads of people who are seen as problems to solve. They feel like a burden to their family and friends. They're pushed to do what hurts and will actually cause more long-term problems for them by forcing themselves to do things they shouldn't be doing - things that damage their bodies, which aren't meant to do those things anymore.

The Long-Term Consequences of Ableist Pushes for Cures

So back to that argument about all disabilities being curable with time: what's the problem with making some disabled people uncomfortable if, one day, all disability is cured and there are no more disabled people?

Well, the simple answer is this: that's never going to happen, and if you think that way, you're a eugenicist.

Even if every disability is curable with time, the ends do not justify the means - the means being to humiliate and degrade disabled people by treating them like problems.

And it would take decades, maybe even centuries, of those means to even reach the ends. But we'll stop that argument there, because there will never be an end to disability.

Why There Is No End to Disability

So, the thing about disability, is it will never cease to exist. Even if it was a good goal to have, which it isn't, it's never going to happen.

Disability is often caused by gene mutation. At one point, none of the gene mutations for our current physical disabilities existed. They developed. And, just as the current disabilities developed over time and with gene mutations, so will new and different ones. Even if we cured all of the current disabilities, there would always be new ones, likely developing as fast as we can cure the existing ones.

Additionally, a lot of disability is not congenital. People who are in accidents and lose legs will never be able to regrow those legs. Even if eugenicists managed to prevent any "deformed" babies from being born without limbs, people would lose them from accidents and infection, and all kinds of things.

In a world where all congenital disabilities were cured, what quality of life do you expect people in wheelchairs to have?

Because I think I can confidently say that, if everything congenital were cured, a day wouldn't pass before accessibility laws were thrown out the window. We would be returned to the days where disabled people are hidden away and can't leave the house - kept as shameful secrets by families who resent them, or shown off as paragons of strength and virtue when/if they're able to be fitted with a working prosthetic.

Neither of these outcomes is positive.

The Slippery Slope of Cure Ideology

So, on to another argument: there is a lot of danger in letting cure ideology go unchallenged.

I want to clarify again, that I don't think we should never research cures. I'm challenging, specifically, the social movement behind cures that is often driven by eugenicism and ableism.

So, why is it dangerous to let that exist? Well, let's look back at the reason I mentioned that people are in camp 2: they are afraid of being uncomfortable. They are afraid of what's different from them. They view difference as a problem to be solved - a disease or a disorder.

You can see this exact principle in action when people fight for a cure for autism. It's being fought for by the allistics who know people with autism, not usually the autistics themselves. It's being fought for by parents who are angry that their child is different or won't look them in the eyes. They see them as an obstacle to overcome, not as a person who has a different way of socializing. Even in the best case, where they see them as a person more than a problem, they are seen as a person with a wrong and disordered way of socializing.

Imagine, for a moment, that there was an allistic trait that people treated as disordered or wrong the way an ableist might treat hand-flapping or lining up toys. Let's take a direct comparison - something one does when they're happy - like laughing. Imagine, for a moment, that something you do when you're joyful, is treated like a maladaption. Perhaps, in this alternate universe, smiling is normal, but laughing is disturbing to people. You spend your life desperately trying to repress your laughter, hiding your joy, even though it's the most natural thing in the world to you. How would you feel hearing people chanting positively, with smiles, taking donations, running marathons and dancing, all for a cure for laughter?

Really, really, genuinely think about it.

Imagine living your entire life like that.

This doesn't just relate to autism.

The reason this ideology has to be challenged is not just by the concrete example of people trying to cure autism, it's the root of the ideology, that different is bad. That the majority being uncomfortable means the minority is wrong and needs to be fixed.

Is this ringing any other bells for you? Because autism isn't the only thing I desperately hope they don't find a genetic link for.

If fighting for a cure for anything people deem different and weird enough goes unchallenged, people will attempt to cure anything they don't like. Like being gay. Or being trans.

And I'm not talking about conversion camps that try to brainwash you into thinking you're not gay. I'm not talking about the abusive Christian approach, I'm talking about the eugenicist scientist approach.

If a genetic link were found or if there was some kind of actual biological difference, that could mean people trying to test fetuses for the "homosexuality gene" or whatever. It would give a concrete path for eugenicists to try preventing gay and trans people from ever even being born.

And, if that biological connection is found, how long do you think it would take for people to start excitedly pushing for a cure to "homosexuality" or "transgenderism"?

What is the point of this post?

It's food for thought.

I want, not only my abled followers, but my disabled ones as well, to reflect on how they feel about cures - about being cured or about curing others.

I want you all to ask yourself, am I in camp 1 or camp 2?

Your goal in supporting a cure should be to prevent death, to prevent pain that cannot be overcome through systemic support and accessibility, to help people live lives with quality.

Your goal in supporting a cure should never be to remove something that makes you uncomfortable. If you're abled, it should never be to make your life easier or alleviate your feelings of guilt, resentment, or stress. It should never be to make people normal, especially not people you care about.

And, on a final note, remember that the things you see in a disability you know nothing about may not have anything to do with reality. If you see a disability for the first time and you immediately wish for a cure for it, simply because it looks painful, maybe find out if it actually is first. Sometimes we attribute pain and misery to things that are no big deal to the people dealing with them. And, in doing so, we also attribute heroicism and virtue to the people dealing with them - which they did not ask for.

Don't make disabled people into a project. Don't use them as inspiration porn - putting them on a pedestal and using them as proof that "anything is possible."

Treat disabled people with dignity and respect.

Treat disabled people as people, with or without them jumping through every hoop you think will make them better.

Think about how fucking annoying it would be if, every time you got up from a chair in public, everyone stared at you, or even praised you for it. How uncomfortable would you be if no one ever saw you as yourself but as some kind of ambassador for strong, amazing people who are so so so cool because they can tie their shoelaces.

Think about how fucking infuriating it would be if every tenth person you walked past turned to you, looking sad, and said "god bless you."

Think about how old that would get, and how fast.

That's all. Just think about it.

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starmanbyler · 1 year ago

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see this actually made me realise something. this person is right. mike was not trying to control el and he didn’t really care much about how she looked or how she dressed.

how does this help my case??

well, why do you think they made max say ‘not hopper, not mike, you.’ ? there was no indication that hopper nor mike had much to do with how el dresses. in fact it’s pretty overt what max actually meant by that and i think this person may just be wilfully ignorant about it. it’s not about clothes.

max was talking about el finding herself and understanding what she actually likes. she literally said ‘how do i know what i like?’ and they just loveee to brush over that??

EL DOESNT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO LIKE SOMETHING!!

how does this not raise any red flags to these people???

this ties into that whole argument that it’s supposedly ableist to say el isn’t ready to date, when until she was 14 she didn’t even know how to tell what clothes she likes. if she can’t tell what clothes she likes, how do you expect her to know what she likes in a relationship and who is good for her?? i’ve gone over this so many times but the only understanding el has of romance is mike kissing her + overdramatised old romance movies. this is Not Good for her bro??

max’s comment there had nothing to do with clothes. what she’s saying is that she should live based off of what feels like her, not hopper or mike. in hopper’s case, she probably just means that most of el’s current life is based around hopper’s, her clothes, her home, the tv shows she watches. and the mike comment is also about this but also about mike himself. i think it’s sort of saying that mike may not actually be what el likes.

max urges el to do some introspection and reflection and try to figure out if she likes mike for mike or if she likes mike for what he represents. whether that’s in the way that he’s the first person she felt she could trust, or the way he just is her romantic partner and she sees that as a positive thing because of it’s portrayal in media and she sees her friends having relationships and thinking that’s just the norm.

the whole ableism discourse is odd to me. it’s not even like it’s canon that el is disabled. people act like she’s just autistic (which she may well be) and in which case, it would be dumb to say she can’t date, because many autistic people are able to have good relationships. the problem is that el is severely traumatised and sheltered and quite a few years behind on her understanding of the world. for example, she didn’t know what a friend was until just 2 years before.

and the argument that she’s not ready to date is not inherently about her having trauma or possibly a disability, it’s based on her as a person because we can see in text and subtext that she doesn’t understand her own relationship or feel how she ‘should’ in a relationship. people with trauma or disabilities are often able to have relationships, and el could at some point but the show tells us that she isn’t ready, and she isn’t in love with mike.

it’s not about the clothes. mike doesn’t care how el looks. he said he liked the new look. which ironically i think represents her independence and understanding of herself. mike and el would both be better off without each other romantically. i honestly feel like him saying that (‘i like the new look by the way’) in a meta sense, was more like him accepting that she should go in a different direction (and so should he) and that m&m scene, despite what people think, didn’t seem like a ‘getting back together’ scene to me. it felt more like an amicable reunion, they never officially reinstate their relationship, they just decide to stop the fighting and get along. i know lucas said to win her back, but then there was the weird music and weird face of mike before him soon having this scene with el.

it felt to me like mike was accepting their breakup and realising they don’t work. i also do not think that they were together between that point and the very end of s3. it would explain why he looked so shocked after she kissed him. the ambiguity confuses me and i wish they had touched a bit more on what their ‘making up’ even meant but overall i think it was first el realising they don’t work, then mike realised, but el changed her mind because she had lost something stable in her life. that’s one idea. i’m not too sure why exactly she decided to say she loved mike and kissed him at the end of that season, and if anyone has any ideas i would be interested

#byler #byler analysis #byler meta

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bluebudgie · 2 years ago

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So... what's up with these two?

(I love recycling old pictures.png)

You may or may not have seen me draw these rats repeatedly and you may or may not care what's up with them.

Well, in case you do... buckle up, we'll be here for a while.

Just in case: very vague ableism mention. I'm cutting down on pretty much all details, but just so you know the general topic comes up at some point. Don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.

Unrelated disclaimer: words are difficult.

It's probably smart to start with a general character introduction so you get an idea of who you're dealing with.

So, Petthri.

(Shared most of this stuff about him before, now it's gathered in one place at least.)

The outgoing guy, grew up in a supportive family, always been the popular kid among peers, and later a pretty popular professor with his students (less so with some other colleagues, but hey). Very passionate about animal bioacoustics. Very hands-on when it comes to research and teaching. Infodumps a lot.

He's got his heart in the right place, but he's obviously not flawless. Has his thoughts constantly drifting in twelve different directions at once, can definitely not read the room, and has absolutely said and done things that hurt others just because he didn't think (and probably never realized). Likely to nervously laugh his way through most dangerous situations, but does manage to pull himself together and get things done if things turn really bad.

He got – at some point (precise date TBA, sometime around PoF events) – kidnapped by the Inquest because they wanted some of his research but didn't manage to sort through his mess. So they just took the entire man to the CoE and decided to keep him. Niche knowledge could always be useful after all. They were even kind enough to gift him an additional facial scar during the welcome interrogation! (The other one was a field trip accident). True hospitality.

