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#which is to say i think i experience certain things maybe on the outer bounds of neurotypical people
nbstevonnie · 2 years
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so my sister and i were chatting about self-diagnosing cause she'd done a test for ADHD and i was like 'yeah, i've also done ADHD and autism tests a few times' and she was like 'i can't lie, i've straight up done an autism test for you too' which. i can't help but find really funny 😂 like we both looked at me and went 'well, SOMETHING must be up' 😂
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war--lords · 5 years
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Hanayome
Warnings: Female!Reader, mild family conflict, possible inaccuracy Word count: 3,648 words (Exactly same as last chapter! What sorcery) Tagged: #hanayome Translations and important notes:
It’s done! This is the last chapter. I plan on putting out another one that is kind of like an optional chapter with no plot in it whatsoever.
I also really hope you understand what’s happening in this chapter, there’s a lot of explaining and I stayed up till like 3 am to try and write it so it may not be the most cohesive.
Part 1 Part 2
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3.
You don’t remember losing consciousness.
You let out a sigh, your skin enjoying the coolness of the futon you lie on. Its fabric is softer than what you’re used to, almost like satin. It is with great reluctance that you open your eyes, because you don’t feel like you want to leave the bedding. Blinking slowly, you try to gauge your surroundings—a regular-sized room, its flooring covered with regular tatami mat, making it look almost like an inn. A nice inn, granted, thanks to the artistically placed decorations and plants. 
In the corner of the room in front of you sits a man. He is facing a low table, pouring something from a flask into a saucer-like cup. Sake, you assume.
Strange. Your fever seems like it has dissipated, for you no longer feel woozy or mildly uncomfortable, but you’re still warm—from sleeping, perhaps? The weather outside is far from hot, the night breeze cool after the rain. 
You sit up, allowing your eyes to adjust to lantern-lit room. It’s still dark outside, but there’s enough light from the inside to let you look at him more closely. Nobunaga, he said his name was. What an awfully human name. His raven black hair frames his face, carnelian eyes seemingly glowing as he focuses on the cups. You can see his profile quite clearly from your spot in the mid-sized room—the slide of his nose, his lips, his jawline…
Even while appearing human he possesses an unmistakably supernatural aura. It’s almost visible to the naked eye, rolling off of him slowly in huge amounts like midnight waves by the beach. There’s something about him that draws you in—that something being everything.
“How are you feeling?”
“Confused,” you reply, as if you didn’t just pass out. You regard your clothing: a silk sleeping kimono and a beautiful red haori that you are thankful for, as it effectively covers the curve of your bosom. Your irouchikake is neatly folded by the side of the futon, and you try to ignore the fact that he undressed and redressed you. Did he see you naked?
“How long was I out for?”
“An hour, maybe a little more. You collapsed while trying to walk.” He walks toward you with a cup. “Drink.”
Liquor sounds counterproductive right now, but it could help you accept the more bizarre things that will undoubtedly unfold, so you take it from his hand. There’s a spark when your finger touches his. You do your best not to let your surprise show and grab the cup before downing its contents whole, the warmth down your throat distracting you from the effects of his touch.
His eyes watch you and you notice that his face is rather close. He is handsome, exceptionally so, and it frightens you a little to be thinking that in such a situation. You have pressing questions that are more important than admiring his physique—you can’t let yourself be distracted.
“You came here expecting some answers,” he says. He’s doing that again, ‘reading your mind’. Casually placing a hand on your forehead, he gauges your warmth, and upon finding none, he returns to the corner to carry the table closer to the futon. “But before I entertain your questions, you must entertain me first.”
“Go?” You ask, inspecting the board game spread out on the low table. 
“Surely you are familiar.”
“Yes,” you answer. Popular temple pastime. Still, it’s surprising to know that he indulges in human games.
The next few minutes are filled with silence, with the exception of the clicks and clacks of pieces on the wooden board. For a lone god dwelling in a mountain, he is a great player—never rushing, almost as if savoring the consideration of each move. You, on the other hand, find yourself mostly trying to avoid being overpowered. A strategy that is working so far, but you feel that it won’t last for long.
