#the books like about the cycle of violence and abuse

[geoffrey]

you fucking ... you dont get anything at all you bastard... just because the actual plot is that the house is evil doesnt mean it doesnt have subtext... google the shining novel symbolism you rat bastard. does this person read the masque of the red death and go "well it would've been cooler if it was a metaphor for rich people not being able to escape their inevitable death rather than like... a ghoul just killing them :///"

[cowboypossume]

the hunger games 🤝 it ends with us

Being marked/ropped in as a love story typa of rom com when that is the exact opposite of the point

[laniidae-passerine]

Honestly I think Dean Highbottom has some shit to answer to as well. The mockery, the derision, the outright admittance that he was hoping Coriolanus would fail and the Snow family would continue to suffer. How someone who loathed the Games still treated a young man with cruelty because of the past, because of social divides that would be so easy to tear down. In the end, it wasn’t just Gaul who shaped Snow into the man he became. So bitter and hateful. So incapable of compassion and forgiveness. Just like his father. Just like his Dean.

[balkanradfem]

I don't get to talk about feminism in real life, because it's not an accepted topic here, it's an 'evil harpy movement' still, despite it getting women the right to vote, own property, own a bank account, be able to be paid for work. The consenus is that normal women don't need to be feminists, we already have the right to vote so what more could we possibly want. I do get to talk with young women about it! When I have some teenagers or young adult women in my life, I am telling them all about it, showing them all the violence statistics, instructing them on all possible methods of abortion, and they are genuinely stunned to gain this information they've never had access to before.

But yesterday, I was at plant lady's house, and I breached the topic of feminism, because I had just entered a feminist book club, and joined a little group of croatian radfems, so I was all up in my ideas about it. And I love the plant lady, she's a beloved figure in my life, but she is both against feminism, and a huge fan of conspiracy theories. So when I started talking about feminism, she interrupted me to tell me that she heard that women, are not in fact, responsible for feminism, but it's actually males in power that are pulling the strings. I explained that we don't even allow m*n to participate in what we do, but she was sure she's right, because, males in power thought it would be cool for women to have jobs and pay taxes, so they invented feminism, to collect more taxes and have more workers. And I knew I couldn't argue her about it because conspiracy theories exist to null every argument against them, right, no matter what I say, she'll have a more incredible explanation. So instead I changed the topic to the problems of sexual violence against women, domestic violence, normalization of pedophilia, and treatment of women like objects due to rampant pornography.

And she's like, no, that doesn't happen, most people are normal and have normal marriages and treat women normally, and these problems, are not the problems of 'feminism', these are things everyone is against – and I say no they're not, m*n don't care, they don't fight against any of it, in fact they're the perpetrators of 90% of these crimes. Then she launches into a story of an abused woman who refused to leave her husband because she loved him. I explain to her that this is incredibly common and it's called 'cycle of abuse', and we can resolve this by teaching women very early on about this cylce, that it can easily happen to them no matter what kind of husband they choose, and to recognize the signs early, before it comes to worst, and for women who are going trough it, they need all this euducation too. What is happening currently is nobody is talking about it and we pretend it doesn't exist and then victim-blame women when they get abused. Most abused women don't even recognize they're being abused because they're being isolated and told it's their own fault. Then she launched into another story about a woman who she knows was battered who escaped. Then she mentioned another situation she knew with a violent husband, and another with a drunk one. And I'm listening to her like. Hey. You said this doesn't even happen, that it's incredibly rare, but you personally know this many cases? And you know me, I've been living in violence too, remember?

And she just looks at me. Realizing for a second that it's not that rare. She didn't argue with me. She previously really thought about each and every case she knew as an outlier, something so improbable and rare that it wasn't really a social problem. She told me then, that we can't really help these people, because police only makes it worse, so what do we even do. I told her it's important that we talk about it, that we offer resources and teach women early on to recognize abuse, and to make a point of not blaming women for it, to make it clear any male could do it to them at any point, to be ready for it, to reconsider marrying, to have a separate bank account, to never let their survival and housing be completely dependant on a male.

I also indulged her to think why women can find themselves in these situations in the first place? If we're so equal, how come it's possible women don't have anywhere to go to, and need to stay in the abusers house to just survive. I said it has something to do with parents usually leaving their houses and properties to sons, and expecting daughters to move into their husbands places, and she again said 'no this doesn't happen', and I went 'well why don't these abused women just move into their own houses they inherited from their parents' and she again, had no arguments. It's not the sole reason though, women earn less too, get less promotions, get paid less for the same job, still mostly do unpaid labour, dedicate a big part of their life to raising children on their own, they don't get to accumulate funds and properties in the same ways m*n do.

Anyway, while we were having this entire conversation, her 18yo daughter was there, listening to us, and miraculously, she seemed to agree with me! When the plant lady claimed 'there's so many normal ones out there', the daughter interrupted to say 'no mom, there's no normal m*n out there, I can't find anyone normal', and I immediately supported her claim with agreement. I was so happy to be a little feminist influence on her and to validate her point! She was also wearing a shirt that said 'grl pwr' and I was like 'yes this is great' even though it's just a liberal catchphrase, it's still a sign of wanting women to have power in the world that doesn't believe a word they say.

I think the type of attitude the plant lady has is extremely common for women in our country, in fact she was very receptive to what I was saying. She knew about this many cases of domestic abuse, because she was often the safe person for these women to tell, and she has been helping the ones who escaped, me included.

Most women I know will launch in defense of males and trashing of women as soon as you mention feminism, because it's the only socially accepted thing to do. I believe we all have women in our lives who are not malicious or terribly ignorant, but affected by the mainstream beliefs that women are asking for too much, already have everything, and are at fault for everything that happens to them; this is incredibly pervasive and impossible to debate in a conversation. It's so ingrained in women to go against anything that makes m*n look bad, it's almost considered a sin and a hate crime to even think this way. Like something a bad, selfish, bitter, irrational and greedy woman would do, and nobody wants to be dubbed that. I remember thinking this way myself when I was a teen; I wanted to hold males responsible so bad, but the shame of being seen as this hateful and bitter person was getting to me, to the point where I would silent down and not speak out.

I used to get so angry at anti feminists, and would avoid indulging with the topic because it would irritate me so much, but I've gained more understanding as I go on, and can now tolerate the opposing arguments when I know they've come from propaganda and social pressure, rather than ignorance or hunger for approval. I'm more effective being able to indulge a little! Not a lot though. If I spent a lot of my time trying to argue with anti-feminists I would in fact, wither and die.

[thethiefandtheairbender]

as a lifelong ATLA fan who narrowly had ATLA dethroned as my top show by The Dragon Prince steadily over the past 5 years, the similarities between the two have very little to do with the surface level parallels that get regularly drawn between them.

Like ATLA, TDP has Books for seasons and chapters for episodes, but unlike ATLA, which only touched on storytelling sparingly as a theme, TDP is obsessed with interrogating storytelling and history and the presence of unreliable, biased narrators throughout many of its episodes (most notably 2x05, 2x06, 3x06, 4x04, and 4x07 among them). Half of what you learn in the 1x01 intro ends up being a lie once you reach S3, with more being steadily deciphered.

Yes, TDP has different magics with people living under those umbrella terms... for the elves. Humans are coming culturally at things from a completely different angle, and the elves' connection to their primal sources are discussed philosophically in detail, informing their practices and their culture first hand, including the way they chafe against humans, who are arcanum-less. Many animals in the world are also connected to magic, which influences both their design and which ones get hunted for humans' more 'clever' solution in dark magic, including each other.

The core issue of the Puppetmaster, down to being a coercive magic formed by someone deeply resentful of their imprisonment? Said puppetmaster is the main endgame antagonist of the entire show with all of S4 onwards being exploring the ethics of controlling people against their will in various methods, and the entire show itself being a thematic battleground of fate (imprisonment) vs free will for virtually every single character.

Where ATLA mostly concerns itself timeline wise with ending the war, very little thought is shown by any of the characters as to what they'll do after the war. This isn't a problem (as it reflects the sheer domineering scope of the conflict) but even Zuko being firelord is only ever really addressed with 2.5 episodes left till the finale. TDP, meanwhile, ends its 'war' in s3 and s4 opens up with dealing with the old wounds festering between people with centuries of history, the struggles that come when people aren't able to let go and believe they're safe or mourn in a healthy manner, and the religious/cultural clashes that may occur when trying to integrate different groups of people.

TDP also has an evil father with a devoted daughter and a brother who eventually defects, but it explores the reality of an abusive parent who loves/will sacrifice for you and your right to leave regardless, even if that means leaving the sibling you truly deeply love and who loves you in turn. Which means that when you and your sibling are on opposite sides of a deep ideological conflict, it actually really fucking hurts bc we've seen first hand just how much they love each other and also how and why everything fell apart not in spite of that love necessarily, but also because of it.

Is this to say that TDP is a 1:1 with ATLA or that it's better? No, not at all, and the latter is subjective. I prefer TDP, but I think they're about on equal ground when you look at each show currently as a whole (although TDP has two seasons left to go).

But TDP takes a lot of what ATLA was doing thematically with some of its most interesting beats and then builds or expands upon them further. It talks further and more consistently about the cycles of violence; in many ways, Jack De Sena's character, Callum, begins the series largely where Sokka had ended (and he's not the most like Sokka anyway; very much his own thing); we get Faustian bargains and centuries' long grief and fucked up people who are trying both succeeding and failing at not doing fucked up things. There are antagonists, but it is very hard to actually label anyone at this point a straight up villain. Moral greyness is where the show starts, and it just continues from there.

That's not to say the show is nothing but dark and depressing - like ATLA, there's a steady thread of hope and humour even as the show gets steadily closer and closer to its 11th hour point - but the show is usually emotionally heavier. There's more blood and potentially disturbing imagery with body horror and on screen death. There's so much foreshadowing you basically can't go more than 5 minutes into any episode without having something that's going to come back around or be referenced again like 3-5 seasons later.

Just to be clear - TDP is like ATLA, but it's like ATLA in interesting ways beyond the more shallow surface level that usually gets attributed to it, while still very much being its own show and its own thing. And that is why I tend to recommend it to people who like ATLA.

Thank you and goodnight

(Also, the fandom doesn't have any ship wars, and the show is queer as fuck)

[venussaidso]

Ketu Dominant Themes — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 1) 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

disclaimer: spoilers for all movies or shows mentioned.

the warnings: mentions of drug abuse, sexual violence, self-harm, genocide, mental disorders/illnesses, cannibalism and self amputation.

The most interesting theme within all the Ketu nakshatras is one that is unexpected, as Ketu is commonly associated with concepts of disconnection or isolation from society as a whole — given its frequent link to the 12th house. However, it is more about the interactions with the unseen forces within society than anything else. The 12th house also represents the collective consciousness and all the interconnected energies that come with it, which Ketu becomes deeply influenced by. Ashwini is the most sensitive Ketu nakshatra, as it is easily consumed and absorbed by these 12th house energies, often leading to chaos and loneliness.

Ashwini Nakshatra embodies nothingness, the oldest energy in the universe. It exists in the space before actualized creation and after the rise of awareness that emerges from nothingness (or the cosmic void). It is very fitting that this is the first nakshatra, but it should also be considered the last, as it essentially represents the non-duality of life and death. This theme is further extended in Bharani and beautifully explored in that nakshatra. However, in Ashwini, the focus is on the spirit's evolution. The energy found in this nakshatra is as undeveloped as it is chaotic, which is why evolution needs to take place — and this usually involves extremely harsh forces to tame it. In Ashwini, there is confusion or a lack of self-awareness regarding one's own identity, as energies here become repressed, unconsciously accumulating. I am going to use some films as examples to explore this point.

First, I'll use the most typical Ketu-coded character, Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. This film follows an investment banker who revels in the wealthy excesses of his superficial lifestyle, surrounded by others who do the same. His life is empty, mostly revolving around getting into exclusive restaurants, indulging in designer suits, and maintaining a meticulous morning routine. There is a general pressure to conform, and Ashwini is highly sensitive to these societal energies, which they absorb — driving them to compete and, eventually, to go too far. For Patrick Bateman, it’s no longer about conformity; it becomes an obsession. These pressures push him into homicidal tendencies as an outlet. This film perfectly encapsulates modern-day consumerism, and it is, of course, an Ashwini native who descends into madness as a result of the empty, superficial culture he is subjected to.

Nothing can fill the emptiness inside him, and he knows it. This crippling, painful awareness continuously fuels his violent self-hatred and his hatred toward others. This is why he remains trapped in a cycle of loneliness, surrounded by the same narcissistic, self-absorbed individuals who perpetuate this soulless, superficial culture.

The movie was adapted from the book with the same name, written by Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis whose own experiences inspired the book "American Psycho".

Quote from an interview; OregonLive (2010);

"[Patrick Bateman] did not come out of me sitting down and wanting to write a grand sweeping indictment of yuppie culture. It initiated because my own isolation and alienation at a point in my life. I was living like Patrick Bateman. I was slipping into a consumerist kind of void that was supposed to give me confidence and make me feel good about myself but just made me feel worse and worse and worse about myself. That is where the tension of 'American Psycho' came from... It came from a much more personal place."

-- Mula Moon Bret Easton Ellis

Now, onto the movie "Fight Club", which was directed by Magha Sun David Fincher, and stars Magha Sun Edward Norton and Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

The most highlighted character from this film, played by Brad Pitt, is Tyler Durden, who plans on making a revolution to destroy the hyper-capitalistic, materialistic superficial culture that we saw destroy Patrick Bateman from the inside in "American Psycho".