Not sure if it's incredible optimism or naivety, but he's generally been doing alright during this whole prisoner situation. He's not locked up, they let him work on things he actually cares about (albeit not for the right cause), and overall he's had enough hope to believe he'll get out of there one day. Make the best out of the present, it'll be fine somehow.

I'm sure if you were to dig deep enough he'd find out he's actually less alright than he thinks he is. Oh well.

Let's talk about the other guy. Lahpp.

Me. I created you. (I've said barely anything about this man on here so far bc while I could fill the 20k essay with him alone, writing about him intimidates me lol. Also in case you're ever asking yourself this, no I did not realize his name sounds like 'lab' until weeks after I created him. Unfortunate coincidence. So, anyway...)

Obedient Inquest scientist, questions but doesn't oppose orders, has been doing the same work for the better part of the last two decades. Day in, day out, getting up early and staying up late. Somewhere in the middle of the pyramid scheme, he's definitely got a bunch of heads above him but he's nowhere near the bottom end of the chain. Got his own little lab space. Enjoys music theory in the little free time he allocates. Assertive, lets people know when not to bother him, but very polite nonetheless. Has mastered the art of superficial small talk. The guy who holds open doors and pulls your chair back for you with an acted but convincing smile. Truly employee of the month material.

He's never known anything but this perfectly ordered working drone life so he's fairly content with his current position.

....

Yeeaah you guessed there's more below the surface.

So this man's life started with being the subject of a failed genetic dragon magic experiment, first one in a handful of infants that actually lived, but ultimately he got nothing out of it but a fair share of various health conditions and disabilities. The initial project was dropped after a few years of surveillance with no results, and instead he got handed over to one of the medical departments so they could "at least make use of him" and test some cutting-edge medical tech. No wasting ressources, am I right? (:

Fastforward some years, a miserable childhood full of abuse and ableism (and by extension just as much of it internalized) essentially left him with the obsession of wanting to fit in with everyone else, wanting to be like everyone else, never having anyone find out anything about his conditions and his past. Worked his ass off in college so it wouldn't be apparent he struggled when others didn't. Created a work environment for himself that he knew would be accommodating to him while not raising any possible questions.

He's been doing fine for some time now; while he definitely hasn't gotten rid of his insecurities he has somewhat accepted that he just... is who he is. Some days are worse and some days are better. His brain has done a very thorough job suppressing pretty much all his early childhood memories. He has also convinced himself that being a perfectly exploitable asset to the corporation that abused him for years is definitely the right way to stick it to the system. They said he'd never be useful for anything and die an early death? Ha, showed 'em! (I am saying this with a lot of sarcasm. He is genuine.)

He's definitely a product of the environment he grew up in, which is a shame because if he hadn't been indoctrinated by the Inquest since birth he would have probably turned out a pretty decent person. He doesn't have the absolute worst inner moral compass. Alas, as it is he has contributed to [some fucked up things] and has [some fucked up views]. And he's not about to change that.

So... at what point do the stories of these two actually connect?

Petthri and Lahpp first met within a larger group of mostly scientists from mixed divisions that were sent on a trip to Rata Primus.

I won't go into the full details of The Rata Primus Odyssey now because that is a whole different story arc involving a total of six of my characters, but the relevant information is that they arrived in the wrong place at the wrong time (A Bug In The System says hello!), and got trapped in the main complex together (alongside Phlish and my charr engineer Leto) when Awakened shit hit the fan.

In short, the following escape mission lasted way too long, and made for an incredibly exhausting 0/10 experience for everyone involved. Cooperation between our two relevant asura actually went surprisingly smooth for the most part, at least way better than with the rest of the small group.

(Bringing that old edit back. Two criminals actually getting shit done in the back while the others are about to snap each other's head off.)

I did once offhandedly mention that Lahpp held Petthri at gunpoint exactly one time – that was here. He was not going to risk getting onto HQ's watch list for letting a prisoner slip away while he's even remotely involved.

Ultimately exhaustion and having no access to important medication for a prolonged amount of time got the better end of Lahpp, and while the other two would have probably just left the "dead weight" behind, Petthri made sure he made it out with them. Not a great time for the little Inquest criminal, both physically and mentally given his inclination for secrecy regarding certain topics.

A few days after they returned to the CoE Petthri checked up on Lahpp to make sure he's recovering, but afterwards... radio silence from both sides for the next few years.

–

Fastforward, it's now Cantha time!

If Lahpp had a piece of gold for everytime HQ sent him away on a "business trip" that'll end up nearly killing him, and likewise Petthri had one for everytime he'd be witness to that, they'd both have... two pieces of gold, which isn't much, but it's still weird it happened twice.

Once again as part of a larger group, our criminals find themselves in New Kaineng City. And because I am a mere human being that is not above resorting to overused tropes, they do of course end up having to share the same room for the time of their stay. I never claimed to be a mastermind storywriter.

At least this time the trip starts out fairly unspectacular, with mostly guided group tours through the city and its labs. Lahpp is not feeling too great (understatement) during all of this for reasons he can't quite grasp, but he's got a really bad gut feeling. Petthri actually notices he's lingering a lot and falling behind, so he suggests they split off from the rest of the group and go back to their room early. Get some rest, the journey to Cantha was long after all.

The next days are pretty calm, the Inquest is snooping around while our two heroes actually have some time to talk and get to know each other a little more. Petthri finally gets to tell someone his whole 'and this is how I was kidnapped!' story. Petthri's questions are getting a little too personal for Lahpp's taste, but overall they get along alright. It's almost like two people that have been way too lonely for several years are actually finding a bit of comfort for a moment. (Side note: Petthri warms up to people very quickly, and he might be (without realizing it) getting a little too comfortable with the idea of having found someone "redeemable".)

Now wouldn't it be great if a nearby reactor blew up and an elder dragon escaped?

The event itself isn't really affecting them (yet) but I do think Lahpp must be questioning the Eternal Alchemy at this point. Thaumanova. Multiple near-meltdowns in the Crucible. Rata Primus. Now this. Seriously, at some point it's just ridiculous.

With each new information surfacing, the "bad gut feeling" is slowly but surely turning into mild but continuous panic. Something is off and it clearly has something to do with dragons. Now, Lahpp never really cared about the whole elder dragon business. Whatever sort of magic experiment he was used for, it's the outcome that affected his life, not the source of it. Still, the thoughts are starting to occupy his mind more than he'd like to admit. Petthri is entirely unaware of any of this.

Oh wait – what's this? A new unknown form of raw magic rapidly spreading and threatening to destroy Tyria? Obviously this is something to be investigated, so the larger group coordinates an excursion to Dragon's End. And obviously they end up getting into the battle for the jade sea.

I guess at this point you see where my art is coming from.

Petthri and Lahpp never get to fight Soo-Won herself (no canon meta participation alas), but they are busy enough fending off Void creatures on ground level anyway. It's unclear (to me) if or how much the Void actually affects Lahpp on a physical level, but regardless he is not having the best time being confronted with something that is so unknown to him and yet so closely connected to his very being.

Some resurfacing traumatic memories combined with a not-so-pretty panic attack (and the physical stress of fighting) later, it's poor Petthri's task to once again take a blacked out criminal to safety. Meanwhile he's got absolutely no idea what is going on, but he's definitely going to demand some explanations.

For some days after this Petthri's playing bedside vigil in a New Kaineng medical facility. The two have a lot of time to talk. Personal topics. Uncomfortable topics. Lahpp does tell Petthri to go back to Rata Sum, he's beyond caring at this point. Quite frankly he thinks HQ won't care either. Petthri refuses to leave just like that. Asks Lahpp to come with him, he'll be better off away from the Inquest. Obviously Lahpp is not having any of it, he's very well aware the Inquest is as corrupt as it gets, but so is Rata Sum. That's just how the world functions. The Inquest has the meds and tech he needs to survive. He's not leaving. And he certainly doesn't need anyone acting self-sacrificial out of pity. It's degrading.

He tells Petthri to sleep on it and make up his mind the next day.

–

Aaand that is pretty much where the somewhat coherently planned part of my current rat-timeline ends. A glimpse into vague concepts for the future:

Enter a third character to the roster! It's Luqqah, Inquest medic-turned-biochemist. She happened to be in Cantha for a while now, doing her own research. She gets involved treating the injured after the whole Void mess. Naturally she ends up finding Petthri and Lahpp. Lucky for the latter, because she obviously has better knowledge dealing with asura than any of the human medics. And... in fact... she has pretty detailed knowledge about what's up with Lahpp specifically. Dealt with his medical papers in the past. Oh, also... they're exes. Don't worry, parted on good terms. Haven't seen each other since shortly after the Thaumanova meltdown. What a reunion.

So... yeah. It's gonna be trio time from now on. I don't know yet for how long the three of them stay in Cantha, or if they're going to get involved with the whole Gyala Delve storyline (or whatever comes out of it). Lahpp's not doing great, he'll need a while recovering. If he ever fully recovers. Petthri has a few of his own inner demons to fight. Time will tell.

As a conclusion... Petthri's saviour complex sets him on a good path towards a corruption arc while Lahpp's as close to a redemption arc as he'll get. They're both questioning their life and views a lot. Spoiler from the Omniscient Narrator: Both of them will be back in the Crucible. But with more thoughts to think than before. And more time to spend together.

And that's what's currently up with the rats.

#godspeed to all of you.#if you actually made it to the end: you have my eternal gratitude these rats mean a lot to me and this ultimate infodump was difficult #there is so much more to each of them separately and to some of the things i'm mentioning kinda briefly. some things i didnt mention at all #but this should cover at least a good chunk of what is relevant to both of them together #i wish i could just transfer all my thoughts to you telepathically but alas assorted words and images will have to do #budgie plays gw2

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chi-ow-hua · 11 months ago

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tw: intrusive thoughts, compulsion stuff (but like, mental health, not magic), ableism, mentions of drugs and addiction

Will, as most of the people who bother to unmask his easygoing persona will gladly tell you, is a bit of a control freak.

He doesn't actually know what drugs feel like. He knows Michael used to smoke weed with the Stolls sometimes. "Only way to deal with all these suicidal fuckheads" he'd grumble when Will glared at him in disapproval. But that was always away from the rest of camp and also not a very regular occurence. Will knows that because he started secretly going through Michael's dirty laundry after he caught him the first time, and Mike was always very bad at hiding the smell. (He managed to hold himself back from doing the same for the Stolls, though. He can justify it to himself if it's his own siblings; but elder teens from another cabin he barely talks to? That would just be deranged behavior.)

Will has never partaken in hard drugs or known someone who does. He has never experienced addiction, or met anyone suffering from one. Not as far as he knows, anyways. He can reluctantly admit that his paranoia regarding addiction probably borders on irrational. He knows a huge number of campers were not very happy at the abrupt decline of drugs and medication in the infirmary after the mantle of head medic got thrust upon him - including his own siblings, who know he would rather spend more energy than necessary on his healing than just sucking it up and prescribing some fucking advil.