He pauses during his move, watching his pieces intently, and you can’t help but stare.
His hands and fingers look strong, yet elegant, the kind you’d see in koto or shamisen players. He wears a simple black kimono decorated with gold elaborate designs, leaving behind his additional outer layers—even gods have attires that are purely ceremonial, you suppose. The loose sleeves allow you a glance at his forearms, beautifully curved with muscle. Without checking yourself, your gaze goes up and up, to his shoulders and collarbone, to the teasing parting of his kimono on his chest, to his collarbone—
By the time you arrive at his face, he’s already looking at you, a positively smug expression pasted on his face. You look down at the go board despite it not being your turn yet—the embarrassment! Willing all your blood to avoid your cheeks at all cost, you try to focus on the game.
It makes you wonder why you lost. The focusing did more harm than good, so it seems, or he’s just really good at playing. 
“Was that entertainment enough for you?” You say, brushing your loose hair as a temporary distraction. You still refuse to believe he caught you staring.
“Quite,” he answers amusedly, putting away the pieces and the board. “It has been a while since I’ve had a human opponent.” Which means he’s always played against inhumans. You wonder if his playmates are other gods, a question that you decide to push to the bottom of the list. Important questions only.
“You may speak your business,” he declares, sounding official even as he casually pours out another glass, this time for him as well. 
“May I be honest with you,” you pause, “Lord Nobunaga?”
He doesn’t seem to dislike the honorific. Also, you realize the redundancy of your question too late. He can see through you like a book. Wordlessly he permits you to continue, examining you with unreadable eyes. How unfair it is, that you’re so transparent in front of him while he’s still such a mystery.
“You have ruled over us for centuries, and never has it been written that you demand young women as part of the annual sacrifice. Why now?”
Again, Kiku’s voice rings in your ear. He said your name... he wants you.
“Destiny,” he answers, as if simply announcing the weather. “It is destiny that demands it, not I. Us gods may be almighty, but none of us are more powerful than destiny. Not even the Great Mother can escape it.”
You don’t even have to ask the question.
“You call her Amaterasu, ancient beyond all ages.”
“The Sun Goddess,” you murmur, nodding, “of course.”
“To us, she is the Great Mother of all beings, god and man alike. Even now she watches over us from the sky each day, but she has said that she is not above destiny. One day, though far away that day may be, the sun will die out.”
You remain quiet, considering your words. “So you’re saying destiny told you to marry?”
“At the beginning of my existence, destiny has whispered to me my predeterminations. I did not ask for a life of conquests—it was handed to me. My powers are the same.”
He looks at you just then, with a tenderness that no man has ever looked at you with. His hand reaches out for yours, enclosing around it with warm fingers, as if the electricity from before had melted away. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Your name was given to me when I came to being. I saw not your face, but the very essence of your soul. I have known you long before your ancestors were born—and I waited.”
There is a certain weight in his words, but strangely you feel your soul soaring in response. His warm hand feels as though it is holding your heart instead, gently and with great care, and you feel like you could give up right then and there.
“Have you no influence on people’s lives?” You ask quietly, as if not wanting to speak at all. You remember whatever romantic encounters you had with men—were those experiences merely to keep you accessible for him? There’s bitterness in your throat when you speak again.
“Could you not have any part in mine, some way to lead me to you?”
“I could,” he begins, and as he speaks he strokes your fingers with his thumb. You find it very comforting. “But everyone is bound to fate. I didn’t have to because I know that you are bound to me,” at these words he gently squeezed your hand, looking at it with an almost nostalgic look on his face, “and I to you.”
“So self-assured, even for a god.” Your commentary is meant to be incisive, maybe a tad reprimanding, but it comes out nearly like a loving, welcoming nudge. The corner of his lips turn into a smirk, definitely catching the same connotation, and you find yourself embarrassed, not unlike the way you were during the Go game earlier. 
“If you understand the course in which fate’s threads run, you’d be confident too.”