(video - 🎧)

Of course, just like Ashwini Moon Patrick Bateman took his obsessive consumerism too far; Mula Sun Tyler Durden lays on the opposite spectrum, aiming to destroy modern society by blowing up all credit card companies and ruining the world's economy. Mula is related to destruction as it is ruled by Nirriti, the goddess of destruction. The oppressive forces that weigh on this Mula character, Tyler Durden, causes him into a spiral for freedom (9H), using extremities and acts of terrorism to be rid of ego/society. Whereas Ashwini, having no solid identity and just being undeveloped in nature, is more likely to conform; but so long as Ketu is there, there will always be an emptiness in the ambitious pursuit of things. Ashwini can grant excess wealth and fame, but with no inner fulfillment or balance, you see characters like Patrick Bateman. Or Daniel Plainview from "There Will Be Blood".

A movie directed by Paul Thomas Anderson who has Ketu in Magha, and stars Ashwini Moon, Mula Ascendant Daniel Day Lewis who portrays Daniel Plainview. Plainview is more Ashwini, as he is an extremely ambitious, capitalistic and competitive oilman.

His pursuit for wealth and power leads him to personal loneliness, isolation and emptiness, we see how Ketuvians become so drained by the energies they absorb in the pursuit of things. Similarly to Patrick Bateman, he not only hates others but himself and wishes for no one to succeed in life.

His primal competitiveness and self-loathing even drive away his only family, his only child. His adult son means to do his own oilrig business and cuts his partnership with him. But Plainview's unchecked ambition shows that even after attaining success and power, he literally goes ahead to disown his own son as he considers him competition now. And now he extends the same hatred he has for others to him. Further isolating himself; this validating his deep sense of loneliness that was always there with his self-loathing.

The film ends in an Ashwini fashion; in which Plainview goes into a psychotic meltdown and murders someone who he has had a long stewing hatred for.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

I wanted to provide a brilliant video from the YouTuber "The Vile Eye", who explored the dark nature of this character; because it perfectly illustrates Ashwini nakshatra in a twisted way, especially in how Aries in this segment is influenced by Ketu forces. Everything about this character is every Aries stereotype you can think of from the top of your head, but Ketu exaggerates it to the point of extremity and tragedy.

Amazing video for anyone who wants to understand Ashwini at its extreme which can manifest in real life of course.

The series "Peaky Blinders" stars Ashwini Moon Cillian Murphy whose character faces moral dilemmas, as his relentless pursuit of power contributes to his moral ambiguity.

His ruthless ambition to become the most powerful in the criminal underworld is something I couldn't help but relate it back to Ashwini's drive & competitiveness.

The movie "Scarface" stars Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays Tony Montana. And fun fact, Tony Montana is loosely based and inspired by the real-life figure, Al Capone, who had Ashwini Moon.

Both Tony Montana and Al Capone had unchecked ambitions and an unrelenting desire for power. In Ashwini, extreme power can be attained, and we saw how Tony Montana quickly rose to it (as Ashwini is the Star of Transport and it is associated with Shidhra Vyapani Shakti which translates to 'The Power to Quickly Reach Things'). Similarly, Al Capone was also driven by the desire for power, and he attained it.

Like Daniel Plainview in "There Will Be Blood", Tony Montana starts to experience isolation after all of his achievements. His chaotic behaviour contributes to his alienation, and he starts to feel intensifying loneliness, which seems to be a theme with this nakshatra. And this film also ends in Ashwini fashion; with absolute chaos, the psychotic unraveling of Tony and of course death.

I wanted to also add in the movie "Nightcrawler" which stars Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal who plays a character willing to go to the extreme lengths for success and personal achievement, to the point of exploiting others, unconcerned with ethical boundaries.

He has a distorted view of success and has an unchecked, ruthless ambition which is common in Ketu nakshatras. He is also a socially isolated character, behaving inappropriately as he is disconnected from social norms. In his obsessive & relentless pursuit of success, he is devoid of humanity. Had to mention this film because these themes are not exclusive to Ashwini.

But as I did mention, Mula is more likely to be aware of societal pressures and these natives often feel deeply disturbed by them. In the film "Falling Down", Mula Moon Michael Douglas plays a character who has become disillusioned and is now aware of the pressures and oppression caused by the modern-day life. This movie is literally directed by Magha Sun Joel Schumacher.

He confronts many issues such as homelessness and crime, which are heavily rooted in the greedy, capitalistic system of modern society. But he becomes violent and chaotic himself, going into a descent to madness (from absorbing the energies felt by the collective who also feel the weight of these oppressive forces within society). This movie deals with the consequences of unchecked rage, a theme shared in all Ketu nakshatras.

The film "Taxi Driver", which stars Magha Sun Robert De Niro and is directed by Magha Ascendant Martin Scorsese, depicts a man who suffers from extreme loneliness, alienation from society, and struggles with existential crisis. The film explores social decay; such as social disparities, the disillusionment of our main character to society's ills, crime, poverty etc. He goes into a descent into vigilantism, using violence as a catharsis which is a common thing for these Ketu nakshatras (mainly Magha and Mula as it looks at societal frustrations and the emptiness in life/modern culture).

The character also suffers from a possible case of untreated mental illness, and insomnia — and this seems to be a theme with all Ketu nakshatras in general.

Another film where the main character suffers from extreme insomnia is "The Machinist", starring Ashwini Moon Christian Bale whose character's insomnia and untreated mental illness literally contribute to his isolation and alienation.

And the film "Fight Club", in which Magha Sun Edward Norton plays an insomniac character who has dissociative identity disorder. And his split personality is interestingly played by Mula Sun Brad Pitt.

Then the film "Insomnia", directed by Ketu in Magha Christopher Nolan, starring Ashwini Sun Al Pacino who plays an insomniac detective who faces some mental challenges.

There is a spiritual belief about insomnia that suggests there may be a disturbance in one's spirit; unresolved issues that have been long suppressed may be linked to an imbalance of energy within the body. This imbalance causes restlessness and mental problems. This idea aligns with Ketu and the 12th house, which deal with the unconscious — particularly deep-rooted traumas and the ways in which they affect us and those around us. It isn’t just about traumas; it can also stem from the repression of internal suffering caused by loneliness or external pressures. We see this with Patrick Bateman, whose only outlet is literal murder, or Tyler Durden's "revolutionary" fight club, which causes more destruction around him as planned. Both characters violently act out from these unaddressed, decaying energies within themselves and within society.

The series "Sharp Objects", directed by Magha Moon Jean-Marc Vallé, mostly deals with family traumas, but also shows how those traumas and unresolved energies literally cause death and chaos around them.

Camille Preaker, played by Magha Sun Amy Adams, is deeply traumatized and troubled. She has a history of self-harm and bears many scars on her body; her self-destructive behavior is a coping mechanism for the trauma she experienced in her youth (sexual violence by a group of boys and witnessing the slow, painful, and preventable death of her sister). Then we have her younger half-sister Amma, played by Magha Moon Eliza Scanlen, who has a hidden dark side shaped by the family’s troubled history and generational trauma. By the end of the series, we discover that Amma is the killer responsible for the violent murders that have shocked the townspeople of Wind Gap. Amma is behind all the gruesome deaths of the girls whose teeth were removed.

While Camille’s coping mechanism involves cutting herself as self-punishment for the guilt she harbors from her sister’s death, Amma literally commits homicidal acts. This reflects just how damaged and complex their trauma is, as well as the toxicity of the community they grew up in. Their mother, played by Mula Moon Patricia Clarkson, has Munchausen syndrome and is responsible for the death of her oldest daughter. Camille witnessed her sister’s suffering and death, viewing her mother as a monster — and now sees her little sister as an extension of her mother.

This series is an excellent example of how unchecked personal trauma can impact others, especially those who are uninvolved. It also shows how much destruction can be caused, as seen with Amma killing other girls as an "outlet." This is why I now realize how wrong I was about Ketu. Ketu is not necessarily about isolating from society. In relation to society, Ketu represents the complex, unaddressed, and rotting energies within it, always tying back to individuals’ personal and generational traumas. It makes sense that Magha relates to ancestral roots and the origins of oneself, including the origins of one’s trauma.

Now onto the film "Nocturnal Animals", which is directed by Magha Sun Tom Ford, stars Magha Sun Amy Adams and Mula Sun Jake Gyllenhaal.

Amy Adams plays Susan, a successful art gallery owner. She receives a manuscript for a novel called Nocturnal Animals sent to her by her ex-husband Edward, played by Jake Gyllenhaal. The book is extremely violent and tragic, but it turns out to be a symbolic reflection of their relationship and marriage, tying into Ketu themes of unresolved trauma and getting to the roots of it (a Mula theme). The book forces Susan to confront how much her actions hurt Edward.

The movie focuses on confronting one's past and demonstrates how trauma continues to shape the lives of those involved. It also shows that Susan herself still has unresolved issues, evident in her repulsed reactions to the extreme parts of the novel.

The movies "Split" and "Glass", stars two Ashwini Suns, Anya Taylor Joy and James McAvoy. McAvoy's character, Kevin, has dissociative personality disorder and these different personalities exist to keep him safe. His trauma is so extreme and deeply painful that it manifested into the creation of The Beast, the most dangerous and superhuman personality. Three kidnapped girls are prey to The Beast as they end up being devoured by it but only one survives — and that's Anya Taylor Joy's character Casey.

The reason why she doesn't fall victim is because she, too, has suffered extreme trauma and her resilience through it is what creates an immediate connection with Kevin. It is when The Beast sees her scars that he calls her pure, implying that those who have been damaged are the ones who are truly evolved.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

Also, "Split" is another example of how deeply repressed energies and traumas of one can ruin everything around them and victimize those close to the Ketuvians (usually uninvolved people's lives being violently taken; "Split", "Sharp Objects", "American Psycho", "Falling Down" etc.).

Ashwini Moon Zendaya in the series "Euphoria" plays a character, Rue, who has been through a significant amount of trauma, including the passing of her father. She uses self-destructive ways to cope with her deep emotional pain and grief, very similarly to Magha Sun Amy Adams's character in "Sharp Objects". Rue uses drugs to numb herself from her harsh realities. There is a moment in the series in which she has a chaotic meltdown.

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

Something I now understand with Ashwini is how explosive, volatile and scary its ungrounded energy can be — exactly why I'd commonly associate it with hysterical meltdowns which can lead to accidental or unplanned homicidal acts or other forms of harm/self-harm. This scene of Rue is vaguely taking me back to Ashwini Moon Christian Bale's spiraling and meltdowns in "American Psycho".

(YouTube clip by me - 🎧)

Ketu, especially with Magha, seems to cause erratic behaviours when its natives aren't purified of their long-accumulated baggage in their unconsciousness — exactly why the 8H is also ruled by Ketu as Scorpio shares this particular theme. As long as there is deep disturbance and imbalance in the body, there is no rest for the soul -- even for future incarnations to come.

But now, I want to touch on the senseless harshness of Ketu. Remember, this energy embodies the eternal, sucking void. Mula Nakshatra relates to the center of the cosmic void and delves straight into its roots. Ashwini has already risen from it, while Mula is centering itself back into it. Mula is where we seek an awakening to the truth behind reality. What lies on the other side of the cosmic void?

Truth is sought in Mula, but it seems Ashwini understands that chaos is the absolute truth of reality. There is no inherent meaning to anything, which may sound nihilistic, but it is precisely what makes life beautiful.

In the film The Pianist, written and directed by Magha Sun Roman Polanski and starring Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody, the story begins on a warm note with a well-put-together family and a handsome, talented Ashwini man who dreams of being a pianist. However, things take a drastic turn.

We witness a once bright-eyed man transform into a shell of his former self after enduring harrowing events. The situation continues to deteriorate, growing more and more tragic until there is no longer even a sliver of hope. The majority of the film is filled with despair, senseless cruelty, and the slow annihilation of the protagonist’s soul.

I've never watched a film more Ketuvian than this—surrounded by genocide, death, and complete isolation, consumed by one's own lonely misery. One moment, you think a character might somehow make it out alive because they have the conviction and drive to survive, but the film immediately takes that hope away as they helplessly die. You think the protagonist might finally see some light, and the film even provides brief moments of comfort amidst the harsh realities, but it ultimately shows how everything remains tragic.

There are no answers to any prayers, as suffering is ongoing. This tone creates another layer of entrapment, and you watch as the character resigns himself to letting life do whatever it wants to him, trapped in a world where he is helpless. With Ketu, you come to realize there was never any security or answers to the senseless chaos of this world to begin with.

But his survival at the end makes you question why he even went through all of that. There was no lesson to be learned from such a tragic, horrifying experience. Why did his friends and family die, but not him? In the end, he became the successful pianist he had dreamed of from the beginning. He was exceptionally talented from the start; these events took everything from him except his passion for the piano.

What he went through was senseless, as Ketu has no prime motivation. Saturn will push you through the worst so that you can reach a level where you can attain all of your reaped rewards, but Ketu doesn’t care about what you get in the end—that's Rahu's objective, as Rahu deals with ego. Ketu deals with the evolution of one's soul, and that usually involves its annihilation.

The film "Society of the Snow" is literally directed by Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona, based on real life events. There's a documentary based on these events as well, "Stranded: I've Come from a Plane That Crashed on the Mountains", directed by Magha Moon Gonzalo Arijon.

Now, in Society of the Snow, there is a tone of hopelessness set in the film because of the gruesome reality these characters (based on real-life people) experience. Never in their lifetime did they think that everything would change so drastically from just living the average life of normal teenage boys. These characters, who were part of a rugby team, get on a plane that would soon crash onto a glacier surrounded by endless, cold, harsh mountains — with just a piece of the wrecked plane remaining in which they take shelter. The protagonists are surrounded by the dead bodies of friends who did not survive the crash, and now they must spend the first night in harsh coldness while many are severely injured. They couldn’t even sleep; the first night was spent with many of them crying and wailing out loud, nearly freezing to death.