But he looks at the neatly labeled opioids and over-the-counter drugs and all he can think about is schizophrenia and apoplexy and overdosing. Besides, Chiron seemed very happy with Will's new policy. "It will save us so much money" he'd muttered in utter delight, and Will realized he'd never thought much about how camp financed itself. He'd assumed the gods just... created money. Or something. But he should've figured that anything even resembling child support would have them hightailing in the opposite direction.

The drugs are locked away in a cabinet. Will used to have the only key. Upon severe complaints from his cabin and multiple attempted heists, he reluctantly gave Chiron the backup. He tries not to think about Austin's disappointment when he refused to give it to him. It had been a silent plea for trust, and Will is ashamed to say that he can't. Not when it comes to this.

Will knows that his siblings would never do anything. They are reliable and responsible and have endured too many lectures to ever be this stupid. He knows very well that they would never abuse of the cabinet, because he actively reminds himself of that fact every time he sees Kayla pale and trembling and with vomit stains on her camp shirt or Gracie so gaunt you can count every single one of her tiny ribs. Images that are not real and could never be real because they are all smart and responsible and reliable and would never abuse of the cabinet.

He still doesn't give them a key, though.

For all that will can't stop thinking about morphine and oxycodone and hydrocodone, he doesn't feel any desire to try them. The problem isn't him. It's the others. Because they hear the words but they don't know them. Not like Will does. They don't understand it, don't see the risks, don't feel the symptoms, don't see their siblings. Will knows better, and it is his duty as head medic to protect them. "i will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked, nor suggest any such counsel". Will tried to make the rest of his cabin learn the hippocratic oath too, but was severely outlaughed and outvoted. "You aren't even old enough to go to uni", as if that made a difference. Maybe Will isn't a doctor in the traditional sense, but he is the closest thing camp has.

Everyone can get caught up in an addiction, Will knows that all too well. Especially if you think that you are immune somehow, stronger than your own biology. No one is. Will knows that. Just as he knows that he will not become an addict because he knows better and has never once used the key always hanging around his neck. Another pearl, another year without an overdose. Maybe he is a control freak, maybe it would make things easier for everyone involved, maybe he knows that there must be something wrong with him, but maybe he is also saving his fellow campers lives. Maybe doing anything else would rob him his sleep, even more than it already does. "Its patronizing", Kayla said quietly. She is always loud, except when she is really angry. But maybe there is nothing wrong with his urge to protect. Why should she know better than him, anyways?!

The acetone and disinfectant are locked in a different cabinet. Everyone has a key for that one, because they are always in demand. "Why", tired and confused and annoyed and not actually expecting an answer. "There's a precedent" had been his non-answer, doing exactly as they'd known he would. Will can only use the disinfectant that is already in the dispenser. He threw his own key into the lake, one of the times he'd volunteered to care for their overnight patients on his own. (He knows he has the only key besides chiron, but it's better to be safe than sorry.) The patients were sleeping. The key had been on his necklace, tinkling along with the other, and then the bottle of desinfectant had been in his hand. He'd managed to put it back. Then he had run towards the shore before he could change his mind. He felt the splash in his bones, imagined it sinking into the depths of the lake. Hoped it stayed gone forever while simultaneously having to hold himself back from jumping in after it. Will couldn't become addicted, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

There was no reasonable way to lock away the soap in the bathroom. That was okay, though. He was used to staring, and most of the time he managed to wash the foam down the drain.

Will is in Nico's cabin, waiting for the other to return from the arena. He knows it's a privilege. Nico doesn't like his cabin. Nico really doesn't like people being in his cabin, especially without him. He keeps threatening to reform and redecorate, but always finds an excuse not to go through with it in the end. Will is starting to think that that is by design. It makes him a bit sad to think about. Of course Nico would also have his idiosyncrasies, being a child of the big three, but it's still painful. He wishes he could do something to make it better. Will still looks forward to their potential ikea trip whenever Nico mentions it.

Nico trusts Will. Or at least he hasn't invited anyone else to hang out in his cabin besides Reyna, Jason and his sister, which has to count for something. He stares at the pile of laundry - all black, except for one obnoxious yellow sweater he'd stolen from Will. Will hadn't asked for it back, even though it was soft and comforting and had been a gift to him from his mom. He'd always taken it off before performing any medical procedures - something he stopped bothering with for the rest of his clothes - meaning it was miraculously blood-free. He remembers being a bit surprised when Nico had clung onto this one, out of everything. Normally he tended towards the goriest ones. Said the stains were necessary in order not to clash with his aesthetic.

Nico prefers to keep to himself, values his personal space and his privacy. But Will looks and can't stop staring. Deranged, he remembers thinking. He'd barely been able to justify it when doing it to his brother. Doing it to anyone else would be-. Especially to Nico. Nico, who trusted him to stay alone in his cabin. Nico, who was one of the few campers to never ask for something to relieve the pain. Werewolf scratches were known to be particularly painful. Why had he never asked? (wouldn't he be doing him a favor? "into whatever houses i enter, i will go into them for the benefit of the sick")

Will, as most of the people who bother to unmask his easygoing persona will gladly tell you, is a bit of a control freak. He tries to tell himself that it isn't wrong. Tries to convince himself that it is, that there is nothing he could say or think that could justify it. Deranged. Will thinks he hears steps approaching and launches himself onto Nico's bed, where he'd been sitting before. The laundry pile - in even more disarray than before - glares disapprovingly. Only way to deal with it, he says. I'm doing it for nico, he begs to himself. Then why are you trying to hide it, his mind answers. Will tries to look away from the pile, but can't stop his eyes from glancing back.

"I'm gonna shower real quick, okay?" Nico, opening the door. "Have fun", Will answers, actively not looking at the laundry. And then, because he loves the nonsensical shot of adrenaline and superiority it gives him, "I see you found my sweater. You know, the one that mysteriously disappeared last week."

He holds his breath. Will doesn't know what he was expecting, but Nico doesn't deliver. Barely even glances at the pile. "I was literally wearing it yesterday, Solace. I know you know it. You were there." And then he rolls his eyes and disappears behind the bathroom door. And Will suppresses the urge to follow him inside and eat his soap.

#how do you even tag this #there is definitely some compulsion and intrusive thoughts going on here #not superiority complex not inferiority complex but a secret third thing #and anxiety. definitely some of that too.#tw drugs #tw ableism #let me know if there is anything important i forgot to tag?#does drinking disinfectant count as sh??#will solace #solangelo #this was supposed to be about SAD???#not main tagging nico cuz dude barely even appears

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computerpeople · 2 years ago

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do you have any tips about characterizing josh??

um, tips? not... really, i dont know. its everyones own interpretation, its not like he's THAT deep of a character though yknow? the biggest tip i can give is to look into schizophrenic resources and read about the disorder without the lense of hollywood ableism, maybe talk to people who are on the schizospectrum or experince psychosis? uhm

but other than that, i really do just kind of absorb all of the information i can about josh, ive been thinking about making a large masterpost of all of the things we know about him and the sources, considering the wikis kind of old and confusing and a mess. like heres some examples

josh is schizophrenic, and has been in treatment since he was 11. which means he likely did something to harm another kid, or himself, considering it was called an "incident" and it's pretty hard to get kids in that strong of a treatment unless something really bad happened, OR something legal had happened with his parents. so that gives us three routes, josh either had an incident where he hurt himself or another kid due to early onset mental illness, or joshs parents or family members ended up in some legal trouble and josh was put into therapy due to it, or a mixture of both. this would probably leave josh rather socially inept, due to lack of socialization because of the focus on mental care (and how often he was hospitalized) i also doubt the mental health care was great, considering the more money you throw at the institute, often times the more cruel the experience is.

josh is a movie geek, his dad is a big movie name and both of them seem to have an interest in special effects and direction specifically, instead of acting or writing. which makes me believe josh is rather introverted, instead of extroverted (i like to hc Beth was similar, but wanted to be an actor instead due to her extroversion) and he has an interest in horror movies and scary stuff, as well as psychology. that leads me to believe he's likely a bit more on the "emo" side, closed off, kind of regarded as awkward or scary due to it. he's likely not a popular kid, but i think he'd be well liked both because he's rich and because he's rather friendly. the kind of guy college kids befriend because they want free booze but don't actually care about.

josh is afraid of abandonment, this is a fact, he is also very confrontational but HATES conflict and fighting. this makes me believe he's a people pleaser, and easily irritated when people dont try to get along. that also leads me to believe he was likely an outsider of the friend group because of that, due to how much in fighting there is. i doubt he'd like that.

and then i work from all of those facts, what kind of person would that create? yknow? is that making any sense. i dont know. there are a lot of things i think people dont take into consideration when writing josh, like the fact that he's canonically a nepotism baby and likely well known due to his fathers own fame, or that he likely went through with the ECT even though it says he denied it (likely after hannah and beths disappearance, when he was hospitalized post suicide attempt, since they wouldn't really need 'permission' from him afterwards) or that he's an artist and draws a lot, or that he's shy and strays away from crowds (constantly called a loner, sits in the back of classes, doesn't express joy a lot)

#i pick a couple facts and then i try to think about what kind of person would either do/be those things #or i try to think of a person who would be an amalgamation of those things happening to them #and then i fuse all those traits together #it helps that my entire family is generally also a lot like the washingtons #we're all psychotic and unwell and obsessed with horror movies and art and have issues communicating #txt

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horizon-verizon · 2 years ago

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I once came across a person saying that having Larys kill his brother and his father didn't make sense because he seemed to like them (book or series) and that it was a demonization of the character, while next the series cleared Daemon of the murder of Laenor... Yes. What a headache. Already, Larys is among the options among the suspects, in addition to being the most probable, with perhaps the direct complicity of the Greens. And Daemon isn't the only one proposed for Laenor's death.

One, there is no indication that Show!Larys liked or disliked his father or brother. The one scene where we actually see him with either of them is at Rhaenyra’s wedding feast where Larys tells Harwin green is the color of the light of the tower of Oldtown. And there is absolutely no scene where he interacts with Lyonel. So this idea that Larys liked his brother and father comes from nowhere even in the show and is a wish fulfilling thing.

Two, there is also no indication -- overt or subtle -- that Larys felt strongly either way for his family in Fire & Blood. So again, where is this idea coming from? Why can’t Larys truly want power and kill his family to get it? It’s possible that people, maybe including his family, ignored, mocked, historical underestimated, were disgusted with him since childhood due to their own ableism or Lyonel frequently passed him over, but there is nothing that shows Lyonel interacting with Larys negatively even when Larys is master of whispers. Since Larys served this role during his father’s service as Hand.