Perhaps he is discreetly addressing the creeping insecurities holding you back despite how right it feels to trust him. You want to just because it is the natural thing to do, but in the crevices of your heart lie doubts, and they have teeth, sinking into you slowly. What about the message he delivered himself—the young bride he wanted? Surely he knows of the abbot’s younger daughter.
“If you’ve known my name and face, why shoot an arrow from the sky?”
“To teach your father a lesson,” he answers. He always has an answer, it seems.
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “When he was only following your instructions?”
Something changes about his face, the subtleness of it making you think that he is somewhat surprised at your rebuke. He stops stroking your hands. When he looks into your eyes, it’s clear that he is searching for something that he doesn’t find. You’re left confused.
“What?” You ask, not able to stand the stillness.
“You don’t know,” he declares then, returning to his normal self, but in his amber-like eyes is reluctance.
“What is it that I do not know?” You ask again, insistent.
He seems to consider this for a while, examining your face like he’s evaluating how determined you are to know the truth. Seeing no signs of hesitation on your part, he yields, though everything about him remains as composed as ever. He then holds both your forearms, and with a sliding motion down to your hands, tells you to open your palms and face them up. You feel your breath picking up and heart palpitating, unsure of what he is about to do to you—he is going to explain, isn’t he?
“I shall show you,” he answers your silent question. “Close your eyes.”
You do as you’re told.
He purses his lips slightly, watching as you sit, eyes closed, in front of him on the futon. He has never been the deity that meddles into human affairs too much, only interfering if necessary. And at this moment, it is necessary—you have climbed many steps to reach his dwelling looking for answers. He saw this coming, yet it is still rather unfitting for him to be the one revealing such a personal matter. 
But denying you the truth would be unfair.
So he cups your cheek and he still finds it unreal. One would think meeting a god is unreal, but for so long you’ve been a phantom in his mind, shapeless and untouchable, and now you’re alive, in the flesh in front of him. His hand wanders up to your forehead, mapping your skin, feeling its warmth. Closing his own eyes for focus, he then presses his thumb gently to the center of your forehead, and begins to chant.
The incantation is foreign to your ears, but a few seconds in and you recognize a familiar feeling: floating. You almost feel drowsy, like you’re stuck between consciousness and sleep, but an uneasy sensation up your spine prevents you from losing grip of reality. His voice grows louder, unnaturally so, as you hear an otherworldly echo after each phrase he recites.
Images begin to float in your mind. The stone patterns of the staircase heading up the mountain repeats before your eyes, but this time it’s heading downwards. You follow the path, down, down, reminding you of the fever dream you had in the prayer room. It feels real. You can smell the earth in the rain, hear the sound of the bamboo forests rustling. From the sky above, his voice resounds, a constant stream of recitations as your vision brings you down the mountain. It isn’t long until you reach the temple.
The night is dark and none of the lights are on. In fact, it looks as though no one is home. You feel a force guiding you inside the main building at the furthest area of the temple grounds, where your family lives. All the hallways are empty, and you see nobody on the way to your quarters. Your heart begins to beat faster as you approach your room, the sliding doors just an arm’s reach away. What are you doing here?
It is then the sliding door next to your room opens, slowly. You feel your throat clench, blocking the air to your lungs—Kiku emerges from the darkness, looking around her cautiously, and even though you’re right in front of her, she can’t seem to see you. Astounded, you follow behind her. Where could she be going, sneaking out in the dead of the night?
You don’t have to venture far. Kiku is swift but silent, tiptoeing to minimize the sound of her footsteps, and before you know it, you find yourself at the hallway leading to the temple’s stone courtyard.
The sight before you stops you in your tracks.
Kiku runs towards a man at the edge of the grounds, a familiar silhouette in the night. Once within arm’s reach, the man brings her into an embrace, and she willingly buries her face in his chest. He tips her chin up and leans down to kiss her, deep and hurried, and it only takes one second before Kiku brings her hands to his face. Their lips lock desperately, like they only have the night to be together, but they eventually part. The man takes her hand as the two of them rush towards the stairs leading to the village, disappearing out of your sight.  
I swear I love him! So much...