One day later, a rescue helicopter searches for them, and they all scream out for help. But the helicopter misses them, as they’re barely noticeable under all the glacier that surrounds them. This is when the sense of hopelessness and despair starts to kick in and intensifies as the story progresses. Now that the chances of being rescued have completely fallen to zero, they begin to realize they can’t ignore their growing hunger anymore. They all have no choice but to eat the flesh of the dead bodies, after running out of chocolates, and we see how these decisions mentally challenge some of the characters.

It is truly tragic as they are stranded, isolated from the world, and completely in despair every waking day, for a span of 72 days. After being rescued, we see just how malnourished they were from the looks of their bodies. They come back home bone-skinny and weak. The monologue in the ending scene tells us how the survivors wondered: "Why didn’t we all get to come back [home]?" "What is the meaning of it all?" These are the questions asked when we observe these raw Ketu events.

Ashwini Moon J.A. Bayona also made the film "The Impossible", which is about survival and resilience — based on real life events. Much like "Society of the Snow", it also has a sense of complete despair and there is an involuntary separation of a family (which reminds me of "The Pianist" in which Ashwini Sun Adrien Brody's character is also separated from his family in the story).

"Nothing is more powerful than the human spirit" it writes on the poster.

"Nowhere", is directed by Ashwini Moon Albert Pintó, a survival thriller about a pregnant woman who finds herself isolated from society as she's drifting in the sea trapped inside a container. Because of her newborn baby, she is forced to survive and protect her child even when there is no hope. The reason why she's even in the container is because she was fleeing a society of a dystopian future in which women & children are caged and murdered (Ketu's oppressive forces and her attempt to run away from them leads her to total isolation which is another manifestation of Ketu).

And we also have the film "127 Hours", directed by Ashwini Moon Danny Boyle, starring Ashwini Sun James Franco who plays Aron Ralston whose right arm becomes trapped against the canyon wall when he was on a solo canyoneering trip. When he is unable to release himself, we realize the severity of his situation. He is completely isolated and alone. His own supplies running out and he's losing his mind. The struggle for survival and one's own helplessness is a theme of Ashwini nakshatra as this eventually drives one into taking extreme measures for freedom — as the audience sees him resorting to cutting his own arm off.

These themes seem to speak of the power and resilience of the human spirit, as emphasized in "The Impossible" and "Society of the Snow". Our ability to survive even just our own personal traumas must be a testament to our spirit being an extension of the Higher Power which is behind the happenings of all of these senseless yet significant experiences and events we go through.

It is in Ashwini that one's experience through harsh forces contributes to the spirit's evolution after total annihilation, which leads us on the path towards moksha.

Ketu is very pure by nature, and it wants to destroy impurities. The repression of one's accumulated dirt can manifest in destructive tendencies, this being a misdirected flow of Ketu energies wanting to express the very raw forces we're wired to run away from. By facing one's true inner self and embracing your entirety is how you embrace Ketu in general. But one must go deep and inward. All three Ketu nakshatras deal with getting to the roots for this reason.

Ashwini is ruled by the Ashwini Kumaras, gods of medicine and healing, also known as divine physicians. In order to heal, one must get to the root of all disturbances to create the perfect medicine for healing. As Ashwini is ruled by the 1H, this involves getting to the roots of oneself for self-liberation. Magha, on the other hand, is about tracing your own existence back to the consciousness of others—usually family members and ancestors. Magha relates to generational trauma and shining light on it in order to become freer.

Mula is symbolized by the roots of a tree, and "mula" translates to "roots." It signifies ancestral roots as well, but primarily the truth. Mula is where disillusionment takes place as one gets directly into the roots of everything, going right into the galactic center—which can also signify going right into the roots of our demons and letting all of that rotting energy burn from your body. After this purification process, one's consciousness raises by default.

Ashwini has strong, undeveloped energies that can be tamed and grounded to be properly channeled. In order to achieve this, one must let go of poisonous impurities so that they are no longer controlled or possessed by unseen forces. It is in Ashwini that we expand on the interconnection of the collective consciousness, which was secretly discovered in Uttara Bhadrapada and remembered in Revati. Ashwini nakshatra is extremely sensitive to outward energies, as are the rest of the Ketu nakshatras. Every individual's consciousness is affecting the whole world in some way. This, being a Ketu theme in general, describes the whole energetic field of the world and how we each play a part in it and affect each other's lives.

As all Ketu nakshatras deal with getting into the roots of things, we must get dirty by digging into our own roots, which are connected to the reasons for our layers of repressed emotions such as rage, numbness, resentment, hatred, and grief—emotions commonly harboured by Ketu natives. These unconscious emotions, which form our Shadow Self, contribute to how we interact with the world and other people. There is always the capacity to harm or further traumatize others because of our own unchecked, hidden troubles. Mula also perfectly shows how all of the complex, interconnected traumas of everyone else are intertwining and creating more chaos and confusion in society. The disillusionment with how the oppressive systems of society are breeding more pain and trouble in turn demonstrates, in Ketu fashion, just how trapped everyone is.

[qprpbj]

everything that happens in the outsiders - on the greasers side - is foundationally because of poverty. like literally everything comes back to the fact that these kids come from absolutely nothing and have to fight and steal and scavenge and indulge in recklessness and violence to live. nobody in the story is inherently violent or vicious. conflating being violent because of your surroundings & where you were born with violent aggressive tendencies being something you’re just like born with and can’t help as if it’s in your bones or your blood solely because they’re poor ppl who have to fight to survive is demonizes poverty!!!

also like the outsiders was written by a fifteen year old who wrote the bare bones but frankly glosses over SO much - it’s a kids book to be fair - that realistically would’ve been ever present in these kids lives. realistically, people who grow up in circumstances similar to them are born in environments chock full of addiction, self harm, mental illness, physical illness, suicide, murder, neglect, domestic violence, rape, gangs, organized crime, not having any healthy or safe food to eat, food stamps, welfare, not having water at home, utilities being shut off, dangerous unsafe houses, no houses, people selling their bodies for money, child labour, teen pregnancy, foster care, having little or no proper education, no healthy role models, few/unsafe job opportunities, being taken advantage of for your work, being underpaid, deeply foundational systemic racism, not having accessible trustworthy healthcare, issues with the court, cps, biased legal systems. the list literally goes on forever. these are all interconnected symptoms of poverty! and they are not things that are inherent to anybody’s existence!! people who are born into these severe types of situations are never given a chance to thrive and all of the greasers know this. they don’t get the luxury of indulging in most things the middle or upper class kids do, and even then, the curtis brothers are some of the LUCKY ones. they had two loving stable present parents and food on the table and lights on and extra curriculars!!! they get opportunities even others in their own gang don’t get!!!

all of this is literally WHY darry fought as hard as he did to get out and why he came home the minute he knew he needed to, why he gave up his whole future of breaking cycles to stay stuck in the poor life he grew up in, because he’s inherently nurturing and caring, and he fights both generally and for his brothers because he has to, not because he wants to. dally is proud of his record because he doesn’t have anything else to be proud of bc he’s been a victim of circumstance his whole entire life. johnny knows he’s never gonna be able to fight hard enough to get out of the cycle he was born into. & the greasers being as cavalier as they are about these kind of things happens when people are so desensitized that they don’t notice it occurring around them anymore, and generally the gang sticks to their own and tries not to cause shit with other people. they don’t fight because they want to, they fight out of necessity. even darry. even dally!!!! & i’d be remiss to mention that breaking poverty cycles and intergenerational trauma and abuse when you’re given nothing to work with is truly one of the toughest things someone can do for themselves

tbh idek where i was even going with all this but i just rly want ppl to know that as obvious as it all might sound these are very very real things and not just like book fiction trauma porn plots nor do people wrapped up in systemic issues like these make them inherently bad or inherently violent or inherently aggressive. both these kids and real life people deserve research and care and careful choices of words and observing internal biases and to be talked about, but talked about correctly!!!

[tiredfox64]

Hi Hi! I love you’re writings for Havik, it’s so hard to find any good Havik fics. Could you do Havik with an s/o who’s ex was abusive and they’re use to being bossed around and doing chores for their partner (like cooking, and cleaning for them and waiting for permission to do things)

You Have Freedom

Prior notes: Tbh using Havik is genius ngl. Make me wanna give him a kiss.

Pairing: Havik x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: Mention of abusive/ toxic relationships, mention of violence, angst with happy ending

Relationship after relationship. It’s amazing that you are still standing. Though mentally you may have gained some issues since people in this world can’t act right.

Some partners never got over their ex. Some partners never took care of their own health. Some partners were just sick in the head and liked to mess with you.

It wasn’t you, you just had some bad luck and ran in the arms of the wrong people. You found comfort in the chaos that you were so used to. It wasn’t your choice it’s just how your brain started to be molded into needing. Your heart wanted something better. You deserved better than this. Not being forced to make a man who barely looks at you to cook him a meal or discourage you from wearing the clothes you want. But how does one break out from the cycle without getting hurt? Well, you might need some outside help.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Another crumby date with your sleazebag of a boyfriend. He couldn’t even give you a decent date night. Going to the bar and ignoring you to talk to his buddies while flirting with other people in front of you is not a date. But he will gaslight you and tell you so many things.

“You’re crazy, that never happened.” “You’re so insecure this is why I don’t take you out.” “I was buying you drinks the whole time is that not enough attention for you.”

You don’t even like drinking let alone constantly having Jägerbombs which he took for himself. He just wanted an excuse to get drunk that’s why he called this a “date”. You hate when he’s drunk. He gets more irrational and occasionally violent. He’s currently going off about how you are ruining the vibe by sulking. Now he says the clothes that he approved are too slutty while a priest would beg to differ that you are extremely modest. You’re on the verge of crying when suddenly you both hear footsteps coming your way in the dark night. Only a quarter of the moon is showing which makes it harder to see who is coming. Closer and closer these heavy footsteps come your way until what little natural light could be shined shows a man. A very scary looking man.

He’s hunched over yet he still looks taller than you. You could see his head is not aimed towards your direction but your boyfriend’s. Your boyfriend in his drunken state starts yelling and cussing him out when he has done no wrong. You tried to make him stop but he pushed you off of him, almost making you fall while he begin to yell derogatory terms at you. This seemed to displease the other man who came closer and closer until he was right at your boyfriend’s face. When he stood up straight you saw that he was much bigger than your boyfriend. He was tall and seemingly stronger. The moon light finally showed some of his face when you saw the lower half was mangled. You were frozen, unsure of what to do.

Your boyfriend booked it out of there, not even looking back at you. He was horrified and knew he fucked up. You were left alone with this scary looking man.

“Heh, pathetic. I’ve never seen such a weak man before.” He spoke in a gravely voice.

You just stared without saying a word. He began to walk off and you kept looking at him. He sensed you were still staring and turn back.

“What, too afraid to move? Did I scare you that much?” He might have been teasing you but you’re not sure.

“I’m afraid to walk home alone.”

Well that was a shock. You weren’t scared of him but you were scared of being alone. He won’t lie that seemed kinda cute. Your prick of a boyfriend did leave you behind so he felt like you deserved to at least get home safety. He walked back to you, staring down at you with that mangled face, before gesturing you to follow him. You did so without hesitation.

The ball started to roll without you knowing. This was the start of something good. The start of something with a Seidan who calls himself Havik.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Letting Havik into your home after he walked you back was the best decision you’ve made in a while. Though at first you were scared by his scars and his violent attire that didn’t change the fact he was calm with you. That calmness never went away.

Yes, he isn’t the most stable person around. You’ve seen him rip his own arm off to smack someone but that person he was smacking was your ex so it’s okay.

He never told you to stop crying. Even on the walk home you bursted out crying from that whole night. Havik didn’t immediately comfort you but when you were almost done crying he lightly wiped your tears away with his clawed hand. The metal that grazed your face was slightly confronted. And then he proceeded to lick the tears off his hands but let’s just overlook that.

You have felt safe with him around. He’s like a scary guard dog that you see as a protective softie. But in the back of your mind you worried that he would turn on you just like all your other exes. It’s starts with caring about you, than they slowly start to get aggravated and aggressive, then the love bombing starts, and a new vicious cycle starts.

This time is different, I promise.

You first tested him when your friends invited you out. A new club opened and you are still young you just had to go. They thought you were single now so they said you could dress however you wanted. But your concern was if Havik would be okay with it.

When you walked up to him he was sharpening the blade he usually had on his left arm. You swallowed hard as you hoped this wouldn’t turn nasty. You had the clothes you wanted to wear in your hands.

“Havik, my friends asked me if I could go out with them tonight. Am I allowed to go.” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to be yelled at.

“You don’t have to ask me. It’s up to you. Do you want to go?” He responded so quickly you wondered if he took in what you said.

“Yes, I want to go. And I want to wear this,” you showed him the outfit, “Am I allowed to wear this?”

“Wear what you are comfortable with. If you want to go out with your chest out go ahead, you should be allowed to do that without anyone holding you back.” He grumbled not because of you but that the fact that if you did go out with your chest out you would be shamed.

This wasn’t the usual response for you. Usually it’s a no, why do you need to go out, are you gonna hook up with other guys, stupid incriminating things like that. It’s not that Havik doesn’t care, it’s more like he doesn’t care what you want to do just as long as you are sure you want to do so.

“Did you need me to cook you something before leaving? Does something need to be cleaned?” You were sounding all panicky as if you were being tricked. Like there was a catch and you had to do certain things before you were allowed to leave.

Havik stopped what he was doing and looked at you. For a second you thought you messed up by asking too many things and you ended up annoying him. He got up from where he was sitting and slowly made his way towards you. You flinched but didn’t run since that usually got you into more trouble before. Once he was right in front of you his hand went up and started petting you at the top of your head. You were calm again. This man in front of you is not like the others in your past.

“Were you looking for an excuse not to go out or are you worried something bad will happen when coming home?” He asked.