Three, here is what Gyldayn says are our options for who killed Harwin & Lyonel:

The cause of the fire was never determined. Some put it down to simple mischance, whilst others muttered that Black Harren’s seat was cursed and brought only doom to any man who held it. Many suspected the blaze was set intentionally. Mushroom suggests that the Sea Snake was behind it, as an act of vengeance against the man who had cuckolded his son. Septon Eustace, more plausibly, suspects Prince Daemon, removing a rival for Princess Rhaenyra’s affections. Others have put forth the notion that Larys Clubfoot might have been responsible; with his father and elder brother dead, Larys Strong became the Lord of Harrenhal. The most disturbing possibility was advanced by none other than Grand Maester Mellos, who muses that the king himself might have given the command. If Viserys had come to accept that the rumors about the parentage of Rhaenyra’s children were true, he might well have wished to remove the man who had dishonored his daughter, lest he somehow reveal the bastardy of her sons. Were that so, Lyonel Strong’s death was an unfortunate accident, for his lordship’s decision to see his son back to Harrenhal had been unforeseen.

(A Question of Succession)

And Laenor’s death:

The circumstances of the murder remain a mystery to this day. Grand Maester Mellos writes only that Ser Laenor was killed by one of his own household knights after a quarrel. Septon Eustace provides us with the killer’s name and declares jealousy the motive for the slaying; Laenor Velaryon had grown weary of Ser Qarl’s companionship and had grown enamored of a new favorite, a handsome young squire of six-and-ten. Mushroom, as always, favors the most sinister theory, suggesting that Prince Daemon paid Qarl Correy to dispose of Princess Rhaenyra’s husband, arranged for a ship to carry him away, then cut his throat and fed him to the sea. A household knight of relatively low birth, Correy was known to have a lord’s tastes and a peasant’s purse, and was given to extravagant wagering besides, which lends a certain credence to the fool’s version of events. Yet there was no shred of proof, then or now, though the Sea Snake offered a reward of ten thousand golden dragons for any man who could lead him to Ser Qarl Correy, or deliver the killer to a father’s vengeance.

Viserys

Viserys couldn’t have killed the Strongs because he would/could have killed Harwin much earlier before even Rhaenyra birthed her second son and he obviously tolerated his presence, if for anything for his father, Lyonel’s, continued service. Viserys, even though later reinstating him, didn’t want Otto to have an easier time coming back after already dismissing him for questioning Rhaenyra. Viserys has also long accepted Rhaenyra’s sons though seemingly knowing they aren’t Laenor’s (as he also knows Laenor was gay). Viserys also was not a person given towards underhanded schemes, preferring open partying, feats, and as little conflict as possible except when Vaemond’s relatives mention bastardry again after he already ruled it forbidden.

Same for Corlys. He knew Laenor was gay, and he was very willing to just let Rhaenyra’s sons live as Laenor’s trueborn sons. We never hear of any protests from him and after Laenor dies, we hear nothing of him blaming Daemon or Rhaenyra.

Finally, Daemon lived with Laena and their daughters in Driftmark with the Velaryons for 3 years or so before Laenor dies. He still seems to live close or with them after Laena dies, so Corlys would have had a better sense of whether or not Daemon killed his son. It would have been beyond stupid for Daemon to try to kil Laenor being so close and knowing that people will suspect him. And Corlys sent out rewards for Qarl’s capture, with no indication of suspecting Daemon. Rhaenys, with her personality, would not have let Daemon pass, and there’s no indication that she ever actually liked Daemon, yet we hear nothing of her suspecting Daemon. Daemon and Rhaenyra married 4-5 months after Laenor and Laena die and even that time was too little to everyone else. In this context, the idea that Daemon killed Laenor to get to Rhaenyra is ridiculous because if he didn’t care about the “appropriate” time to wait to marry his target, why would he wait 4-5 months after killing Laenor?!

Annoying as hell.

#larys strong #asoiaf asks to me #larys' characterization #fire and blood characters #fire and blood comment #lyonel's death #harwin's death #laenor's death #asoiaf #fire and blood

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hybbart · 2 years ago

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Fhdhfhf normally I just scream in the tags but I gotta be more direct-- I absolutely love the expressions in the most recent apocalypse drawing-- they are chef's kiss!!

Like,, Jimmy's face is just so soft and genuinely concerned without an ounce of judgement meanwhile we have a very unimpressed Scott overlooking from the background--

And of course, the cherry on top-- Tango himself-- you can SEE the STUBBORNNESS and STRUGGLE and IT IS CLEARLY GOOD-NATURED BUT ALSO BESTIE JUST ASK FOR HELP and I'm just AUGAHUFUHR /positive /affectionate /I'm chewing your art

Thank you!

And ye. It's something I thought a lot about cause I knew early on that at some point, between his create skin and whatever's up with his DM skin's hand, I would want to take Tango's left arm. I tried to quickly write my thoughts but like usual I wrote a novel instead.

tl;dr: Tango's an insecure little baby who thinks his insecurities are justified by their situation so he holds himself to impossible standards he would never dare hold anyone else to.

(Also thank you for using full word tones)

Between the ranchers Tango's used to being the dependable one - maybe even a bit prideful about it - and gets guilty and insecure whenever he fails. Specifically in a very defensive boomer-y sort of way. He doesn't much think about how "I need to be useful" is a pretty awful way to think about himself, and also a bit backhanded to Jimmy too, who similarly can't always be useful.

Probably not something this format is conducive to explore much, since it's a very internal struggle. But I think it's an interesting struggle to have in a rough survival setting. It's certainly a situation that can exacerbate and feel validating to those issues with self-worth and internalized ableism.

Well I took a bit more realistic route with my apocalypse, where people are still, you know, people, and don't all just turn into evil violent serial killers the second society collapses. So the ranchers can still find plenty of decent folk who aren't going to force someone who can't do something to just to earn their place, and would help someone who needs it because why wouldn't you.

But I think, especially when they're by themselves, Tango would struggle with those sorts of feelings even before losing an arm. It's probably something that exacerbates Jimmy's own insecurities in their worst moments. In their best they do the opposite, by thinking the world of each other and expressing it frequently. The ranchers' relationship is all about that feedback loop.

#raau ask #raau notes #raau notes: ranchers #raau notes: technology

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allwaswell16 · 3 years ago

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This is a fic rec of One Direction fics where both the main characters are teachers as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fic, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find all my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

-Larry-

💜 An Unbalanced Force by @kingsofeverything

(E, 110k, marriage, divorce, miscommunication, teachers, hospitals, holidays, adoption, therapy, smut)

Harry has the rest of his life planned. Marriage. Career. Kids. Happily ever after. But sometimes plans don’t work out. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.

💜 Initiate the Feeling by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 71k, teachers au, awkward situations, new teacher Louis, strangers to lovers, getting together, misunderstandings, light angst)

He hopes this new opportunity gives him a chance to do some much needed growing up, but that's easier said than done when your new life involves children's scissors, a teacher's lounge, and Harry Styles.

💜 Hands Clasped Tight by @afirethatcannotdie

(E, 44k, secret relationship au, teachers, established relationship, domestic fluff, marriage, smut)

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

💜 You Watched Me Sink by bananasandboots / @anylessreal

(E, 38k, teachers au, drama teacher Louis, sex ed teacher Harry, semi-established relationship, secret relationship, fluff, smut)

the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn't realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him.

💜 Haven by orphan_account

(E, 35k, teachers au, age difference, older Louis, bdsm, dom Louis, sub Harry, kink exploration, friends to lovers, sex club, smut)

"But, like—If I trusted someone a lot, and if we used a, a safeword. And talked about, you know, boundaries, then—Yes, yeah, I-I’m a sub.” Louis’ eyes are so wide, his cheeks puffing out in the effort to not burst into laughter. “Oh shit, oh my god,” Harry whispers. “You meant—Oh god."

💜 Even on My Worst Days by @homosociallyyours

(E, 22k, sickfic, chronic fatigue syndrome, drama teacher Louis, teacher Harry, internalized ableism, flirting, fluff, getting together, kissing, smut)

Since developing chronic fatigue a few years earlier, a lot of things have changed for Harry, his once active lifestyle reduced to the occasional outing like the one he met Louis at, visits to the doctor, and doing his best to take care of himself on hard days.

💜 A Small Matter (A Matter of Trust) by @kingsofeverything

(E, 18k, teachers, strangers to lovers, Grindr, micropenis, jock straps, pubic hair, lingerie, basketball, smut)

Harry knows he and his Grindr hookup would be perfect together, if only he could convince him to give a relationship a chance.

💜 i wanna get dirty with you by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites

(E, 16k, kindergarten teacher Harry, teacher/presenter Louis, education conference, Seattle, Earth School Movement, outdoors, smut)

Harry is a kindergarten teacher. Louis is revolutionizing education--one child at a time. A conference may be an unlikely place to meet someone, but somehow Harry finds Louis and Louis helps Harry find himself.

💜 A+ For Effort by embro / @harryventura

(NR, 7k, music teacher Harry, PE teacher Louis, coach Louis, mutual pining)

Harry is the music teacher and Louis is the P.E. teacher and there's a whole lot of crushing going on.

💜 Before I Fall Too Fast by orphan_account

(G, 7k, teachers, Valentine's Day, fluff, friends to lovers, miscommunication, oblivious walnuts)

It’s probably a really bad idea to spend Valentine’s Day with the guy that you’re actually crushing on, Louis knows that.

💜 a fully armed battalion (to remind you of my love) by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(T, 5k, Harry Potter universe, Hogwarts, Professor Harry, Professor Louis, enemies to lovers, bad poetry, fluff)

Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Professor Styles and Professor Tomlinson absolutely despise each other. It's too bad that they're in love.

💜 Met you in the hallway by @neondiamond

(G, 4k, meet cute, drama teacher Louis, English teacher Harry, minor character death, mutual pining, fluff)

Drama teacher Louis has a crush on the new English literature teacher whose classroom is across the hallway from his.

💜 Teachers (series) by pixies / @tomlinbuns

(G, 300 words, teacher Louis, teacher Harry, last day of school, grocery store, Halloween)

AU where H/L are teachers and super in love

-Rare Pairs-

💜 The Teacher Trap by StormDancer / @zaynandhisboys

(E, 79k, Zayn/Harry, exes to lovers, teachers, second chances, meddling kids, NYC, social anxiety, smut)

With the help of meddling teenagers sure their teachers are in love, a few musical numbers, and a New York City winter, can Harry and Zayn get a second chance for happily ever after—the right way around this time?

💜 start off the day singing by @leighbot

(G, 6k, Zayn/Niall, teachers au, first grade teacher Zayn, music teacher Niall, first dates)

the one where Niall is an elementary school music teacher and Zayn's first graders are possibly Niall's favorite class... and not just because Mr. Malik has a pretty smile.

#trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #trackinghappily #fic rec #category rec #teacher fic rec #larry fan fic #larry fan fiction #ziall fic #zarry fic

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thekisforkeats · 4 years ago

Text

Love Languages

Info: The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, rated T probably for swears. Canon-Compliant. Set post-MAG 22, with a coda post-MAG 159. Everyone is ND and everyone is trans because that’s just how my personal S1 Archives gang rolls.

CWs: Mentions of ableism and Martin’s mother. I’d say canon-typical worms but the worms don’t really come up except in passing.

I do not know anything about BSL, so I did not try to describe the signs.

Summary: A love language is not just about how you best show love and affection; it is also about the ways you best receive love and affection. And so, for someone like Martin, who shows love by going out of his way to help others, someone going out of their way to help him, well. What better way for him to realize just how loved he is?

--------------------------------------------

The first time Martin went completely non-verbal after starting work in the Archives, it was the morning after giving Jon the statement about Jane Prentiss.

It wasn’t a surprising development, really. Martin didn’t go fully non-verbal that often, but when he did it was almost always a thing that started in the morning and lasted most of the day. Sometimes it wore off by the time he went to bed, sometimes it lasted until the next morning.

After his mother’s diagnosis, he’d been unable to speak for an entire week. That hadn’t gone over well--as much as his mother wanted him to be quiet, she didn’t like the “silent treatment,” as she called it.

Martin hated that she’d called it that, as though his non-verbal episodes were anything he did on purpose. Some days talking just felt like a chore; those days he could get by only forcing words out when he had to. But some days, the worst days, he just couldn’t talk. He could understand other people just fine, he could make noises, sometimes he could even hum. And he could definitely read and write. But speaking words, aloud? No. He could not speak, on these days, however much he may have wanted to.

As Martin grew older and learned more about himself, he learned words and reasons and coping mechanisms. He realized that some of the problem came from dysphoria and the longer he was on hormones the less often it happened. He realized that he was autistic (even if he never got diagnosed), and learned how to handle the episodes that still occurred. He took sign languages classes because it was a good and useful thing to know regardless, to be able to communicate with more people.

As many Deaf people had learned before Martin, he’d found himself in plenty of situations when nobody around him knew BSL, so he’d found a phone app that let him type out things he wanted to say and repeated them in a tinny, mechanical voice. Feminine, but he found it didn’t cause dysphoria; it wasn’t his voice. It was the app speaking for him, a robot lady translating his words.

Martin was fairly certain he was going to need the robot lady to speak for him today, and he was dreading the whole idea. The app got him a range of reactions from scorn to derision to faux sympathy. The last time he’d done so at work, the Institute library staff had regarded him with such pity that he’d called in sick the two other times it had happened since.

He’d woken early, because he was always awake fairly early, to ensure he looked presentable and got to work on time. He did not want Jonathan “Crisply Professional At All Times” Sims giving him that look again. The particular look that was “I highly disapprove of your sartorial choices but I’m not going to get into it right now because I have so very much else to do. Nonetheless, if I could fire you for what you’re wearing I would.”

Jon had a lot of looks. Martin fervently wished he could stop categorizing them; he very much disliked his boss, and very much wanted to stop thinking about Jon quite as much as he did.

Jon was attractive, that much Martin had noticed the first day he’d come in, with a jawline Martin would’ve loved to trace with his fingers, eyes sharp and deep and intelligent, salt-and-pepper hair that Martin would have tangled his fingers in gladly.

Except, of course, that Jon was also a prick who didn’t like Martin one bit and made that very clear. He’d put down on record that he thought Martin would “contribute nothing but delays.” Martin was not such a sucker for punishment that he would put up with someone who hated him just for a pretty face. The tiny potential blossom of a crush had been, well, crushed five seconds after it had poked its head above ground, by Jon’s declaration that he could dismiss Martin if he didn’t resolve the “dog situation” immediately.

Martin counted his lucky stars every day that Jon had not, in fact, dismissed him, despite having had to deal with a doggy mess. The luck was really in having Tim around, Martin figured; Jon actually seemed fond of Tim, and the other man had managed to smooth the entire situation over.

Martin had fallen asleep last night thinking about the new look Jon had given him yesterday: concerned. Truly, genuinely concerned, which had rather taken Martin aback. He’d been certain Jon wouldn’t believe him, would scoff and roll his eyes at the entire statement, and instead he’d just looked… concerned.

And then Jon had offered Martin the cot that he’d woken up in this morning.

It wasn’t the look of concern that had Martin non-verbal, though; of that he was certain. It was the stress of the last two weeks, and dumping out the statement yesterday, and all the whirl of figuring out how to live in the Archives. Jon’s insistence on going with him to pick up basics with a toothbrush at the convenience store, and then coming back to be sure he was okay. Jon finding clean sheets and discussing how he’d do his laundry. Jon had expensed clothing bought online to the Institute, including next-day shipping, because he’d “lost access to his flat and thus his wardrobe in the line of duty.” It had all been bewildering and overwhelming and it was no real surprise that Martin was in the state he found himself when he woke.

Martin had known as soon as he’d opened his eyes. It was just there, the feeling of nope can’t talk today. He’d pulled on his binder and the same clothing he’d worn the day before and then fumbled around for his phone. Which… he didn’t have. The damn worm-hive-lady had stolen it from him. Well, shit.

He managed to avoid having to figure out how to talk while he went out to get breakfast, just pointing at a scone in the display and smiling at the guy behind the counter as if he wasn’t secretly irritated by the price of everything in Chelsea. By the time Martin got back, Jon was already in his office, so thank God he’d avoided that awkward interaction. He went to make himself tea, and had his breakfast in the breakroom, and brushed his teeth, and then went to get started on…

Wait. He didn’t even know what they were working on right now.

Well, he wasn’t going to bother Jon about it; however nice he’d been last night it surely must have worn off by now, and Martin had no interest in summoning one of his boss’ looks this early in the morning. Normally he’d still be on his commute at this hour.

After a moment’s thought, he went to go see what they’d recorded in his absence, and soon had a stack of statements on his desk. They’d gotten through five statements in the two weeks he’d been gone. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe Martin did contribute “nothing but delays.”

Pushing the thought aside, Martin focused on listening to the tapes, and was just finishing up listening to the second half of Father Edwin Burroughs’ statement when Tim came into the shared office the assistants used.

“Hey, you’re in early. You get the email?”

Martin raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

Tim snorted. “Jon claims he’s got something to warn us about, something that ‘won’t parse properly through digital means.’” He rolled his eyes. “Which is Jon-speak for ‘it’s a weird thing and I don’t want to admit it’s a weird thing because I have to keep my skeptic hat on to preserve my self-image.”

Martin chuckled in solidarity, then gestured toward the door to Jon’s office, to indicate that’s where their boss was.

“Not coming?” Tim asked, his own eyebrow raised. When Martin shrugged, he said, “Well, I guess if you didn’t get the email…” Tim also shrugged, then said, “Guess I’d better get it over with. Wish me luck!”

Martin gave him a thumbs up.

When Sasha came in, Martin silently directed her to Jon’s office as well, then heaved a sigh of relief. He hadn’t had to explain being non-verbal at all yet, and it was already nine o’clock. Maybe if he was lucky, Jon would warn them off talking to him and he’d manage to make it the entire day without having to explain the whole “non-verbal” business to anyone he saw on a regular basis.

Alas, it was barely thirty minutes later that Tim and Sasha returned to talk to him, both wearing expressions of mingled concern and guilt. When they spoke it was a flood of the usual, expected platitudes:

“We’re so sorry!”

“We didn’t know!”

“Are you okay??”

And such like.

Martin shrugged and nodded and shook his head in all the right places, and evidently Jon had played them the tape of his statement so he didn’t have to explain it all again (thank God), and he thought maybe, maybe he could even figure out what statement they were working on right now if he just listened to their chatter after they were done with the niceties, but then…

Well. Then Timothy Stoker happened.

Which is to say, Tim actually looked at Martin, and said, “You’re being awfully quiet. You sure you’re okay?”

And then he and Sasha just… sat there, looking at him expectantly.

Martin sighed and reached for a piece of scrap paper and wrote, I’m autistic and sometimes I go non-verbal. Today’s one of those days, but I don’t have my phone anymore, so no communication app.

As he held up the paper so the others could read the words, Martin braced himself for the ensuing reactions. Pity, probably, like those in the Institute library, and he couldn’t even call in sick to avoid it; he’d rather have scorn and derision. At least those reactions were honest.

What he got from them was not pity, however, nor even scorn.

Sasha hummed. “Autism explains a lot, actually. Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

Tim grinned and clapped Martin on the shoulder. “Yeah, why didn’t you just say so? It’s fine, you’ve been through an ordeal. And so you know--you’re hardly the only neurodivergent in the Archives.”

Martin blinked at Tim, then wrote: Wait, what? Who…?

“Would you believe me if I said all of us?” Tim said with a grin. “I have ADD, Jon’s… well… he’s Jon, and as for Sasha…”

Sasha sighed in fond exasperation and cut in, “Tim…”

“I contend that you cannot be neurotypical, Ms. James. You fit in too well around here.”

“I am not admitting to anything on Institute property,” Sasha said with aplomb. “And you shouldn't have either, but here we are.” She looked at Martin. “If HR finds out and they give you any trouble, let us know and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Tim, in the meanwhile, pulled out his phone. “Here, go ahead and use mine for now, until your replacement gets here or whatever. What’s the app so I can install it for you?”

Martin’s jaw had dropped open. Tim having ADD made sense; what did he mean about Jon, though? And Sasha? And what did Sasha mean about HR? And… and why were they being so… nice? So… understanding? It wasn’t an act, or at least he didn’t think it was. They seemed… genuinely fine with it. Accepting, even.

It was the strangest thing Martin had experienced in a while, and that was including the worm-riddled woman who’d stood outside his door for two straight weeks.

From there the day just… went on as normal. Tim installed the app on the phone, Martin’s robot phone lady spoke for him, the three of them did their work, and everything was fine.

Until, of course, the nature of their work reared its ugly head. They were discussing the statement of Leanne Denikin, case #0051701, which they had yet to attach a pithy name to; hence the discussion. It had long since become standard practice to attach a name to the “weirder” statements, to make them easier to discuss. (Jon insisted on using the case numbers on tape still, which was annoying, given that was the only place he did that.)

Martin was reading through the statement, and he typed into Tim’s phone: What do you think of this bit? “Be still, for there is strange music.”

What came out of the phone’s speakers, however, was garbled static followed by high-pitched screeching that startled Martin so much he actually dropped the phone.

Jon was walking in just as this happened; he stopped in the doorway, blinking. “What on Earth was that?”

“Martin’s robot lady gave Tim’s phone an aneurysm, I think,” Sasha said, eyeing Martin as well.

Martin scrabbled on the floor for the phone, pulled up the app (which had crashed), and typed, I don’t know what happened!! I was just typing in something from one of the statements!