It is then the pressure on your forehead disappears—you don’t realize how warm your skin feels—and you open your eyes, once again finding yourself back in the room with Nobunaga. He has stopped chanting, quietly peering into your face out of concern masked with composure. You realize that he’s holding your hand now, and that you’re in a cold sweat again.
You stare at him.
At sundown, a fiery arrow shall come down from the sky and pierce the roof of the house in which this virgin dwells.
“Kiku—”
“She gave herself to the man she truly loved, even while knowing she cannot be with him.” He says, not letting go of your hand. It sounds like he is complimenting her. Meanwhile, you still feel trapped in the dream, all the memories of the next morning rushing back to you like a river runs.
Kiku has always been an early bird, but nobody ever considered that perhaps she didn’t sleep the night before.
“She really did love him,” you murmur.
“She still does,” Nobunaga tells you.
“But what does this have to do with teaching my father a lesson?”
“You should know that your sister and her lover is bound for each other,” he says, “like us.” You feel your heart jump at the addition. “Once fate decides, there is little man can do, though there are a few notable exceptions to this law. Your father, however, severed their relationship on the basis of his own arrogance.”
“Father thought the man’s social standing wasn’t up to par,” you add bitterly.
“He was clearly blindsided by the honor of his daughter becoming the bride,” Nobunaga continues, beginning to stroke your hand again, yet his words are unchangingly straightforward, “and again, he made the mistake of preferential treatment.”
“Did you arrange for this to happen?”
“I only plan what is necessary, and the whole commotion with your younger sister was not. If I had it my way, you would be here much earlier.” At this, he moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The way his face tenses up slightly tells you that his regret is sincere. “As a matter of fact, I believe this to be predetermined by fate.”
“How so?”
“It is your father who has repeatedly behaved out of pride. First, he cast away an honest man who loved your sister for poor prestige, and then he sent the wrong bride out of personal preference. A mistake it may be, but standing on selfishness nevertheless.” He proceeds to comb your locks, a gesture you absolutely don’t hate. Dare you say his moderately intimate touches are keeping you grounded. 
“Now,” he begins again, “I shall justify why I believe fate is punishing your father. He is an abbot of a temple who has the privilege to be in my presence once a year, and whose duty is to intercede for my worshippers, keeping them in my favor. At present, he has failed to perform perhaps my most important instruction yet, a mistake that is not at all a secret amongst the people. One would consider incompetent, would one not?”
“To err is human, my lord,” you reply, albeit conflicted. You’re not sure why you’re defending your father.
“His true err is in his idea of principality behind his actions. If he didn’t desire to see only one of his children succeed because the other doesn’t adhere to his narrow-minded standards of decorum, he would’ve sent you to me. A head priest should know that the established practice is always based on succession, in which you come first. As for your sister, no suspicion shall be cast upon her amidst the turbulence surrounding the head priest, and so she will remain protected from all judgement until he is reunited with her lover.”  
Kiku, happily together with the man she loves most! You can almost see her in that shiromuku again, this time with a groom next to her and a bright smile on her face. You become quiet, unable to admonish what he said, mostly because you long for it to be true—the part where Kiku is happy, at least. Instead you resort to another question.
“Is destiny punishing my father by discrediting him, then?”  
The corners of his lips are upturned and at that moment you realize how much the man in front of you knows. It could be that you’ve been in his presence for too long it makes you forget he is a god.
“Destiny’s punishment is by demotion.”
Your eyes widen. For the first time tonight, he is truly smiling at you.
“I have known your soul since I was a new god, and for that same amount of time, I have known you to be not only a wife, but a partner.”
“Partner?”
“My bride is predestined to also be a goddess.”
And she will dwell in the seiiki with him forever.
“As a human-turned-deity, you have the benefit of communicating with the people with no need for intercession and freedom to visit the mortal plane as you please. The head of the temple shall only rule over rituals of worship. We shall be known then as no longer two, but one.”
With you totally appalled, he takes the opportunity to lift you up by the waist and place you in his lap. 
“It is said by fate.”