“No I just…was making sure,” you seemed almost out of it, “I’m gonna get ready now.”

You walked off and did as you said. You got ready and let your friends know that you would be going out. They were more than happy to hear that news. You checked with Havik one more time if it was alright but just one look at him told you it was alright. Actually wait! He has something to say. He came up to you quickly and you thought this was the moment. Nope, he just ripped his arm off and tried to hand it to you.

“Carry this with you if anyone decides to bother you.” He advised.

“I can’t carry a severed arm around! Are you crazy?!”

Uh duh, he is a little coo coo in the head.

“It’s fine. You can just smack them with it and they’ll be out. You should try it, it’s liberating.” He’s still trying to make you take his arm.

“Havik, no, stop. I’ll go to jail.”

“I will break you out. It is your right to beat someone up if they are bothering you.”

He’s not getting it but the gesture is nice. No Havik, they won’t take the knife either. Clubs don’t allow that.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

This was a big change for you and it was a good change. Your friends saw how happier you were now. They thought it was the single life. No, it was because you started to see that you were finally in a healthy spot in life. You are with a man who lets you know that you have a choice.

The night ended and your friends brought you back home. The house was quiet. When you went all the way up to your bedroom you saw Havik seemingly sleeping in your bed. And of course he was taking up the whole bed.

You started to undress and put on your sleep wear before you heard him speak in a sleepy voice.

“Did you enjoy yourself? Did anyone bother you?” He asked.

“I enjoyed myself and no, no one bothered me luckily.” The tone in your voice portrayed how happy you were which was a nice change.

“I can’t go hunting for someone?” He asked

“You can’t go hunting for someone, no.” You replied

Havik is glad no one bothered you but he did want an excuse to go after someone. Oh well, he’ll just pick at random again.

You slipped into bed with the little space you had on your side. As you were about to ask Havik if he was fine with cuddling you he was already on it. He dragged you in, nuzzling his face against yours as an act of affection. He would give you a kiss but…ya know. But you can still give him a kiss!

You kissed him all over, even the exposed flesh since you didn’t fear it anymore. You were happy to have him in your life now. A man that many would fear but you see as the sweetest guy you have ever dated. Knowing how long it took for you to get this lucky made you cry. It was hard to tell if it was from joy or the fact that it took time before you gained something good. He licked your tears away before he rested his head on top of yours. He squeezed you tight to him, almost giving off a sort of comfort that a weighted blanket would give.

“One day, I will give you a world where you are free to do whatever you want. No one will tell you what to do or what you need to do. You will be free. I’ll set everyone who has been controlled free. If I can’t free everyone, at least I can free you.”

He knew exactly what to say to you. He knows what you’ve been through. Never again. As long as he lives and thrives he won’t let that happen. He opposes control. There is only freedom and love with that freedom. Do what you want, wear what you want, cook what you want, eat what you want, do you boo boo. He will support you. And you will support him with whatever he wants to do.

There is no insecurities, denials, cheating, lies, and manipulation. There is only freedom and love between you and Havik.

Now rest, you’ve had a long eventful day. Your new beginning has started and you are excited to see what will come of this.

Though I advise you keep a towel near your bed. Havik drools in his sleep. Like a lot. Don’t be surprised when you wake up with wet hair, that was him. Sorry, I don’t make the mangled man’s rules.

After notes: Truly I hope no one ever goes through shit like this. It’s not even something like a you should have this experience once type of thing. I hope none of y’all experience what I’ve experienced in past relationships cause it is no joke. But I hope something like this can bring others comfort. Adiós!

[pretty-weird-ideas]

I really love, and by that I mean virulently hate, the way that “both Lestat and Armand suck” are used in a way in so that nobody can talk about how and why they suck. It is all just an inane diversion tactic to keep actual analysis of abuse and trauma out of the show/book series about abuse and trauma. Its also just a diversion so that people can harp on and nitpick the black victims of theirs. Like its appeasement so that you don't have to actually look the themes of domestic violence in the eye rather than exploring it.

“OKAY GAH FINE IWTV IS ABOUT DV! Anyways, here is 40 pages of analysis on dear god anything else” like I hope both sides of your pillow is warm if you post up on actual analysis of character dynamics with some “everyone is an immoral monster!”. Like idk fam, I think you are missing the point. In fact I would say the show actively tries to contradict that Louis’ view of vampiric nature as inherently a doomed codependent existence is one that is forced upon him rather than what he has to accept. The culmination of the finales was explicitly about him realizing that he shouldn't take this life for himself. Like its explicitly about Louis realizing that “it ends here”.

Like “she can dream” is such a powerful moment because after seeing his vampirism in the light of an inherently violent, soulless, hateful existence he is trying to see more.

To try and tie Louis back down into “all vampires are domestic abusers and that's just how it is so lets ignore it” is kinda like… almost contradictory to the point. But its also just disrespectful to everyone arcs in this narrative. Louis is desperately trying to break that mold and that cycle and find ANYTHING ELSE. When other worse vampires show up (Ses: Marius) the narrative goal isn't to turn Louis’ emotions into a funhouse mirror. Its to add nuance to why the characters might feel as if that inner darkness and violence is inescapable even though we as the audience know it is. We as outside observers know that the characters have full autonomy even when the characters lament that they feel as if they do not. That is the inherent horror of it all. They don't HAVE to do these things to each other at all, and yet they still DO.

Anyways I have a 9am lecture. I have to actually sleep.

[youremyheaven]

Ashlesha & Toxic Relationships

Tw: abuse, incest, rape, death, domestic violence

I feel like Ashlesha's mommy issues have been covered by others before but I really wanted to explore how Ashlesha nakshatra natives often find themselves in toxic relationships, be it in their own homes or in romantic relationships. I think many of the patterns many people repeat in adult relationships has its roots in their childhood relationships with their family and I see this very evident with many Ashlesha natives. They're often abused at home and later suffer abuse at the hands of partners.

Halle Berry Ashlesha Sun

Halle's father was a violent man who abused her mother repeatedly. He abandoned them when she was 4 and she's been estranged from him since.

She moved with her mother and sister to an all-white neighbourhood where she was exposed to racial discrimination while attending school. Halle admits that these struggles motivated her to succeed. Later in the ’90s, when she moved to New York to pursue her acting career, she was forced to stay in a homeless shelter for a while because she couldn’t afford accommodations.

In 2011, Halle said: "It was only when I was in an abusive relationship and blood squirted on the ceiling of my apartment and I lost 80% of my hearing in my ear that I realised, I have to break the cycle."

Halle is divorced from Gabriel Aubry (in photo with her above) who, she accused of being a racist (he used racial slurs towards her and their daughter), refused to acknowledge their daughter as biracial and court documents revealed that Berry accused him of having been in an incestuous relationship with a family member, abusing their daughter and even revealed the couple only had sex three times a year, with Aubry struggling with the effects of his incestuous relationship.

Charlize Theron- Ashlesha Sun, Moon & Mercury

One night, when her verbally abusive alcoholic father came home with his brother after drinking heavily, he threatened her mother with a gun. He began shooting and Theron's mother grabbed her gun and shot back, killing Theron's father and wounding his brother. Police later determined it was self-defence. They later moved to America so Charlize could pursue an acting career.

Lily Collins, Ashlesha Moon

Lily Collins says she was once in a toxic relationship where she faced "verbal and emotional abuse" that made her feel "very small." Looking back, Lily says her then-boyfriend silenced her feelings and even fuelled emotions of "panic" and "anxiety" -- and it's something that still affects her even though she’s now in a healthy relationship.

"He would call me 'Little Lily'…and he'd use awful words about me in terms of what I was wearing and would call me a whore and all these things," she said on the "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast. "There were awful words and then there were belittling words. I became quite silent and comfortable in silence and feeling like I had to make myself small to feel super safe."

Tina Turner, Ashlesha Rising

Tina’s violent marriage with Ike Turner is well known, largely thanks to the film based on her life, What’s Love Got To Do With It. In the film the singer suffered severe beatings, was raped and had cigarettes stubbed out on her body. Her husband Ike is portrayed as a violent, controlling sociopath, and when Tina’s autobiography was published Ike actually admitted that the book was largely accurate. The pair were married for 16 years before Tina had the courage to leave. Ike is now dead.

I found something she said in an interview to closely correlate to Ashlesha:

"Part of my spiritual practice is to “change poison into medicine,” to take negative situations or roadblocks and transform or remove them through positivity. The force of my positivity pushed all the discriminatory “isms” standing in my way right out the window."

Whitney Houston- Ashlesha Sun & Venus

Their turbulent relationship is well documented, but even though the rumors were that Bobby used to hit Whitney, she actually claimed it was the other way round. In an interview with the Associated Press over 10 years ago, the singing star said: “Contrary to belief, I do the hitting, he doesn’t. He has never put his hands on me. We are crazy for one another. I mean crazy in love, love, love, love, love. When we’re fighting, it’s like that’s love for us. We’re fighting for our love.” Brown, however, was later arrested in 2003 for misdemeanour battery, several years after Whitney said this. The pair eventually divorced after 15 years of marriage in 2007.

Unfortunately, Whitney passed away in 2012 and I firmly believe Bobby did it. Her daughter, Bobbi Brown also passed away in the exact same way in 2015 and there's just no way those 2 deaths were a coincidence. Anytime I hear news of anybody dying in their bathtub after overdosing on a cocktail of drugs, I just know they were murdered. Its very easy to write off deaths as suicide or to make it look like one. Its all the more convincing if the person has a history of drug abuse.

Sridevi, Ashlesha Sun & Rising

Sridevi was forced into acting by her mother (who aspired to be an actress and had failed in her pursuit) when she was 2-3yrs old. Sridevi never received formal education and appeared in 200 films by the time she was 25 years old (she did 300 films total). Her mother and stepfather had another daughter whom they favoured. Sridevi was the cash cow of the household. It was once reported that Sridevi would come home from a long day of filming and spend many hours massaging her mother's feet at night instead of sleeping. Her mother once locked up Sridevi in a dark room and starved her as a 5-year-old because she was too scared to do a scene that involved fire. She became a heroine at the age of 11 years and was paired opposite men who had played her grandad onscreen when she was a child star🤮🤮🤮she was sexually assaulted by many of these men as a child and teenager. Sridevi's mother managed all her finances and did not permit her to go out or meet others and she did not even know how to do virtually anything by herself as her mother kept her under lock and key.

Her husband Boney Kapoor is a movie producer who was married to another woman and had 2 kids when he first met Sridevi. He creepily wooed her for 10 years but Sridevi paid him no mind. In 1995, Sridevi's mother passed away and Boney took full advantage of her vulnerability because even though she was 32, she was basically a child due to the way her mother forced her to live. Sridevi had no one to rely on (her stepfather had died many years prior and her sister sued her for properties and since she was so isolated, she had no friends despite being such a huge star) and Boney took her in. She lived with Boney and his wife and kids but before you knew it, Sridevi was impregnated by him and he soon divorced his wife and married her. In 2018, Sridevi was found dead in a bathtub in Dubai under suspicious circumstances. The case was wrapped up pretty quickly and no one really knows what happened. She allegedly "drowned" but like I said, I dont think all these celebs drowning in their bathtubs is a coincidence.

Zsa Zsa Gabor- Ashlesha Moon

She was married 9 times and many of those marriages were hella toxic. She was married to Conrad Hilton (Paris Hilton's great-grandfather)

She said of the marriage:

"Conrad's decision to change my name from Zsa Zsa to Georgia symbolized everything my marriage to him would eventually become. My Hungarian roots were to be ripped out and my background ignored. ... I soon discovered that my marriage to Conrad meant the end of my freedom. My own needs were completely ignored: I belonged to Conrad."

Gabor's only child, daughter Constance Francesca Hilton, was born in 1947. According to Gabor's 1991 autobiography, One Lifetime Is Not Enough, her pregnancy resulted from rape by then-husband Conrad Hilton.

Marilyn Monroe- Ashlesha Rising

Marilyn had a very difficult life. She grew up in foster homes, her mother was schizophrenic and her father was an alcoholic. Her marriages were unhappy and she was treated like shit by the industry. I don't want to elaborate too much because I feel like everyone already knows about her life story but its truly tragic how things were for her :((

Lucille Ball- Ashlesha Sun

She was married to her onscreen husband Desi Arnaz and they had a horrible toxic marriage where he cheated on her repeatedly and emotionally abused her. He was also an alcoholic.

Bella Hadid, Mars in Ashlesha atmakaraka

"I constantly went back to men -- and also, women -- that had abused me, and that's where the people-pleasing came in," Hadid said on the Victoria's Secret podcast, "VS Voices."  "I started to not have boundaries, not only sexually, physically, emotionally, but then it went into my workspace….I began to be a people-pleaser with my job and it was everyone else's opinion of me that mattered except for my own, because I essentially was putting my worth into the hands of everyone else and that was the detriment of it."

Everybody already knows that Yolanda is toxic as hell, made Bella get a nose job at 14yrs of age and in Bella's own words she was made to feel like the "uglier sister".

Viola Davis, Ashlesha Sun

She and her sisters were sexually abused by their brother. "Sexual abuse back in the day didn't have a name. The abusers were called 'dirty old men' and the abused were called 'fast' or 'heifers,'" she wrote in her memoir.

Davis wrote about the volatile relationship between her empathetic mother and her violent, alcoholic father. With brutal candidness, she channels the unrelenting terror of living in a household of domestic abuse: “There are not enough pages to mention the fights, the constantly being awakened in the middle of the night or coming home after school to my dad’s rages and praying he wouldn’t lose so much control that he would kill my mom.”