Jon frowned at him sharply. “What are you doing with Tim’s phone? Are you quite well?”

“No, Martin is not ‘quite well,’” Tim said. “Non-verbal for the day.”

Then Jon did something that stunned Martin: Jon signed at him, specifically, “Do you know sign language?” He spoke aloud as he said this, too, but also raised his eyebrows and gave a quizzical tilt to his head to convey that he was asking a question.

Martin blinked rapidly, then signed back: “Yes, actually. But Tim and Sasha don’t.”

Jon nodded, then said aloud, along with signing, “Why are you non-verbal, exactly?”

“I have autism,” Martin signed. “Sometimes talking is overwhelming and sometimes, especially in stressful situations, I can’t talk at all. Woke up that way today. It should be gone by tomorrow morning.” Why was he explaining so much more to Jon than he had to the others? Maybe just because Jon knew sign, and thus could communicate in a language Martin found much easier than even the typing.

Jon frowned thoughtfully, then nodded again. Then, still speaking and signing both, “What were you typing into your phone?”

“Be still, for there is strange music. From the statement.” Martin gestured to the statement on his desk.

Jon’s frown deepened and he repeated the words. “‘Be still, for there is strange music….’” His expression went slack for a moment, and then he shook himself. “Right. Well. Just… just… I’ll be right back.” Then he abruptly turned and left the room.

Tim and Sasha exchanged bewildered looks. Then Sasha asked, “Do you know what that was all about?”

“I forgot Jon knows BSL,” Tim replied thoughtfully. “Hard of hearing on one side. Not that he’d have agreed to interpret all day or anything.”

Martin shrugged. It’s alright, he typed. This works just fine.

“Well, no, obviously not for some things.” Jon had reappeared as suddenly as he’d disappeared, holding a small brown notebook the size of Martin’s hand. “Here,” he said, thrusting the notebook at Martin. “This will work better, for communicating about the statements. You needn’t use it with me, of course, unless signing is also taxing.”

Martin stared up at Jon. There was an entirely new look on his boss’ face. Not any level of scorn or sneer, nor even concern. He was… nervous. Fidgety. Like he was offering a gift that he was afraid might be rejected.

Something went flip in Martin’s stomach and it was like the entire world turned upside down. Suddenly, in light of Jon’s actions in the last 24 hours, he saw the way his boss had acted toward him the last six months for what it was: a defense mechanism. Armor pulled up around someone fragile and soft and sweet, someone so terrified of rejection that he went about making sure it happened preemptively so he wouldn’t be hurt.

Martin had a sudden, fierce desire to hug Jon and tell him everything would be okay. It was so bewildering a sensation--he didn’t even like the man! At all!--that he just took the notebook with a nod and a signed “Thank you,” eyes still very wide.

Jon nodded in return. “You’re welcome.” He let out a breath, and seemed to relax a little. “Well. Then. I think we’ve found the name for this one, given the way Tim’s phone reacted to those words. ‘Strange Music’ it is.” He straightened himself. “Tim, you said something about the organ reminding you of articles you’ve read…?”

Tim nodded, expression suddenly serious. “Yeah. I’ll see if I can find them for you.”

“Right. Well, then, Sasha, if I could ask you to look through the Archive like we talked about? I’m certain we’ve had a statement from Jane Prentiss.” Jon then turned to Martin. “And if you wouldn’t mind helping me with ‘Schwarzwald?’ You used to work in the library, right?”

Martin was still staring at Jon in confusion, but nodded.

Jon actually smiled at him. Faintly. “Well, then, I’m certain you must know where to find the German history reference books, if you could go grab whatever they’ll let you bring down?”

The strangest thing about it was, Jon seemed sincere. Like he actually believed Martin did, indeed, know the library well enough to just… go up there and find the German history reference books. The faint, confident-in-his-assistant smile was a new look, at least directed at Martin; he’d seen Jon look at Tim and Sasha that way many times before.

Martin’s stomach was doing cartwheels. There were butterflies taking up residence in his intestines. His heart was pounding. How had he never noticed how nice Jon’s smile was? Soft and small, like he was afraid to let it actually take up residence on his face for too long.

Oh, God, oh, no. Martin could not fancy his boss. Jon hated him. Or, well, no, evidence suggested that perhaps Jon did not hate him, but Jon most certainly did not fancy him. This crush had to disappear, just as fast as it had come. This would not do.

He was going to be writing poetry again tonight, wasn’t he? Crap.

“Martin?” Jon’s tone was concerned rather than sharp, and the way Jon said his name made Martin want to sink into the floor.

Instead, he scribbled furiously in the notebook and held it up so all three of the others could see: Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about where that’d be. I’ll bring them down as soon as I find them.

Jon practically beamed at Martin’s use of the notebook and he nodded briskly. “Right! I’ll be in my office when you have the books, then.” He started to turn away.

Martin’s heart went pound pound pound because oh wow Jon was really cute when he let that smile take up more of his face. Throwing caution to the wind, he made a noise to get the other man’s attention.

Jon turned around, quirking a brow. “Yes, Martin?”

Martin signed, “Tea?” He, too, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to indicate the question.

Jon nodded. “Tea would be lovely, yes.” He smiled at Martin for a brief moment, and then suddenly looked flustered. He glared at them all. “Anyway,” he snapped in his ‘boss’ voice, the impact of which was ruined by the flush rising in his cheeks, “there’s still work to be done. So let’s… do it.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the office.

Had Jon blushed because Martin had offered him tea? Did Jon like his tea that much? Was Martin imagining things? He had to be imagining things. He put his head down on the desk and wrapped his arms over it so he could grab at handfuls of hair. What was happening to him?

Sasha tried to make her voice serious, but couldn't quite manage it past quite clearly holding back giggles. “Mourn for poor Martin, working alone with Jon.” She looked at Tim. “We should call HR preemptively, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Nah, I think Jon’s softening on our boy,” Tim said with a laugh. He reached over to ruffle Martin’s hair with one hand while he took his phone back with the other. “Don’t worry, Marto. I told you he’d come around one day.”

Martin looked up at Tim with a stricken, betrayed expression. In the notebook: Is this how you comfort me in my hour of need??

Sasha shook her head. “For once, Tim’s being serious. You weren’t in the room when Jon explained things to us. He’s worried about you, he doesn’t want you to have to leave the Institute alone, he doesn’t want you to have to look for the Prentiss statement in case it’s ‘too traumatic’ for you to run across on your own. He actually asked us if we thought we should avoid any mention of Prentiss altogether in your presence.”

“I told him no,” Tim said. “I hope that was okay. You seem like you’d rather deal with trauma by facing it and figuring it out, rather than avoiding it entirely.”

Matin gaped at them. Really? he wrote. Jon’s… worried about me? Really? As if he hadn’t seen the evidence just now that Jon was, indeed… softening.

Tim gave Martin a very serious look. “I’ve told you before… I’ve known Jon, well, not as long as I’ve known Sasha, but for a long while now. He’s prickly and thorny, even to people he cares about, but that’s a front and I’ve said so. You just didn’t believe me.”

“In Martin’s defense,” Sasha put in, “Jon’s been awfully ‘prickly and thorny’ to him specifically.”

Tim put up a hand. “Oh, I agree. I have had words with our dear boss about the way he treats Martin, largely because I’m one of the few people he might actually listen to.” He looked at Martin. “I don’t want to take the credit, because it’s really been a remarkably fast turnaround, but I’d like to think I helped, a little.”

Martin frowned thoughtfully. Thank you, he wrote. If Jon’s at ‘I can stand Martin’ instead of ‘Martin is the source of all bad that happens in the Archives’ work might be… better than tolerable, for once.

“That’s the spirit!” Tim said with a grin. “Now, then, Jon did say to get back to work…”

Jon gave Martin another of those soft smiles when Martin brought in the tea, a smile which widened on seeing the stack of books he carried in right after. That afternoon, spent sitting and going through books and discussing the Schwarzwald statement, was the first of many they’d spend together, reading and talking and comparing notes.

Martin was feeling verbal again the next morning, but he kept the notebook. If nothing else, it was a good place to jot down poetry. And it came in handy when he found himself unable to speak the morning after Jane Prentiss’ attack on the Archives.

And the morning after Jon confronted him about his CV.

And the morning after Jon disappeared, leaving Jurgen Leitner’s body at his desk. (Martin blamed that on the corridors more than the body, really.)

Funnily enough, he didn’t need it the morning after the Unknowing. But he kept it with him that day all the same, the first gift Jon had ever given him, and one of the few things he had left of him with Jon in a coma.

--------------------------------------------

When they reached Daisy’s safehouse in Scotland, Martin had hoped he’d somehow manage to dodge the threat of going non-verbal. He’d been the one to drive the car, over Jon’s protests; it was something to focus on, to keep him remembering he was alive and real. He’d clutched the wheel and driven north north north with Jon giving directions in the passenger seat.

Martin had finally figured out that it was the chance to stop and think about trauma that led to his being non-verbal, which was why it was almost always a thing that hit in the morning. Adrenaline would keep him running after a stressful event, and then he’d carry himself through the rest of the day trying to clean up whatever mess had been caused. But sleep was enough for his body and brain to both tell him to stop, to process, to deal with whatever he’d run into.

It was possible, in hindsight, that he’d gone non-verbal more than once since the Unknowing and just hadn’t noticed because he’d been barely interacting with anyone. He’d certainly had a bad bout the morning after his mother’s funeral, dealing with so much misgendering and fake smiles. And there had been more than enough trauma to try to process in the past year, so it must have happened before.

He’d just really, really hoped it wouldn’t now, because he didn’t want to put Jon through that. (Why he thought he was putting Jon through anything he didn’t really want to examine. It made him feel Lonely, and that was bad.)

At any rate, the realization of why he went non-verbal had led to him keeping busy in order to hold it off, in order to hold himself together. So he drove, and he puttered about the cabin poking into cupboards, and he talked to Jon, and he talked to the shop lady in the village, and he brought back food and made dinner with Jon, and everything was good and fine.

And then he woke up the next morning, in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, and he could not speak.

There was the smell of bacon and eggs and pancakes cooking, and Martin made his bleary way out into the main room of the cabin and peered at Jon, already up and dressed and cooking.

His boyfriend turned to look at him and smiled, one of those soft smiles Martin had come to love so much. “Sleep well?”

"Not really,” Martin signed. “I mean…” He gestured at his throat.

Jon nodded. “I figured you might feel that way this morning. I, uhh… hold on a moment, I need to….” He grabbed the pan of bacon and moved it off the heat, pulled a pancake off the griddle and deposited it on a plate, then turned off the stove and went to poke around in one of the bags.

Martin chuckled fondly. “What’re you looking for?”

Jon was still digging through his bag. “When I was grabbing essentials at the store, back in London, I was thinking, you’ve been through a lot, and the notebook I gave you before must be full if you even have it anymore. I know you were writing poetry in it, and… oh, here we go.”