You should still be in shock, but it’s as though your eyes have truly been opened, and every little second of your life has led you to this very moment. Everything makes sense. You remember the spark between your skin and his when they first brushed against each other, the palpitations of your heart when you entered the holy grounds. All of a sudden, the only thing you want to do is stay with him and never leave—it is unthinkable, for you would never want to escape from your very own sanctuary. He may have just offered you godliness in all its power, yet all you hear is an earnest proposal, to which there is only one answer. At that realization, you can’t help but smile—how are you supposed to reject when you can’t even think of the word ‘no’? 
He leans forward and presses the most tender kiss to your jaw. The touch of his lips is soft and unhurried, but it leaves a heated sensation on your skin. Then, nudging his nose against yours, he begins to speak. 
In nothing but a whisper, he calls your name, followed by the name of your mother, and your mother’s mother, and her mother before that. You sigh as he does, an unnatural shiver running up your spine. Everything about him emits warmth. It reminds you of the sensations you felt earlier when he lifted the enchantment off of the paper—you see flashes of your ancestor’s faces in your mind’s eye, only for them to comfortably slip like sand between your fingers, leaving only you and him in stillness.
He brings his hands up to cup your face, making you look straight at him. On his face is a mix of confidence and warmth.
“How would you like to rule the world at my side?”
You answer by gently kissing him on the lips, and the first rays of morning sun start to shine outside.
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stormyreadingsxx · 4 years
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Tarot Suits
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As an infophile (at least how my astrology chart describes me), I've found that I love sharing, consolidating, and using the information I've amassed in a strange life. Heavy on the Virgo and Gemini placements, it seems I've gathered a LOT of knowledge along the way (although how useful it is remains to be seen). It was a book that explained in depth to me what all the planets in our charts mean, their positions amongst each other, and how one Gemini sun Libra moon could completely differ from another with different house placements. The way Co--Star throws it all in our faces, sometimes too much data is overwhelming and does the opposite of informing any of us.
Sometimes, corroborating information is exactly what I need. Just like there are four elements that govern every astrological sign of the Zodiac (water, fire, earth, and air), there are four suits to be found in our Tarot decks. Wands, Cups, Pentacles, and Swords. Each one relates to a certain aspect in everyone's lives, bodies, spirits, and emotions. Like I am bound to my earthy, grounded, and stable nature, what the cards mean starts with their suit and number.
Each card number and court member have their own general themes and meanings. This is expanded on by whatever **suit **they fall in. People have a tendency to hope for the profound guidance of the Major Arcana cards when they get readings (like Death, The Sun, Judgement, etc...) to give them a sign and explain their next steps. But, given all the information that can be found in our Minor cards, they can turn out to be an astute and enlightening reading just the same.
Wands
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"Wands describe your spirit, motion, and action. When this suit comes up, it's time to do something!"
Think of the fire signs you know (if you know any). I'm a firm believer in needing all the pieces of our cosmic puzzle for it to start holding water, but in personal experience they are are exactly how one would think. Live-wires. Sometimes impulsive, maybe loud. Passionate. Never a dull moment, usually a fun time (people crave this energy or to let loose with them often). Usually saying exactly what was meant.
If you let a fire dominant person handle your deck before a reading, don't be too surprised if some Wands fall out (Pentacles and Swords drop for me constantly as a Virgo sun, moon, AND Gemini rising). Aries, Leos, Sagittarius all come to my mind in movement. They've made the decision, maybe the deliberation wasn't long outside of the moment. But they are always in action, and as someone who lacks this fiery initiative in my own makeup, I kind of love it (in an anxiety-inducing way).
Their energy and ways are often primal. It may not be so easy for you to express yourself at times, but for most of this suit it can be guaranteed. The suit of Wands is about inspiration, passion, strength, and determination. What drives you? What are you willing to do to go get it? These cards are all about what make you tick, but they can also point out the presence of illusions, tricks, and maybe self-deception. As can be expected, both sides of the spectrum lay waiting there.
This element is masculine, powerful, and in line with fiery Mars energy. Fire is hot, wild, unpredictable, and energetic. It can be creative in helping us to cook food or build tools, or it can be destructive, like a devastating bush fire or house fire.