Lil Kim, Ashlesha Moon

When she sat down for a candid interview with Newsweek back in 2000, the rapper revealed that she developed a complex about her appearance thanks to a string of unsavory suitors. "All my life men have told me I wasn't pretty enough — even the men I was dating," she revealed. "I'd be like, 'Well, why are you with me, then? I have low self-esteem and I always have," she admitted. "Guys always cheated on me with women who were European-looking. You know, the long-hair type. Really beautiful women. That left me thinking, 'How can I compete with that?' Being a regular black girl wasn't good enough."

It wasn't just the men she dated in her early days that messed with Lil Kim's head — according to the rapper, her own father added to her issues. Her parents divorced when she was 8 and, despite the fact that she wanted to remain with her mother, her dad won custody. When she spoke to Newsweek ahead of the release of her second studio album, The Notorious K.I.M, she revealed that her father would regularly make her feel as though she wasn't good enough. "It was like I could do nothing right," she recalled. "Everything about me was wrong — my hair, my clothes, just me."

Ella Fitzgerald, Ashlesha Rising

At a young 15 years old, Fitzgerald was left motherless and fatherless. To make matters worse, she began being abused by her stepfather. The beatings were physical, but they scared her emotionally as well. She was a beaten and battered child. Her grades fell to be nearly unrecoverable, and she began skipping school regularly. It was an era of racial segregation and Ella is also believed to have been physically abused by her teachers along with some other black students.

Ella and Marilyn were good friends and are said to have bonded over their similarly traumatic lives.

Katie Holmes, Ashlesha Moon & Rising

She escaped an abusive marriage with the sociopathic Tom Cruise and his cult??? need I say more?? I am so happy she is alive and well and that she has managed to protect her daughter as well. Scientologists are insane people who absolutely destroy the lives of anybody who tries to leave their system so its a miracle that Katie is alive and doing well.

Glenn Close, Ashlesha Rising

I don't know what it is about Ashleshas and being trapped/escaping a cult but I've noticed several Ashlesha natives all have this experience

Oscar-nominated actress Glenn Close, for example, was part of a cult called the Moral Re-Armament, from the young age of 7 all the way up to 22. “If you talk to anybody who was in a group that basically dictates how you’re supposed to live and what you’re supposed to say and how you’re supposed to feel, from the time you’re 7 till the time you’re 22, it has a profound impact on you,” she once told The Hollywood Reporter.

Patricia Arquette- Ashlesha Moon

Oscar winner Patricia Arquette wasn’t just raised in Virginia’s Skymont Subud cult, but her parents were the founders of it. The so-called “spiritual movement” was known for not allowing access to bathrooms, electricity, or running water in the name of “inner guidance.” 

While still living with her family, she and her family left the commune to return to a more conventional life. Per ABC, however, the Arquette family wasn’t any better at that time either. “There was a lot of drama in the house,” Arquette said in an interview with Oprah Winfrey. “There were a lot of chairs flying around.”

Brie Larson- Ketu in Ashlesha

Brie starred in two movies, The Glass Castle & The Room that both deal with abusive relationships (she is the one stuck in them)

Our Ketu placement is where we draw our creativity from, so its interesting that Brie has played so many characters who have to deal with toxicity.

According to Hindu mythology, Ashlesha nakshatra is associated with the story of the Naga King Vasuki. It is said that Vasuki and his wife were cursed by a sage to become snakes. In order to lift the curse, they sought the help of Lord Vishnu, who advised them to perform a penance in the ashram of a sage named Jaratkaru. After performing the penance, the sage granted their wish and they were able to regain their human form. Since then, Ashlesha nakshatra has been associated with transformation and the power of penance.

In the list of celebrities I have mentioned, many of them survived their abuse and went on to live good lives but many others met with tragic ends. Being "cursed" is part of Ashlesha's mythology, which is why they receive an unfair share of bad experiences and abuse but to perform penance is very very important and something not many are going to be able to do. When so many terrible things happen to you, you're bound to think "why me? I'm a good person, I don't deserve this" and that's absolutely true, no one deserves abuse but the ones who can outlive these negative circumstances are the ones who can in Tina Turner's words "turn poison into medicine". Penance literally means inflicting punishment upon oneself but what it actually means in this context is to turn all your negative experiences that feel like you're being punished into something you can rise up above against. Poison is also part of Ashlesha's lore and while this does make Ashlesha natives rather malicious and manipulative towards others, they need to be able to use this poison as medicine to heal themselves. Otherwise, they end up succumbing to it.

[eternal-love]

FAMILY TREE

‘Give myself up to him in offering. Let him make a woman out of me.”

Feyd Rautha x Arya Atreides!OC

Summary: After Lady Jessica betrayed the Bene Gesserit by giving Duke Leto a son, she tried to make amends with the sisterhood by giving them a daughter— Arya. Turns out the sisterhood wasn’t so forgiving afterwards. Still, they went along with the marriage between an Atreides and the Baron’s youngest nephew, Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. Supposedly they would produce the Kwisatz Haderach. But, one can never find family blood and family cycles.

Author’s note: Listen. I haven’t read the books and I’m not too familiar in writing Feyd. Also, I have yet to discover how some things are called in Giedi Prime or Caladan. So pardon me about it.

TW: Incest (They’re literal cousins, but they don’t know), dub-con, abuse, Stockholm syndrome, violence. The time line is a bit messy since I want all characters to be older.

The minute Arya Atreides was born, her destiny and history was set in stone. Differently than her older brother, Paul Atreides, whom was born out of the love and passion between their parents, Arya knew she was born out of duty. She was raised to be the wife of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the Baron’s youngest nephew. He seemed better. At least better than Rabban, most commonly nicknamed ‘The Beast’.

At the age of fourteen, Arya left Caladan, with her heart broken and sad brown eyes. She traded the fresh and green Caladan for a polluted and gray Giedi Prime.

The wedding was nice in all its aspects, the Harkonnen were drowning in riches, but the atmosphere was black and white thanks to the black sun. Even there, she felt as an outsider still. Wearing a loose intricate black and white gown, with a huge headpiece in her hair. None of her family came. Not even for the dinner for the newlyweds.

What she didn’t know was how sadistic Feyd could be. She have had talks with her mother, Lady Jessica, about pleasing men, about how to make them feel desired but Feyd, he was different. You couldn’t tame him. No, it was impossible.

It didn’t take long before Arya got pregnant and had Feyd’s only child— a son. They were supposed to make the Kwisatz Haderach but Feyd did not want to listen to those damn witches, he wanted a son he could train to be just like him. History repeated itself.

Six years later, it was the coming-of-age ceremony of the Na-Baron, Feyd Rautha. Everyone in Giedi Prime was excited that their very own dear Na-Baron was turning of age. And which better way to celebrate than to have a fight in the Gladiator Arena?

Her servants helped her get ready. Over the years, Arya taught them how to do hair, since no one in Giedi Prime had hair but her. At first, Feyd wanted to force her to shave it off but once he ran his hands through that luscious auburn hair— he immediately got her another circle of servants just to care for her hair.

“Damn it.” Arya groaned as the servant pulled her hair. “Don’t you know how to brush hair?”

Arya stayed quiet, holding back a laugh— she forgot that she was the only woman with hair. The servant took a step back after another one shoved her, they continued doing the hairdo.

After a few minutes, the room door opened. It was the son of Feyd and Arya, Rabban. A sweet boy, long white hair, very pale, blue eyes.

“My dearest love.” Arya sensed her boy, but as she turned around, she saw her boy— beaten up and sad. She hurried to hold his face. “What has happened?”

“Father wasn’t there in my training. My trainer laughed, everyone did…” Rabban looked away, feeling ashamed. His father had raised him to be great! Not this weak and pathetic thing.

“You will be as good as your father one day, perhaps even better.” Arya spoke lovingly. Caressing her little boy’s face.

She may have not looked like him, but she loved this boy as if he was herself reincarnated. She pulled him in for a hug. Something rare in Giedi Prime.

“Go get dressed. We’ll have to be in the arena in a moment.” Arya said softly, her lips pressing together as she ran her hand through Rabban’s white hair.

Rabban listened and exited his mother’s bedchamber. Arya turned around and gave the servants a glaring look as they were staring at her like idiots, not doing their job of dressing her. The servants quickly rushed to her and started to undress her.

The next hour, they were already in the balconies of the Gladiator Arena. Arya was wearing an intricate dark green gown, with decorative chains by her collarbones and a hairpiece with a veil. She and Rabban were sat besides the Baron, sitting straight on her chair, her hands on her lap and a stern face, she used the small binoculars— there they were, Bene Gesserit. She could recognize their veils everywhere.

When Feyd entered, the arena roared. As if everyone in Giedi Prime was blood-thirsty. Arya was disconnected from it, but she had already grown used to it anyways. But her ears perked once she heard that the men he would fight— would be the last remaining of the Atreides. Her house.

She didn’t remember the last time she saw her family. The last thing she heard of them was that the Baron murdered her father. That they basically slaughtered House Atreides. That was her home once, but not now. The Baron looked at her with a smirk and she swallowed, her face still stern, her lips moving a little.

The fight was a blood fest, but she wasn’t thirsty for it. She just wanted her husband to know that she was here, that this time she didn’t hide in her chamber with Rabban. After the victorious battle, the celebrations for Feyd started— this time. He was not present during the feast of indulgence.

Arya knew this tactic. She knew so. So she left the feast and went through the castle’s corridors. She was quick enough to find the Bene Gesserit— Lady Margot Fenring.

“I know your plans, good sister.” Arya was quick to catch up to Lady Margot.

“Then you must know why of those plans. Na-Baroness.” Lady Margot stopped, calm as ever.

“My husband is content with our son. We do not wish to follow the crafted plan of you witche—“

“And that’s exactly why I am here, Arya. You’ve been useless to the sisterhood. You’ve brought nothing but anguish. And now you seem to not follow what we’ve been crafting for centuries.” Lady Margot turned around, facing Arya.

“I’ve done my duty here. I married Feyd, I bore him a child.” Arya spoke firmly.

“A son. A waste of time, a waste of cells. A useless child. We need a girl.” Lady Margot spoke coldly.

“My Rabban is the only child we’ll have. I do not wish to be a puppet in the sisterhood’s plans.” Arya said firmly as she held her head up high.

“You are not a Bene Gesserit. Look at you, not knowing how to use your powers. Powers you inherited from the greatest— our Reverend mother. And yet here you are. Weak.”

Arya rushed to find Feyd afterwards, she wouldn’t let this witch find him first and when she found him wandering around too, she took a deep breath and approached him.

“My darling…” Feyd called Arya.

“You are not in your feast. I worry for you, my love.” Arya spoke softly, reaching for her husband’s arm.

“I do not wish to be part of a spectacle. Not today, at least.”

“The spectacle was the one you out at the gladiator arena.”

“Watch how you talk to me, woman.” Feyd clenched his fist.

Arya scoffed, rolling her eyes before walking closer to him. “That fight it was a insult to me, to my house, to your son, to my blood—”

“Traitor blood, you say— my darling.” Feyd looked at Arya with his ever-menacing look in his eyes.

“Our son would’ve desired respect be shown to his blood.” Arya said, looking up at Feyd. He only smirked.

“Our son or you— Arya Atreides.”

Arya stared at Feyd, tears pricking her eyes. Feyd would often try to mock/insult her by calling her by her birth name. Atreides were considered traitors, disgusting, a dishonorable house— tow which it was slaughtered. But Arya, she would never be able to escape her very own blood.

“You out of all people, should not forget who you are. An outsider among us natives, my darling. It’s because of me that you have a place here. It’s because of me that you weren’t slaughtered too.” Feyd caressed Arya’s cheek, roughly yet gently.

That night, Feyd took Arya, one, two, three, four, five times before he actually grew exhausted. Arya stared at the ceiling. What if she were in Paul’s shoes? She would’ve end up dead but she would have been happy with her parents, not stuck in some foreign planet.

‘But this would all be worth if’ she thought to herself. She would find something for this to be worth it. For all these sacrifices to we worth something.

Perhaps killing the Baron would make it all worth it, if anything— she despised that fat man more than anything. The Baron was very jealous of her, because she took all of Feyd’s precious attention, because she was now Feyd’s motivation, because every kill, every execution, every battle— everything was for her. Not for him no more.

There is a reason why Feyd and Arya talked in whispers when they got near one of the Baron’s slaves.

A slave would say anything he heard if it meant getting their lives spared for one more day.

But Feyd had one goal in mind: be a Baron. He wasn’t a dirty Atreides or a weak Corrino, he was a Harkonnen— he was going to act the Harkonnen way.

Author’s note: This is kinda like an introduction, I hope to update frequently but because I’m in Uni, I’ll probably take long periods. Thank you for reading and I REALLY Appreciate comments! Love y’all!

[delicatenerdbluebird]

My Random Takes on The Secret History (contains spoilers)

The biggest tragedy that comes with being Richard Papen coded is you need a group like Julian's Greek class to feel normal about yourself because the rest of the world makes you feel like a misfit.

That Richard and Camilla scene where she reveals being physically abused by Charles... I feel that scene is a strong criticism of abusive households. Like Richard was used to seeing his mother getting beaten by his father and sometimes he was also a victim of his violence. And in 'that' scene, he fantasizes about doing the same to Camilla and worse. This shows it's a never-ending cycle no matter how you see it. The kids are gonna end up developing fucked up fantasies if their exposure to fucked up things is constant.

I strongly believe Henry was gonna make Richard the scapegoat had something gone sideways. And honestly, it makes perfect sense. Richard insisted on joining their class. He was an outsider. Henry could have easily made up something like Richard was envious of their group, he was jealous of his and Bunny's closeness and so he ended up killing him, something along those lines that Richard wanted to be accepted and we would not accept him instantly, naturally because of our prior history. Knowing how Henry was good with words, he could have made Richard an obsessive, disturbed freak to the FBI for all we know. Remember how Henry saved him from getting frozen to death? This incident can be perfectly used to portray him as a mentally disturbed person who would rather freeze to death than go back to his home to a normal eye.