Jon came up with another small notebook. This one was not plain and brown, the way the first one he’d gifted Martin all those years ago had been. This one was black, and had silvery stars on its cover that, as Jon held out the book and thus tilted it through the light, shimmered into rainbows.

“Just in case, you know, the shop lady doesn’t know BSL.”

Martin blinked at the notebook.

“It, uhh… I know it’s not your usual style,” Jon said, his voice suddenly nervous. He was looking down at the notebook as he spoke, instead of at Martin. “Not… retro. But… I saw it and I thought of you.” He paused. “That tape, where you were talking to Simon Fairchild. He talked about the ‘cosmic scale,’ and how we’ve never even been alive on that time frame, and you said… what was it? You said, ‘I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.’ And I just… that was… maybe the most… it was very… you. And there were other options, flowers or cursive writing, o-or… I don’t know, they all seemed so obvious, but this…”

Jon swallowed, and finally looked up at Martin. “I thought, after the Lonely, you might like a reminder that, you have value. That… that to me, you shine as bright as any star.” And then he flushed, and Martin knew it was for him, just as he now knew the flushes about tea all those years ago had also been for him.

Martin was gaping. Oh. Oh. Jon… loved him. Which he’d known, intellectually, but the emotional knowledge of it hit him suddenly, took his breath away. He knew it, all at once, in that “oh we could spend the rest of our lives together” way he’d never really thought he’d ever feel.

Jon had clearly misinterpreted the expression; he started stammering, “I-if… it it’s bad, I can… well, no, I can’t take it back, stupid, I should’ve just grabbed the one that had--”

Martin cut him off by reaching out to take the notebook from Jon and reached out with his other hand to cup the shorter man’s cheek. He smiled, and because he’d realized long ago how well Jon responded to physical touch, he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.

Then he pulled back to put the notebook aside on the counter and signed, “It’s perfect. Thank you.” A pause, and then, “I love you.”

Jon smiled, both speaking and signing, “I love you, too.”

And for once in his life, Martin knew that to be true, and trusted that knowledge. He was loved. He had been loved, and he would be loved for the rest of his life, whatever state his voice was in.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #jon sims #jonathan sims #jon the archivist #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #archives gang #otp: one way or another together #fanfic #my fanfic #ableism tw #jmart #canon tma fic

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mimzy-writing-online · 4 years ago

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How do you handle casual ableism especially ableism that’s said to be “a joke”? I am blind and I get this all the time and it’s so annoying because I can’t win.

If it’s said by someone I know I probably won’t talk to much, if ever again, I just grin and bear it. If I’m invested in this friendship or know I’ll be working with them a lot, then I’ll say something. But I do have some personal pet-peeves.

“Oh, so you’re blind, but not like, blind-blind.”

Whenever I explain to someone new that I’m visually impaired and what I see, I sometimes get the “oh, so you’re blind, but not like, blind-blind.” and I just... *internal screaming*

I hate it because it reinforces this hierarchy of “who has it worst in the world” that abled society has. It’s like saying, “oh, you’re blind, but at least you don’t have cancer.” That is insensitive to both people who are blind, people who have cancer, and people who have both.

Everyone is going through their own stuff, and sometimes it feels debilitating and sometimes it feels normal. Undermining someone’s experiences by saying/implying someone has it worse is terrible and even worse is using that idea to say “oh, then you don’t need this accommodation that badly, you’re not disabled-disabled.”

I am blind. Just blind. I have a condition that highly affects my life and just because there are a few settings where I can pass for sighted, does not mean that I am not blind.

And those people feed my internalized ableism and imposter syndrome so that I begin to think “I’m not that blind, people have so much less sight than me” and begin to feel like I don’t deserve any of my accommodations, even my cane when my worst days hit. My cane, that thing I bought myself that affects no one apart from warning them I can’t see them, but means everything to me.

What I would like to say: “I am blind. What I’m describing might sound like no big deal to you, but it affects my life every day and I will never, under any circumstances, see as much as a sighted person. Please stop comparing my disability to other disabilities.”

“Can you use your cane as a weapon?”

It was funny the first 3-4 times I heard it, but strangers say it to me constantly and it’s just like... “oh, them Lakers” or “How’s the weather up there” or some other cliché joke that has been told to death. And these strangers don’t realize how unoriginal it is because they probably never interact with other blind people, but I hear it all the fricken time.

I’ve explained to friends that I don’t like this joke. And I have an example of it in A Witch’s Memory, specifically Ulric’s second chapter. But like, I cannot control what strangers think is funny.

What I would like to say: “I cannot. Canes are much more fragile than you think, and each one has cost me $50 each. And I’ve had... six? Over the years. And they take weeks to ship to me. I would be terrified of my cane getting damaged.”

“I bet you’re looking forward to robot eyes.”

No. I’m not. I’m really not. Leave my eyes the fuck alone.

This was waaaaaay before I was diagnosed with Visual Snow Syndrome, which is a neurological problem, not an eye problem, even if the symptoms that affect me most are visual.

And as for the ableism, there’s soooo so much in that statement:

“Oh, I bet you’re looking forward to getting cured”

“I think being blind is terrible, I would want robot eyes immediately”

And if I said that I didn’t want robot eyes ever, I’d almost always get:

“I bet it wouldn’t be that bad, you’d be a cyborg. How cool is that?”

I said no the first time. Respect that answer. It’s my body, my eyes. I’m so tired of this debate.

The only form of this conversation I will ever accept is from my best friend who admitted that he personally would jump at the chance for cybernetic enhancements, especially something that reduced chronic pain. There are some more personal issues I won’t disclose, but from his perspective I understood and we came to the acceptance that we had very different stances and that was okay so long as we respected each other’s choices.

What I would like to say: “I have considered this and personally decided that under no circumstances would I ever want this kind of surgery done to me. Please respect that choice and don’t joke about experimental surgeries with me.”

“Just consider me your personal human guide dog.”

Only one person has ever said this to me, but he’s said it several times while acting as my sighted guide and I hate it, not because there is any ableism directed at me, but because he’s calling himself less than human and I wish he treated himself better. He deserves better. My solution is just saying nice things to him every chance I get about how much I care about him and how he is good.

“Fuck you! I love you! Don’t you dare call yourself a dog. You’re amazing and I love you.”

“Well you’re able-bodied.”

Said to me by another person with a disability, specifically a chronic illness, while complaining about why I couldn’t do something for him.

It was my father.

and I just...

I have literally never not been disabled in some capacity.

I remember my ADHD affected me from the early age of six years old and how much that affected my self esteem. I started having chronic health problems (mostly due to anxiety) as soon as I entered my teenage years. The worst was when I was 19. And then I went blind.

I am in no way able-bodied. Do not throw this hierarchy of who’s more disabled at me. I physically cannot handle the task you asked me to do without physical pain following me for the rest of the day. It’s either going to have to get done by someone else, or I’m going to need help. Why do I need to be in pain all day for this?

You’re young, therefore you are able-bodied.

You means nothing in terms of disability! Lots of people are disabled, visibly and invisibly. And if your kid needs disability aids to perform normal tasks like walking safely outside, you shouldn’t be calling them able bodied.

What I would like to say: “I am not able bodied. I am far from it. What you’re asking me to do will either risk serious injury to me or will cause me serious, lasting pain. Please respect my physical limitations.”

“And on your right you and hear, smell, taste, touch the ocean.”

It was a joke by a close friend when we were on a road trip. Also, we were in a car on the freeway, literally, none of those things would be possible from that distance because all I would hear and smell would be car fumes.

Like, okay, I know I can’t enjoy the scenic view the way sighted people can, but I am enjoying this drive in my own way. Even the visuals I can see are nice(ish). It’s stimulation, something different for my brain. I’m having fun listening to the music and your story while we move and there are shapes and faded colors passing us.

I’m experiencing this amazing road trip.

Maybe it’s not the way you would experience or best enjoy it, but I am having fun, don’t spoil it by reminding me that I’m different from you and that my experience “must be less enjoyable.”

I told him: “I don’t like those jokes. They aren’t funny to me. I don’t need to see it to enjoy it.” And he stopped. He never made another one after that drive.

(He’s also one of those people who has serious anxiety around making someone uncomfortable, and me telling him “hey I don’t like this, can we do this instead” actually helps us both, because I’m no longer uncomfortable and he can trust that I would immediately tell him if he ever did something I didn’t like. If I’m not speaking up, then I am good. And I can trust that he will stop as soon as I tell him to, and that I can always speak up if I need to.)

#Anonymous #disability #actuallyblind #cripplepunk #ableism #ableism tw #blindness #mimzy things #there are probably a dozen or more reoccurring jokes but my brain is tired #I'm gonna make myself go to bed...#eventually #adhd is being a pain #just end the task already #but I have music playing and I like this playlist #long sigh

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skunked-up-kicks · 4 years ago

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About Allison yeah. I think people acknowledge she’s a bit ableist and classist but they erase the fact she was fine/complicit with Seth’s homophobia and treatment of Nicky (tbh it seems like all the upperclassmen were??) + what that post said. This isn’t hate I love Allison! But I think she’s much more interesting as a character with flaws that make sense with her upbringing and backstory rather than just #girlboss.

okay my response to this is ungodly long so, if you're interested...

1. her ableism

the thing is when people do acknowledge her ableism it's always with how she treats andrew (which makes sense cause it's the most obvious, and they're not wrong) but it kinda results in an issue. the way these fics that acknowledge this usually go is that allison calls andrew 'monster' and maybe talks about how he's 'psychotic' or something. then it goes one of few ways:

1) neil tells her (and usually all the upperclassmen as they get grouped together seeing as they all do this) not to speak about andrew like that, maybe he threatens her or something. the problem with this is that he's just scaring her into being silent, her mindset doesn't actually change.

2) neil gives a speech about how andrew is actually good, and generally how he's 'not as bad as she thinks' or something. now correct me if i'm wrong, but the issue i see with this is that, it's not actually telling her that her mindset about people with mental illnesses and/or trauma is wrong- just that andrew isn't the right person to direct her ableism too, but there are people out there who are 'as bad as she thinks'. it's kinda like the attitude that as long as andrew does enough to redeem himself he can be treated as human and not a 'monster' which is... yeah.