Now Julian. Oh, Julian I knew was the red flag the moment it was mentioned he does not accept students who have different ideas than his. But to think that fucker would turn out to be the biggest crankiest bitch?!! I mean I am soo mad he was the one who fed those Dionysiac ideas to them and in the end, he just ran away?! I was baffled by how he treated Henry during that confession scene he did not even listen to him completely... Henry does not stutter HE WAS STUTTERING and Julian shoved the letter back to him... I mean the disrespect! This scene (for me at least) was a reality check that no matter how loving, cool, caring, and impactful you might think your teacher is, at the end of the day, they are gonna be a teacher and you are gonna be just a student. It destroyed my heart when Henry said he loved Julian more than his own father 😭 The worst thing you can do is take advantage of the vulnerabilities of someone who not only respects you but also loves you dearly. This mf can move mountains and I would still hate his old rat ass!

Charles and Camilla Idek what to make of them. Charles turned from a pitiable character to an entirely disgusting one for me. I accept Francis' theory that he wouldn't have made that much fuss about his interrogating situation if Camilla and Henry weren't a thing. Remember when Camilla and Henry had some secret code and he got mad why he didn't know about it? I do think camilla and henry were always a thing before it became apparent to everyone. Besides the book is from Richard's perspective, and he does seem oblivious at times.

I am not aware of the popular takes in the fandom so I don't know if this is gonna be a hot take or not but Camilla gave pick-me-girl vibes. She did not have any girl friends and looked down upon Judy (I am not asking them to be besties exactly but a little respect won't have killed) Judy only developed a weird impression about them during that party scene when Camilla dropped her drink onto her and did not apologize (or was it the opposite? i dont remember exactly but the point is Judy is not the type to judge others for no reason...she judged them after that party) Camilla's attitude could be attributed to the fact that Charles was controlling but idk

The Secret History reminded me of The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot (some of the verses below):

We are the hollow men

    We are the stuffed men

    Leaning together

    Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!

    Our dried voices, when

    We whisper together

    Are quiet and meaningless

    As wind in dry grass

    Or rats' feet over broken glass

    In our dry cellar

   

    Shape without form, shade without colour,

    Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

So basically I am yapping here because my friend hasn't finished tsh yet and I just needed to let it all out 😩

Not to mention I absolutely love my expensive gossip boy Francis 🥺 ☕

(Thank u for reading it this far!!)

[marvelstoriesepic]

Breaking Chains (2)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x reader

Series Summary: Leaving behind an abusive and possessive boyfriend, and finding refuge in the hometown you once yearned to escape, certainly wasn’t a chapter you anticipated in your life’s story. Yet, eyes as blue as the sky at dusk, belonging to a mysterious biker drew you into a world of unexpected possibilities, where a job at his bar becomes more than just a means of survival - it’s a pathway to freedom and self-discovery. Though, breaking away from your past proves daunting when shackled by invisible chains.

Chapter word count: 6.3k

Warnings: flashback to toxic relationship, abuse and possessiveness; vomiting; toxic parents; nightmare; self-preservation; anxiety

Author’s note: Here’s the second part. Let me know if you want to be tagged on the next one. Thank you for the support!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“Michael!”

“Michael, stop!”

You chased after your boyfriend, steps pounding over the wooden floorboards of your apartment that felt little like home since you shared it with him.

Your heart was hammering against your chest, lead filled your stomach and your cheek was still stinging from a few moments earlier when his palm had met your face in a swift motion.

The sound of the mixer lid opening reverberated through the apartment and panic surged within you as you quickened your pace.

You rounded the corner into the kitchen where he stood beside the kitchen counter, the mixer sitting innocently next to the microwave. Michael held your phone precariously over the open mixer, his other hand poised to turn it on. Tension crackled in the air, though that was a known occurrence by now. As was the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Another call lit up the screen of your phone - your coworker who had tried to check in with you a few times this week, since you haven’t shown up at work for a while now, Michael not letting you leave the house. However, the many messages and unanswered calls in the last minutes reached the peak of his rage, and his patience - there wasn’t much to begin with - wearing thin.

“You’re not going back there again, do you understand that?”

The deadly calm of his threat weighed heavily on you, bearing you down, suffocating you.

“Michael-”

“Do you understand?” He roared, his whole body shaking with rage.

“Yes. So leave it be. Put it down Michael, you don’t need to do this!”

You walked towards him, eyes wide and arms out in front of you. Trembling hands reached out to grab your phone, pulling it out of his white-knuckled grasp. Before you could retreat, his grip wrapped around your arms instead, his touch like a vice. His hard gaze sent shivers down your spine, his dark eyes burning with a fury that seemed to consume him from within. His voice was laced with venom.

“You fucking bitch!”

You knew what came next, got used to the routine by now - the shouting, the violence, the destruction. It was a cycle that seemed impossible to break, a cycle that left you feeling numb. When he shoved you aside, your body collided painfully with the counter, but you barely registered the pain. It was a familiar sensation. So you stood there, frozen in place, as he continued his rampage, his voice cutting through the air like knives. His arms were wildly thrashing around, aggressive shouting meeting the walls of your apartment.

Picture frames crashed to the ground, their glass surfaces shattering into a thousand pieces, mirroring the shattered fragments of your once-hopeful relationship. The couch bore the scars of his anger, indentations where his feet had collided with its surface in a fit of fury. A book lay abandoned on the coffee table, its pages now crumpled and torn. You had forgotten about the plot anyway.

As he stormed through the room, his voice booming with unrestrained anger, you found yourself detached from the chaos unfolding before you, his words not registering in your mind - a protective barrier. You had been here before and it would happen again.

Bile rose up your throat. All the things he destroyed were remnants of the life you shared. The life you despised. Usually, you were able to swallow it back down but your eyes drifted to the coat rack where your jacket molded with his, and the nausea churning your stomach threatened to overwhelm you.

With a desperate lurch, you tore yourself away from the chaos unfolding in the living room and sprinted across the hallway toward the bathroom. You stumbled inside, barely managing to reach the toilet before the contents of your stomach erupted in a violent rush. The sound of Michaels' raging voice echoed in your ears like a distant storm.

“Ugh, you disgusting bitch!” Michaels' curses reached your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut. You heard keys jingling, indicating that he was making a hasty exit. “You better get a grip before I come back, or you’ll pay!”

His parting threat hung in the air like a dark cloud as you heard the door slam. You slummed against the bathroom floor, cold tiles pressing against your back. Tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the bitter taste of bile still lingering in your mouth.

You didn’t know how long you laid there. But as you pushed yourself up from the floor, your muscles protested and your back felt sore. Avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you leaned heavily against the sink, reaching for your toothbrush to scrub away the remnants of bile.

As you leaned down to spit out the foamy toothpaste, your eyes caught something beneath the sink, lying on the floor. Your heart skipped a beat, a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was your phone. You had snatched it from Michaels' grasp before his anger spiraled out of control and he hadn’t retrieved it before he left in haste, not wanting to deal with a vomiting girl.

Clammy hands reached down to pick it up and you and unlocked it. Michael had changed your password but seemingly forgot to delete your fingerprint. In a blur of urgency, your fingers flew over the screen, calling back your coworker.

Carol had eased you over the phone and left her own apartment with a quick ‘hold tight, kid’ in a rush to get to you. Relief flooded your senses as she gained herself access to your home by picking the lock. You didn’t know how long Michael would be gone and you felt your heart beating erratically the whole time you packed your few possessions into the boxes Carol had gathered. She had offered you her place to stay but you declined, knowing you had to put some distance between him and yourself.

Your eyes flew open, the sudden jolt rippling you from the clutches of the memory that had ensnared you in its chilling grip. You tried to catch a breath, feeling sweat coating your skin like a clammy shroud.

A hand was running soothing patterns on your back and your eyes focused on Wanda sitting beside you in your bed, concern etched deep into her features. She was talking but her voice didn’t reach your ears, distant words that seemed lost in the disorientating fog of your mind.

It took some moments for her voice to pierce through the haze. “I need you to breathe Y/n, come on!” She urged softly, not letting up to rub your back.

You managed to draw in a few shaky breaths as you clung to the sheets beneath you. Your racing heart calmed down and the room seemed to come into sharper focus. A heavy sigh left your lips.

Wanda’s touch gently withdrew from your back after your breaths visibly evened out again. She kept sitting on the edge of your bed, a sigh in her breath. A sense of tranquility hung in the air, a heaviness settling like a veil of velvet.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Surprisingly, that was all you needed. You sat there, bathed in the soft glow of the moon filtering through the windows, and a sense of comfort washed over you. You had kept your struggles hidden for so long, afraid to burden her with your troubles but the weight of your past pressed down on you like a heavy cloak and she obviously knew something was going on. Your friendship had taken a soft blow due to your silence and you refused to grant Michael the satisfaction he would most definitely feel of prolonging it.

So after your small nod, Wanda slid under your sheets, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth. With each word that tumbled from your lips, you unburdened yourself of the weight that had been taking residence in your chest for so long.

You recounted the early days of your relationship with Michael, the tender moments and sweet gestures that had initially swept you off your feet. His charm had been intoxicating, his affection seemingly boundless. That was as far as you told your friends.

But then you also told her about the darker, more sinister side of Michaels' personality, that came out after a while. How his possessiveness had escalated gradually and the need to control everything - dictating where you could go, who you could see, and what you could wear. Raised voices and heated arguments had become the norm, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation.

You let her examine the bruises that still littered your wrists from the day before - the day you left. You had become adept at hiding the evidence of Michaels' abuse, concealing the physical manifestations of his cruelty beneath layers of clothing and make-up. Yet, as they lay exposed for Wanda to see, a strange sense of relief washed over you.

Tears were shed, both, Wanda's and yours and it took a while until everything that gripped at your heart was laid bare, sunlight now filtering through the curtains but Wanda listened intently. She held your hand when you choked on words and offered you the kind of comfort you had been craving for years, a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

She embraced you in a tight hug after you were done. “I’m so sorry, Y/n! I’m so sorry!” It was the only thing she could manage, struggling to find her voice.

****

Brick walls stared back at you hauntingly. They had a different color now. The sunlight played upon the textured surface, casting shadows that danced across the facade, accentuating the subtle variations in color.

You noticed the meticulous attention to detail that had gone into the renovation of your parent's house. The one you grew up in. Though it felt little like the house you knew. The mortar between the bricks appeared fresh, neatly applied to fill in any gaps and cracks that had formed over the years you lived there. Your parents seemed to have taken care to restore the exterior, washing away any indications that you had lived there not long ago.

The wooden doorframe gleamed with a fresh coat of varnish, the scratches on its surface you were responsible for, when you were a kid not visible anymore. The brass doorknob was polished, reflecting the sunlight in dazzling glints.

In the driveway, parked in the spot, where your old family car used to rest was a vehicle you didn’t recognize - a sleek, modern model that seemed out of place in the suburban neighborhood. Your parents never told you about the new car or anything else they did to the house, living their life without you.

A bucket of ice water could have been poured over your head and you wouldn’t have felt much colder than you already did. It was a sunny day, you even had to squint your eyes and still got blinded but nothing could make you feel warm at the sight of the house in front of you that looked so familiar, yet foreign. You felt disconnected from the life you once had here.

Your mother never had a hand at gardening, her forgetfulness to water the potted plants she still put in every corner of your house and in front of it, resulted in withered blooms and dried leaves strewn across the ground until she got annoyed and threw them out. A reflection of your relationship.

So you found yourself staring at the tended flower beds and carefully arranged pots now littering the front yard with a bitterness that left your mouth dry. The sudden burst of enthusiasm for gardening she must have had felt like a slap in the face, the realization that your departure had inadvertently paved the way for your mother to rediscover herself in ways she had never before considered.

You thought about knocking. Maybe it was a fleeing wish your parents would welcome you with open arms and a smile on their faces. But that possibility was small - or not there at all. Sorrow filled your stomach at the thought of facing your parents, or confronting the painful truth that they had moved on without you. You had become a distant memory in their lives already, a footnote in the narrative of their newfound happiness.

Your arrival wouldn’t be met with relieved smiles and comfort, it would only serve to reopen old wounds and stir up long-buried resentments - you would be a burden. The weight of reality bore down upon you with crushing force.

“What are you doing there looking like a lost lamb?”

Your head snapped away from the house with the lost fragments of your childhood, gaze meeting the weathered visage of an elderly man slowly making his way towards you on the sidewalk you have been standing on for who knows how long. He leaned on a sturdy walking stick, a flat hat resting atop his grey hair.

Your eyes widened upon seeing him better. “Mr. Clark!” you exclaimed, a warm sensation making way in your stomach at the old shopkeeper of the gardening store further down the road you always passed on your way to school as a kid.

You vividly remembered the time you had stumbled and fallen on the sidewalk, knees and hands scraped, and tears streaming down your cheeks. He had seen you trip through the windows of his shop and rushed out to ease you and take you home. He had been more gentle than your mother was.

Upon hearing his name the old man’s gaze sharpened and a slow smile crept across his face. He halted a few inches away from you, hooded eyes scanning your features. “Well, well,” he mused, “Would you look at who’s come back to town.” His gaze lingered on you, it looked like he could see right through you. “Been a while since I’ve seen you around, child. You look different. Almost didn’t recognize you.”

Did you look different?

You had no idea what you looked like the last time you were around.

“Yeah, I haven’t been here for quite some time.”

A sheepish chuckle escaped your lips and your eyes drifted back to the house.

Mr. Clark followed your gaze and he took a big breath. “I’m sorry about your parents kid. It’s a shame they left town. I don’t even know where it took them.” He kept his eyes on the building but your gaze burned in his side.

Your heart constricted inside your chest, feeling like it had just been pierced by thousands of small needles. You didn’t feel yourself breathing and were unable to blink.

Left town?

Your parents had left town?

You guessed that was the confirmation you needed. The final blow, the definite proof that they had moved on without you. You had clung to the hope that perhaps, deep down, they still cared and that there was still a chance to mend the fractured relationship between them and you. But now that hope felt like nothing more than a cruel illusion - a mirage in the desert of your longing.

Slowly, your eyes shifted back to the house in front of you. The neatly arranged pots of plants, the well-tended front guard, the fresh coat of paint, the new car - it all made sense now. It wasn’t your parents who had renovated the house, but rather the people who lived in it now.

Guilt consumed you like a relentless beast, tearing at your insides with its sharp claws and gnashing teeth. If you hadn’t left and just followed the path your parents had laid out for you, then perhaps they would still be here. If you finished college they probably would still be a part of your life. If you-

“Is everything alright, child? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The voice of Mr. Clark once again snapped you back to reality with a subtle flinch. You tried a smile reaching your lips but it might have come out as more of a grimace.

“Uh, yeah. I-” you started, choking on your words, but Mr. Clark had already resumed his walk, indicating you to follow him with a wink of his walking stick.

“I think you could use some water, dear.”

A weary sigh left your lips but you felt too tired to relent, so you met his pace, walking side by side.

You neared the gardening store, he still seemed to have kept in his old days. “The boys will be there already,” he remarked. You turned to him confused.

“The boys?”

You saw the bikes first. Two of them, parked in front of the gardening store that - other than anything else in this town as it felt like - hadn’t changed at all since you left. You recognized those bikes. They stood outside the bar the day before yesterday when you dragged Pietro home and met some of the bikers for the first time. The telltale dent in the front of one of them caught your attention as it had that evening. A stark contrast against the pristine surface of its companion.

Then two figures came into sight. One leaned casually against the wall near the opening of the store, exuding an air of nonchalance, shoulders shaking with a laugh as he had his arms crossed in front of his chest. The other stood before him, his body language tinged with irritation. A hand came up to run over his face.

As you drew closer to the store the figures standing in the shadows began to take shape and you recognized them immediately. It was Sam and Bucky. Sam was leaning against the wall, his teasing grin on display, a laugh in his breath. A groan from Bucky met your ears and although he stood with his back to you, annoyance radiated from him in waves.

Sam seemed to have spotted you, judging by the smile that lifted his cheeks as he pushed off the wall and uncrossed his arms. “What a way to meet again!” he called out to you.

You surely hadn’t expected to meet them here and it threw you off the loop for a second but Sam’s bright grin managed a genuine smile to reach your eyes. Bucky had turned around and you met his gaze briefly but before you could conjure up another smile or read his expression, Mr. Clark walked past you with a jingle of his keys, to open the door to his shop.

“That girl stood there pale as a ghost. Thought some water would do her well, eh?” he declared, letting out a gruff chuckle. “Don’t want her passing out on the sidewalk.” His voice, weathered by age, held a hint of concern, albeit expressed in a rather blunt manner that had a blush creeping up your cheeks in embarrassment.

The old man entered the store and you quickly fell into step behind him, not needing the two guys to dwell on your momentary discomfort.

You picked up that Sam had been about to say something but then a grunt escaped his lips behind you, followed by an aggravated “Damn you, man,” directed at Bucky who had evidently delivered a punch to Sam’s side.

You never really had entered Mr. Clark's store before - Never really were in need of a gardening supply but the interior bore the marks of age with a weathered elegance, the wooden shelves displaying an assortment of gardening supplies with a sense of rustic charm. Vintage gardening posters and faded photographs adorned the walls, adding to its nostalgic allure.

However, you barely had a moment to take in the store's ambiance before Mr. Clark practically ushered you into a wooden chair behind the small counter and disappeared behind a nearby door.

“Mr. Clark, you really don’t have to-” you began calling after him but your words were swiftly interrupted as he reappeared, handing you a glass of water.

“Drink the water, child,” he ordered and diverted his attention to the two guys standing a few feet away, seemingly caught up in a glaring contest. “And you two boys, stop with the stalling and get on with the work. That’s what you are here for, aren’t you?.”

With a final warning glare towards Sam, Bucky’s demeanor shifted from tense to purposeful as he began to pick up a lawn mower standing next to the entrance and moved the heavy machinery to where Mr. Clark indicated.

Meanwhile, Sam took charge of the flower pots, rearranging them with care. From your vantage point behind the counter, you observed their actions, nibbling at your water when Mr. Clark sent you a glare across the room. They didn’t appear to be here out of obligation or duty, but rather out of a genuine desire to assist an old man who needed a helping hand - not being able to do it on his own anymore, but without wanting to give up his well-loved shop.

It seemed so ordinary for them to be here and do the work for this old man, it made you wonder what else they did around town - what other acts of kindness they might be involved in. Guilt found its way back to you, settling in your stomach and making it churn. The revelation that they actually appeared to be good-hearted people, had first dawned on you after your first initial encounter two days ago, but seeing them like this, engaged in such a well-meant act of kindness, solidified that understanding even further.

You took a few more sips of the water, hoping its coolness would calm the fluttering sensations in your chest. But the effect was fleeting, especially when you caught sight of the smile Bucky directed towards Mr. Clark.

It wasn’t that kind of smile you knew of Sam but it was more you had seen of him at the bar. It lit up his features with warmth and sincerity, small crinkles formed at the edges of his eyes - it was disarmingly charming.

He had shrugged off his jacket to better tackle the task at hand, revealing toned muscles rippling beneath his long-sleeved shirt. Lifting another lawn mower with ease, Bucky’s back muscles contorted visibly. His hands were both covered with gloves and you noticed the little specks of dirt that had accumulated on his jeans throughout but he didn’t seem to mind.

You quickly averted your eyes upon noticing you yourself were watched. Dark eyes were fixed on you and your peripheral could make out the knowing smirk that grazed Sam’s face. Glancing around the gardening store once more, trying to maintain a fond of indifference after being caught ogling at his friend, you saw Sam turn back to his task but the smirk on his lips didn’t leave his face.

You took in the store a little more, looking out the forefront and imagining seeing little you walking by on your way home from school with your little backpack on, the zipper broken because it was always a little too packed. Sunlight filtered through, casting a warm glow over the interior and illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Wooden floorboards creaked under heavy boots.

You found appeal in the idea of helping out here yourself. It was a cozy place and you were in need of a job.

After your nightmare yesterday and the heartfelt conversation with Wanda, you had found a small sense of solace again. You both went to Pietro to check up on him and spent the day. When you also confided in him about your troubled past, Wanda and you had to ease him out of buying a ticket to Seattle to ‘show him how he deserves to be treated’. You had spent the whole day with them, filled with take-out and movies, bringing back that comfort you had missed for so long.

Nonetheless, Wanda had to return to her job today. After all, she had completed her graphic design degree and was working from home, designing a new logo for a local startup company. Not wanting to disrupt her creative flow, you had decided to take a leisurely walk around town earlier in the hope it would clear your mind and perhaps explore potential job opportunities in the area.

However, as you strolled through the familiar streets, you found yourself in front of your parent's house - well, which wasn’t their house anymore as it seemed.

Perhaps you might have even fled out of your new shared apartment with Wanda earlier. Watching her immersed in her graphic design work only served to amplify the ache in your heart. The urgency to secure a job as quickly as possible might stem from the deep-seated longing and regret that consumed you. You could have been in the same position as Wanda, pursuing a degree in graphic design and building a career from it.

You might not have been as talented or passionate as Wanda was and probably not as happy, but you also weren’t happy in the place you found yourself in right now - essentially losing three years of your life, along with the love of your parents and the sense of identity you once possessed could do that to a person.

“Do I need to get you some water as well, son? Work isn’t finished yet.”

Once again, Mr. Clark's voice jolted you back to the present, snapping you away from the tangle of thoughts that had consumed you. You turned your head, watching Bucky getting pulled out of wherever his own mind had drifted, grumbling a quick response to the elderly man and hastily making his way back towards the entrance to fiddle with a few gardening tools.

Sam wore that knowing smirk again, as he continued with his own task. It was clear that he had noticed Bucky’s momentary lapse in focus and was likely already formulating a teasing remark to poke fun at him later on. Well, that was how you imagined their kind of relationship to be.

You were intrigued to find out what might have caught Bucky’s attention that left him almost bashful after being caught.

Mr. Clark walked by you and you stood from the chair, taking the chance to talk to him. “I could help you out as well, Mr. Clark-” you started but got boldly interrupted again.

“I’ve got the boys already, child. They’re more than enough to keep an old man busy. No need for any more fuss,” he declared, dismissing your offer and taking the glass out of your hand to refill it again despite your protests, handing it back to you. “Don’t you have more pressing matters to attend to? A better job?”

You shook your head, your fingers tightened their hold on the glass. “Uhm. No, I’m still looking for one.”

“You’re looking for a job?”

Sam's voice behind you made you turn around to see him standing up and dusting off his jeans, his gaze on you.

“Sam,” Bucky warned sharply from his place, turning to him as well after adjusting a wheelbarrow, his movements stiff.

Sam seemed used to ignoring Bucky, his grin just widening and undeterred by the way Bucky’s hard glare burned holes in his side.

“We could use some help in the bar,” he continued, his voice casual but he still wore that ever-present smirk. The kind that made you think he knew something you didn’t.

Surprise etched your features and the tension that crackled in the air as you exchanged glances between Sam and Bucky left you a little unsettled. Bucky wasn’t meeting your eyes, his shoulders tense and his arms were held at his side awkwardly, fingers twitching.

Nonetheless, you couldn’t deny it was alluring - Sam’s suggestion. It would certainly be more exciting working in their bar than a gardening store, managed by a moody old man. The prospect of immersing yourself in the vibrant energy of a bustling bar scene appealed to the sense of distraction you could definitely use right now, in your current situation. And the bar surely held some sense of charm.

Bucky’s reaction though left you a little uneasy. Sure, it was a demanding job and not always that easy or even safe. Rowdy patrons, bar fights, and unwelcome advances from strangers were something you had to expect to happen in a bar, but you had experience, having worked in a bar in Seattle before Michael had put an end to it. He wouldn’t get a chance this time.

Perhaps Bucky didn’t believe you were capable of handling yourself in a bar environment. Yes, you had flinched this morning by the mundane sound of the kettle clicking off but did you actually look that helpless? A pang of indignation elicited in your stomach at the notion that Bucky might have already formed a judgment about your abilities grated against you. After all, you had navigated heated situations before with finesse - admittedly, you were lacking that kind of confidence now that you still had back then but you couldn’t help the small flicker of anger simmering inside you.

Your assumptions about Bucky’s reactions could possibly be off base, you had to acknowledge. You had been wrong about these guys before, forming your own judgments based on your imagined version of bikers so you considered the possibility that his apprehension had little to do with you, but rather himself. Whatever was going on inside his mind. He did seem like an overthinker if you were being honest.

But regardless of the reasons for his reaction, there was one thing you hadn’t lost; the stubborn sense to prove yourself.

Sam seemed to have read your answer in your expression, because his grin widened and he pulled out a gardening chair, sitting down and gesturing for you to take a seat on the one you had occupied before.

“We’re having a job interview,” he declared after you blinked at him in confusion, making it seem like it wasn’t utterly surreal to do this in the midst of a gardening store.

“Here? Now?”

A deep frustrated sigh caught your attention and you observed Bucky running a hand over his face in exasperation, mirroring his earlier actions outside the store. With another unsure glance at Sam, you hesitantly took a seat in front of him.

“Sam, don’t do this,” Bucky sighed, clearly done with him but Sam just pressed on with his agenda - leaning forward in his seat and fixing you with a feigned serious expression.

He started asking you about your full name and age, saving it in his phone. It was actually impressive how Sam managed to ignore the sharp glares of Bucky, while they made you shift on your rickety chair uncomfortably, although they weren’t even meant for you.

The relationship between those two remained a mystery to you. They were like opposing forces, caught in an eternal tug-of-war - Their banter full of irritation and teasing. You got a glimpse of their bickering at the bar and it seemed to be a normal occurrence. But then you noticed the subtle glances from Sam, as to check on Bucky and the almost fond clap on his shoulder after entering the store - they were breadcrumbs leading to a hidden story.

Eventually, Bucky redirected his attention back to the few gardening tools scattered in a corner - trowels, rakes, and a rusted watering can and started rearranging them. You watched him from the corner of your eye.

You offered Sam a court sketch of your past - the brief experience of college life that you abandoned to see the world beyond your little town. You left unsaid how your departure fractured the relationship with your parents, how their silence became a chasm. You skirted around their disappointment, the unspoken ache that wrapped around you like a well-worn scarf. The plans they had woven for you - the threads of stability, the safety net of expectations - and you had shredded them like old love letters. There was no need to delve into the guilt, the jagged edges of remorse.

To your surprise, Sam’s expression remained unclouded by judgment. His features were soft, understanding etched into the lines around his eyes and you felt yourself relax into the chair. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the falter in Bucky's movements and the way his body stilled at one point of your recap, curious eyes flickering toward you. You kept your gaze on Sam.

“Where’d you go?”

Sam's inquiry hung over you, a weight pressing down on your chest. Your throat tightened and you cleared your throat before forcing yourself to respond, the word escaping in a curt tone.

“Seattle.”

Sam eased back into his chair, arms folding across his chest. “Impressive move,” he remarked with a smile and a slight nod of his head, “I’ve never been to Seattle, but it’s got that buzz for sure.” His words held a quiet enthusiasm, a stark contrast to your own muted tone. You longed to see the city through Sam’s eyes, to rediscover its vibrancy beyond the shadows that clung to your past there.

“Why did you come back?”