3) basically the same issue as the last one, andrew proves he's actually good because allison and the others see him do something outwardly affectionate. thereby proving he is actually all good now.

sometimes fics have a mix of these but basically the thing is that her ableism is never actually 'fixed' (for lack of a better word). most that happens is that it's no longer directed at andrew, but this is a worldview that she has, it's not just a dislike of andrew- realistically it's not just isolated to him.

to clarify though, i'm genuinely not intending to shame people who write these fics cause they are acknowledging her ableism, which is good. and similar with how people approach aarons homophobia, it's incredibly hard to write someone overcoming a prejudice. i certainly couldn't do it, and realistically maybe it's not somethìng that can be done in a fic. given that often it's a long-term process where you have to check yourself often.

it's especially complicated because she somehow needs to come to the realization that villifying andrew isn't right because despite the wrong that he has done- and he has done wrong, we can't deny that- he is still a person deserving of at least the deceny to not be compared to a monster and dehumanised in that way. she needs to realise that while andrew shouldn't do those things and can be called out for it, that the way he acts is a product of his trauma. BUT he is still responsible for his actions, and while she can rightfully choose to not associate with andrew, she shouldn't discourage others from doing so in the way that she does. it really is complicated and there's a lot of nuance there which makes it a hard topic to deal with cause... how do you write someone learning that?

but yeah, that's my thoughts on that.

2. her classism

i honestly don't see people acknowledge this a lot? i think one of the ways we see it manifest is how she talks about the way neil dresses... and in fics she often insists neil buys better clothes, usually more expensive ones. which is portrayed usually as her being a caring friend, which i get, but i think neil would actually find this really annoying lol.

i think an interesting way to look at her classism would be in her and dans relationship given the extreme differences they grew up. same thing with her relationship with seth, as he grew up poor too.

with seth, she might have sometimes been ashamed of the way he acted and dressed, maybe of the way he spoke too...? i can picture them fighting over that and her being a bitch about it. she would probably speak badly about the place seth grew up in too..

with dan, i feel like dan might get frustrated when allison, for example, doesn't know how much ordinary things cost (a thing a lot of celebs have shown to have no knowledge of). or dan might even get jealous or angry at the way allison can just throw away her moneyvand buy things carelessly (think of her reaction when her car got trashed, she could just get another 'toy'), while she was brought up saving money at any instance she could.

not much to say on this tbh... i think it would be cool to see this explored a bit more though.

3. complicit in homophobia

someone made a post on here about how allison would be the type of girl to preach equality while having a homophobic boyfriend... and yeah.. that's it really lol, hit the nail on the head.

again, a lot of people make her very progressive and woke, and i think this is tied to the very common hc of her being bi. (despite the fact that when betting on neils sexuality she doesn't consider bi an option which makes me think she is canonically straight..). i think it's hard for people to address the fact that she is complicit in homophobia while also headcanonning her as bi, cause it seems like she wouldn't be if she actually was bi. from my knowledge, bi women (and bi ppl in general) not being supportive of gay people and/or not standing up against homophobia isn't really a common issue? (pls correct me if i am wrong though) usually prejudice goes the other way due to the biphobia in the LGBTQ+ community. so it's hard to think about and write about.

when it comes to the other upperclassmen, i seem to remember dan and matt standing up against seth? though i could be remembering that wrong or getting it confused with a fic.

4. #girlboss

i highly agree with you that she really does just get reduced to just a #girlboss a LOT. and i think the same thing happens with the other female characters... i mean, just look at katelyn. there's no evidence that she is some kind of badass but many want to make her one.. but she can be an interesting character without having to fit this ideal #girlboss.

i understand wanting to make female characters cool and badass but in the process it feels like we're losing variety... i personally don't want the exact same personality and way of acting plastered onto every female character.

a strong female character is not defined by how much they can kick a guy in the balls but rather how well they are written, and to be written well they need flaws. and when making female characters #girlbosses we usually lose the flaws :(

like you said, this isn't to hate on allison. i just think sometimes we miss the parts of her character that make her truly interesting.. and i think that's a real shame..

anyway, i think that that's all that i had to say lol. if you read up till this point, thank you! and thank you for the ask anon :)

#oof this was long lol #ask #mine #aftg #allison reynolds #cw ableism #cw biphobia #cw homophobia #cw classism #i think thats everything..?

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omegawolverine · 4 years ago

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I know you posted it days ago but you said something about wanting to rant about either karl or his fanbase and its been itching at my brain. Ive no clue whats happening or what is happening at all cause no one seems to be making clear points?? Or explaining anything?

Obviously you do NOT have to talk about it im sure it might be a sore point to rant because people can get SO needlessly rude to others over it. But if you want to idk explain? Just rant? Im definetly curious what it was over or about.

The "you dont need to talk about this" is amplified by the fact i am DAYS late and you are probably over it by now.

okay hi yes im happy to talk about this but i think i should preface with two things:

1) even tho it may seem like im biased towards him or being very defensive of him im actually a super casual karl viewer and the only reason i am super defensive of him sometimes is bc we act a lot alike irl and that is mainly because of our neurodivegency. when i say a lot i mean we share traits like "annoying" stimming (jumping around, making loud noises, repeating the same phrases until everyone is sick of hearing them), the difficulty reading situations, the very obvious issues with volume control and not just bouncing from subject to subject to subject as we fucking please. basically anything you've seen karl do on stream that is Very Neurodivergent ive done the same in my own way which is why i get defensive when i see people calling him annoying or saying they dont like him, usually for these types of reasons. that being said, when i say im a very casual karl viewer, i fucking mean it. i usually only watch him when he's streaming with other ccs i like or when he's doing chill alt streams bc even with the annoying donos, he's pretty relaxing and comforting when he's just fucking around by himself and he isnt trying to get as hype as he would on a main channel stream. so yeah, it may seem like im biased and sure, i guess i am on some level, but it's not coming from a place of me hyperfixating on him or me even loving him as a cc, it's coming from me being a neurodivergent who likes him just enough to get upset when i see people basically being casually ableist towards him.

2) i dont have all the facts or even a great understanding on what the fuck has been happening recently with his "drama"...mostly bc he talked about it on his priv, which im not on, and people are gatekeeping the tweets, as they always do, and basically making you "dm to see them" (which is already a problem in and of itself bc apparently in these tweets he said he didnt want them being ss and shared, yet they are being shared thru dms over and over and over again like. at that point just stop withholding the information and post the fucking shit, you clearly dont care that he said "dont share"). additionally, most of the threads ive seen on this situation havent actually explained the initial issue, just talked about his apology (a lot of people have said "it's bad" but havent said why and with no screenshots ((i havent asked for someone to dm me them and i still havent seen them posted, which is mildly surprising, but incredibly frustrating at this point)), i only have a few basic details i can actually assess it on) or they talked about the initial issue in very vague details so um. excuse me trying to explain this now, but ill try and make it make sense with how little ive actually pieced together.

(oh, also, here's my first rant about the ableism in this fandom which is way more broad. this is a pretty different rant from that one, but they're both pretty big reasons why i hate this fandoms treatment of karl)

so basically the problems started with mr beast being apart of a charity stream that donated either to autism speaks or to a similar company, im unsure on that part. im also unsure on if the people participating in the stream actually knew of this or not bc, from what i remember, the money was being donated to a separate organization that was like. under the bad company or some shit like that, idk how stuff like that works and also i read about this shit months ago bc this originally happened months ago and just sorta came to a head recently.

anyways, i think karl was supposed to be apart of this stream but pulled out of it right before (that or these were two separate streams and karl was supposed to participate in the first but pulled out while mr beast did both?? idk. regardless karl did not actually participate, just mr beast). from there people started doing the guilt from association bullshit they always do, this was also doubled by the fact that the chris being racist stuff came out sometime around then and basically he got dragged all over twitter for "being ableist" and "supporting racists" and i cant remember if he actually apologized when this originally happened or not. i vaguely remember him apologizing about something back then but i genuinely dont know if it was this or something else.

basically that died down eventually, a good chunk of people unstanned him but him and honktwt didnt end up getting the lovely lil technotwt treatment and they still havent yet, surprisingly. good for them honestly ajsksk

but now we get to the past few weeks and apparently something happened with him "laughing at someone saying the r slur" (it was mizkif, i believe), specifically when it was directed at other people, which is a big yikes, obviously, but when karl was called out for this a lot of people kind of. made this into a situation that it wasnt bc um. basically karl didnt laugh at it, he gave a few nervous giggles, as people often do when in a situation like that (and karl specifically said he does this in the one part of his apology tweet which i did stumble upon, although it wasnt the important part of the apology thread bc why would it be) and people fucking crucified him for it. they quite literally dragged a neurodivergent man for supposedly "laughing at the r slur" when he can literally reclaim it and also he was just nervous laughing.

and this is where the situation just gets really bad because they. basically forced him to admit that he was autistic on his priv to apologize for this. i havent seen the screenshots of him saying this, but i saw people discussing it and i am frankly so fucking pissed about this because sure, it was a bad situation, and i understand people wanting an explanation, but an apology? for a neurodivergent man nervous laughing at a slur he can reclaim? and then forcing the man to admit something he literally said in that tweet he didnt want people to know which is why people were being so gatekeepy about it while also LOUDLY discussing the situation, as if that wouldnt drive MORE PEOPLE to look for screenshots and ways to get ahold of this information? and then people had the audacity to call it a "bad apology" when they had quite literally just violated his privacy by forcing him to admit something that he shouldnt have needed to share in the first place if he didnt want to, which he didnt.

and this is why im so pissed off. karl is already constantly picked at and made fun of and called annoying for his neurodivergent traits, things which he literally cant help, things which are generally harmless, and now he was forced into a situation where he can now be further picked at and made fun of and called annoying bc they forced him to admit something private instead of just understanding and accepting that he had been nervous laughing at someone using a slur he has definetly been called for his neurodivergency.

tldr of my thoughts: yes i think karl needed to address this situation, it definetly looked bad, but twitter stans have this sense of entitlement with their ccs and because of that, they consistently take it way too far and harm the people they claim to care about so dearly. we've seen it happen time and time again with dream, but this is the first time ive seen them basically force someone to out themselves to make their apology "valid" and most of them still seem to not want to accept it anyways, which just makes me feel bad for him bc now that info is out their and people are just disregarding it to continue "holding him accountable".

anyways, i think that's all i can really say on this topic rn tbh, if anyone else knows this situation better please feel free to lmk clarifications and ill add them in since, like i said, i know fuck all thanks to twitter being so goddamn hush hush about the important details while simultaneously being the loudest mfers about how much they hate karl now instead of just fucking unfollowing and moving on.

thanks for the ask and im sorry if this is confusing!! i just think this is one of those weird situations where like. i think karl deserved some criticism for what happened and how he handled it or at least he shouldve been asked to address it but that just. isnt what happened, at all. he was harrassed. karl got harrassed and because of that he handled this situation even more sloppily than he probably wouldve and exposed private info about himself that he didnt feel comfortable doing and it just. fucking sucks tbh.

#shit self #asks #karl jacobs #discourse #fandom critical #mcyt fandom critical #dsmp fandom critical #ask to tag #ableism #only reason im even saying what he said in those tweets is bc this situation literally makes no sense otherwise and basically everyone on #twt already fucking exposed this shit to people in and outside the fandom by bitching #long post #bangerz

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