You should have expected Sam to ask that but your breath hitched nonetheless, the room seemingly closing in on you. Your mouth opened but nothing came out. Fingers fidgeted with the fabric of your jacket in your lap and your palms started getting clammy. Feigning indifference, you hesitated, as if carefully selecting your words.

“Uhm,” was all you managed, silence stretching like an eternity, though it was likely mere seconds only.

“You don’t have to answer that!”

Bucky’s voice cut through the air and your head snapped toward him, a touch startled. For a moment, you even forgot he was there, the clattering of the gardening tools had ceased probably a while ago already and he stood there standing in your direction. His gaze locked with yours, sincerity emanating from his blue eyes and something that looked a lot like a heavy understanding.

“Now stop this Sam, this is ridiculous.” Bucky’s gaze hardened again as it swung back to Sam. Said man rolled his eyes in a comical display of exasperation, arms flailing in the air.

“Can’t have fun with this guy,” he quipped, voice dripping with mock seriousness. Bucky exhaled a heavy breath as he returned to his work, the lines of his jaw etching in frustration.

Sam's attention shifted back to you, clapping his hands together with enthusiasm. “Alright, well,” he declared, “Welcome to the team! The job is yours.”

“You can’t decide that,” Bucky stated flatly, his back still turned to you.

Sam smirked, undeterred. “Sure can, man,” he countered, rising from his chair.

You observed them both quietly from your chair, grateful that the attention had shifted from you. You took a deep breath, savoring the momentary respite. However, the creak of the backroom door reminded you of the presence of Mr. Clark, who reappeared, his hooded eyes sweeping over you three.

“Is this a clandestine gathering, children?” he rasped, pointing his stick at each of you in turn. “Your work is done here, sons. Now get out of here, will you?”

Sam grinned and gave Bucky a clap on the back as he walked passed him to the entrance. “Until next week then, Mr. Clark,” he threw over his shoulder.

Bucky shot you a brief look and followed Sam with a nod to the old man.

“It was nice to see you again Mr. Clark,” you said before making your way to the entrance as well. Bucky held the door open for you and you thanked him as you stepped into the daylight.

“Need a ride home?” Bucky’s voice was gruff, yet gentler than you had heard before. Sam perked up at his question, surprise dancing across his features that quickly morphed into an amused smirk.

“That’s really nice, thank you,” you replied, your smile genuine. “But I’m not far, really.”

Bucky nodded, a fleeting smile curving his lips. “Alright well, get home safe then.” He swung his leg over his black bike - the one with the damaged front you noticed.

“Well Y/n, I guess we’ll be seeing you soon,” Sam remarked, throwing you a wink as he got on his own bike.

You exchanged quick goodbyes and soon enough the rumble of their bikes faded into the distance, leaving behind a lingering echo.

You chose the longer route home, deliberately avoiding the street that led past your parents' former house. The sun dipped lower secondly, casting elongated shadows on the pavement. The pebble you kicked along the sidewalk became your silent companion, its journey mirroring your own - a solitary wanderer seeking solace.

The irony of your situation didn’t escape you. A few days ago, the notion of accepting a job at a biker bar would have been laughable for you. But as you had learned, life had a way of upending expectations, revealing the hidden layers beneath the surface.

And as yesterday, Bucky etched his way into your thoughts. He was still an enigma to you. His gruff exterior, a fortress of stoicism, belied the intricate layers beneath. You got a glimpse of it again today. A softness that defied the world-worn facade. Determination stirred within you, urging you to unravel the mystery that surrounded him.

Since you would work in their bar now you were aware you’d see him more often and it filled you with a fluttering sensation - both thrilling and treacherous. You knew the risks, the precipice upon which you stood, but curiosity tugged at your sleeve.

He wasn’t easy to read, this biker with eyes like storm clouds. You wondered if you would ever learn to see behind the broodiness, the armor he wore like a second skin.

Perhaps you would find the key to unlock the enigma - the heart that beat beneath the leather.

“She’s battling things her smile will never tell you about”

- Jonny Ox

Tag list:

@heletsmelovehim @moonlightreader649

[illusianation]

Well. Helloooo! It’s been approximately 184 years since I posted any kind of meta on this site, let alone a TWD-related meta. But here we are, in the year 2024, no less. Nothing like The Book of Carol and Melissa’s return to bring some of us back. Unfortunately, it’s been a mixed bag, and current spoilers point to some really disturbing info about our beloved characters, specifically Daryl. The following is from a recent Twitter post made regarding Daryl’s character and thought it would be cool to post here, too.

CW: Daryl - relationships + trauma

There are so many feelings about the spoilers re: Daryl/Isabelle, and this post isn’t meant to invalidate any of them or defend the storytelling choices or retcon. Umm, no. Not at all. That’s a whole other post and many others have written extensively on the issues of show-running, creative consistency, and marketing of The Book of Carol. It’s not even about shipping, really. On the contrary, this post is to share some thoughts about Daryl as he is now, viewed a bit thru a trauma lens.

Before I start, I feel it’s important to note that I am an LCSW, or Licensed Clinial Social Worker, in the US.

A big part of viewing what’s going on with Daryl’s character is to start by posing some important questions: Where is Daryl emotionally? What’s going on in is his headspace? Is he clinging to what’s there in France because he feels utterly alone and resigned to his fate? What if Daryl is actually able to open himself up to Laurent and Isabelle in part because of his relationship with Carol and not in spite of it? What if he’s capable of connection & love with others precisely because his OG found-family showed him what it can look like in so many ways? Hear me out. It is a powerful thing to consider, especially given that Carol, Judith, and his family undeniably shaped Daryl, offering him his first real sense of belonging and trust. Now it appears totally lost to him - a devastating, compounded, and total loss. And he is NOT OKAY.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t OOC for him to connect with others the way he has and/or regress. As we know, trauma survivors like Daryl, especially those with histories of domestic violence, complex trauma, childhood abuse, and neglect, often find themselves in cyclical patterns of vulnerability. It does make sense that Daryl, even after growing in his relationships with Carol and the fam, might still be susceptible to getting involved in dysfunctional relationship dynamics (cough *Leah* cough) His need to care for others, while being a strength, also exposes him to people who might exploit that—whether intentionally or not. He is, in a sense, truly acting out of character.

In Daryl's current emotional state he’s completely unmoored (by a literal ocean of impossible distance no less) from his foundation of emotional safety, and has appeared to regress to the point of being unrecognizable to some. The idea that Daryl's protective nature and discomfort with intimacy coexists with an ability to be exploited by others, speaks volumes to the complexity of trauma responses and his arrested development. Daryl can embody fierce loyalty and affection, yet be caught in cycles of seeking out or gravitating toward what’s familiar, even if that familiarity is rooted in pain or dysfunction. There are not a lot of options for relational safety in the ZA. Isabelle, Leah, and even Rick, all in their own ways, represent that tug of codependency and trauma-bonding for Daryl. Not to mention, when there are children connected, his protective instinct becomes exponential.

Daryl’s current isolation, insecurity, and uncertainty about the depth of Carol’s love and his OG found-family provides a pretty valid underpinning for why he might be more open to a connection with Isabelle and Laurent, and even actively choose it when given the opportunity to go home. It’s not the arc that makes the truest sense for Daryl, but it is still very true to life in the way trauma can regress personal growth, even temporarily.

At the same time, it’s 100% understandable that this shift feels like a betrayal to Daryl’s character, as it undermines the progress he’s made and relationship choices he’s made in the past. The narrative may fall really short of pushing Daryl forward, instead choosing to revert to old tropes that fail to capture the nuance of his journey. By ignoring the potential for deeper, more layered storytelling, the show risks alienating viewers who’ve been invested in Daryl’s growth over the years. It already has, and I see y’all out there. 🫶🏼

Ultimately, it’s the tension between authenticity in trauma responses and narrative sense and progression that leaves the audience, Daryl, and most likely Carol, completely unsatisfied. IRL, growth is non-linear but in fiction, especially after so much buildup (and let’s face it MISDIRECTION) it’s not unfair to expect a clearer arc forward, versus regression into old patterns.

Hopefully, the progression will materialize in resolution which will in turn, lead inevitably to - truly actualized, authentic, and absolute love in all ways for Daryl with the safest, most accepting person person in his life, Carol. After all, Spain is still out there.

Part 2 Coming Soon: Carol and Survivors’ Guilt

[jetwhenitsmidnight]

Compound Fracture by Andrew Joseph White

Release date: 3 September 2024

Genre: young adult contemporary horror/thriller

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Synopsis

A gut-wrenching story following a trans autistic teen who survives an attempted murder, only to be drawn into the generational struggle between the rural poor and those who exploit them.

On the night Miles Abernathy—sixteen-year-old socialist and proud West Virginian—comes out as trans to his parents, he sneaks off to a party, carrying evidence that may finally turn the tide of the blood feud plaguing Twist Creek: Photos that prove the county’s Sheriff Davies was responsible for the so-called “accident” that injured his dad, killed others, and crushed their grassroots efforts to unseat him.

The feud began a hundred years ago when Miles’s great-great-grandfather, Saint Abernathy, incited a miners’ rebellion that ended with a public execution at the hands of law enforcement. Now, Miles becomes the feud’s latest victim as the sheriff’s son and his friends sniff out the evidence, follow him through the woods, and beat him nearly to death.

In the hospital, the ghost of a soot-covered man hovers over Miles’s bedside while Sheriff Davies threatens Miles into silence. But when Miles accidently kills one of the boys who hurt him, he learns of other folks in Twist Creek who want out from under the sheriff’s heel. To free their families from this cycle of cruelty, they’re willing to put everything on the line—is Miles?

Content warnings

Transphobia, misgendering, deadnaming

Death, murder, violence, blood, gore, body horror, injury, fire injury

Gun violence

Hospitalisation

Car crash

Mentioned animal death/abuse

Implied sexual assault

Toxic friendship

Drug abuse/drug addiction

Ableism

Classism

(I did my best to get all the content warnings, but I might have missed some things so do be warned)

Review

Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC!!!

I have heard nothing but good things about the author's other works, so I went into this book excited, but trying to temper my expectations in case I got let down.

Y'all. This book is pure FIRE.

This book is horrifying and visceral, but at the same time, it's moving and sincere. While this book tackles heavy topics like transphobia and classism, it's also very much about the importance of family and community.

Not to mention that the story/plot is absolutely gripping. I was tempted to finish this in one sitting, but I made myself pace it out so that I could enjoy it longer. Every chapter ended on a cliffhanger that made me want to keep reading. The author does a great job of interspersing the really dark moments with hopeful ones, so the book never gets too bogged down in despair.

One thing I have to mention is that I was very much NOT prepared for how dark this book got. I think I underestimated it because it's categorised as young adult, but this book gets really heavy.

If I had to critique something, it would be the formatting. The first page of each chapter is all black with white text, and all the other pages are the regular white with black text. The changes in page and text colour threw me out of the story a little, but TBH this is like a really minor nitpick, and also the only negative thing I have to say about this book.

[licncourt]

Ohhhh can we get into it? That post about Louis San Fran bender. Going after people who look like lestat. Maybe Louis doesn’t sleep with all of them, maybe a few but he feeds on the rest and drains them. Lestat realizing he’s made his own little magnus in a way…

San Francisco era Louis being an utter and total freak is something that is so important to me, I really cannot stop talking about it. The psychosexual aspect of the gay serial killer phenomenon as it relates to Louis is something I've discussed a lot (on here and in my fic about that) because I think it explains so much about how he looks at sex and desire. Sex and violence can't really be separated in his head (Catholic freak), especially when he's at a serious low point, so when he engages with them they are often enacted together.

When he's alone in San Francisco, he seems to be in a weird place mentally where he's in a state of obvious apathy, but also more prone to gratuitous violence. I think it does make sense, even though it seems contradictory. Vampirism is inherently violent, so those outbursts are coming from a lack of will to restrain his nature rather than real passion and the release of built up pressure the way they did before. It's exceptionally chilling and predatory. There's something very human about losing control, but the way Louis seems to approach killing in the pre-TVL era is distinctly monstrous and inhuman.

I think it's in QotD that we find out Louis initially chose Daniel as a potential victim because of his resemblance to Lestat, so this is canonically where his mind is at the time of the interview. It also shows that he's was probably cognizant of what was going on even at the time and it doesn't even seem like it bothered him that much that he was doing it. That's what makes San Francisco Louis so scary imo, just that small acknowledgment shows us that his violence is honing in on something and the obsession is either setting in or already there.

The implication in the book (AND the original short story) that the place Louis met Daniel was a gay bar adds a layer to it as well in a very human and sexual sense. Not only did he choose a Lestat lookalike, but it seems like he chose to hunt in a (homo)sexually charged environment on purpose. His whole vibe reminds me of an addict who's been using for so long that there's no dopamine rush anymore and is getting more extreme in chasing a very particular high. The allegory of addiction is always very strong in Louis, but the way it presents during this period is kind of a continuation of that narrative.

I think if Lestat hadn't woken up, Louis could have easily devolved into what Magnus became. He has that incredibly addictive personality and he's prone to obsession and pathological rumination anyway. By 1973, we can see how detached he was from humanity already. Imagine him in 300 or 500 years, after so much death and isolation. Nothing in there except hunger and memories that he's clung to for so long that they're horrifically distorted, maybe unrecognizable except for blue eyes and blonde hair.

@nasnyys is the beautiful mind behind the Lestat POV aspect of this so I can't speak on that a ton, but I love it SO much. A huge part of Lestat's story is how he can't seem to break out of existing cycles and he's often the catalyst for that continuation against his will. It seems to disturb him the most when he sees those cycles repeating in Louis (to the point where I would say he imagines them at times), so I think this would absolutely not be lost on him. Maybe he would perceive it as Magnus "tainting" him to the point where whatever Lestat creates has some essence of his maker/abuser, like it's intrinsically a part of him somehow. It's very sad, I would love to think on it more and come back with something better to say!