“Should a Tarot reading be predominantly Wands cards, you can be sure that you are seeking solutions to issues that are based mainly in the realm of thought, or that are in the first stages of development.”
These cards are not limited only to people with flaming zodiac signs in the charts, rather they take a look at what motivates and energizes one’s soul.
Cups
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“Cups describe your emotions and relationships. When this suit comes up it’s time to listen to your intuition!”
If Wands were flames, then Cups are their equal and opposite reaction: water. Fire yields transformation, and water sure can too. But the feisty element was about action. Water-holding Cups are all about how we feel on the inside. How we process these emotions and go throughout our every day lives. Wands hold a distinctly masculine energy, but our friend water here brings a feminine power into play. Stable. Cleansing. Purifying.
Our emotional consciousness is very important, especially when it comes to relationships, feelings, and our connection to this world and everything at work. In movement and in flow, water is still something that creates power in a different way. A person in control and in the knowledge of their own feelings holds a quiet power, one that is often appreciated.
“Cups Tarot cards indicate that you are thinking with your heart rather than your head, and thus reflect your spontaneous responses and your habitual reactions to situations. Cups are also linked to creativity, romanticism, fantasy and imagination.“
If the deck is speaking to you in Cups cards, maybe you are seeking relief or resolution to interpersonal troubles. Perhaps expressing yourself or how you feel, or maybe a more love related matter. It is always important to pay attention to your deck’s tone for the day and what they have to say. Often times, cards may not sync up with your current situation but a situation a few weeks/months in the future.
Pentacles
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“Pentacles describes your material world, body, and finances. When this suit comes up, listen to your common sense!” 
Ah, ruling a large part of my personal domain, earth signs (and maybe Virgos in particular) can have a bit of a ‘loss’ mindset. ‘What do I need?’ ‘What can I do?’ My VIrgo is most often in the fourth house (of homes and family ties). I like to nest, hoard things that I or someone else may need in the future, and focus on having what I need. The Pentacles encompasses the tangible things in life. You don’t have to be materialistic to realize things, to a certain extent, matter.
Pentacles, like Cups, is a divinely feminine and responsible element. Are you prepared perfectly the night before a trip or do you wing it? Make plans out of the blue or prefer to hyper schedule instead? I can speak for my virginal sign when I say I am at my best and happiest when prepared and helping someone else be prepared. The Suit of Pentacles Tarot cards deal with the physical or external level of consciousness and thus mirror the outer situations of your  health, finances, work, and creativity. They have to do with what we make of our outer surroundings – how we create it, shape it, transform  it and grow it. On a more esoteric level, Pentacles are associated with  the ego, self-esteem and self-image.
To have a lot of these earth messages come to you, it means you’re grappling with extremely real obstacles and things in your way. Have confidence you can overcome them!
Swords
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“Describe your thoughts and state of mind. When this suit comes up, it’s time to make a plan and let go of worry!”
Swords I probably pull more than Pentacles for myself (which is interesting since as a Gemini rising I apparently present as an air sign, first not the neurotic earth sign I truly am). Who are we without our beliefs? For the death penalty? Against it? Abortion? Space travel? Our lives shape what we believe in and our stances for or against things. What we think and where we draw the line differentiates ourselves from another. Swords are all about the fine line between good, bad, and our own inner dialogues.
“Swords are often double-edged and in this way the Suit of Swords  symbolizes the fine balance between intellect and power and how these  two elements can be used for good or evil. As such, the Swords must be  balanced by spirit (Wands) and feeling (Cups) to have the most positive effect.“
If you find a deck speaking to you constantly in Swords, you may be fighting a mental battle (guilty LMFAO). Struggling with decisions you can’t bear to make or maybe arguing against your own nature, Swords may ask you to wrangle the ego inside of yourself to BE your best self. Taking action is important and necessary, but remember that each action has a consequence. Likely good and bad ones.
When I get Swords, I try to stop and think what they could be about.
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wackygoofball · 5 years
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Moodboard: Jaime x Brienne - Erin Brockovich AU
To send this ahead... I know that Brienne’s character is much different from that of Erin in the movie, but by giving some over to Jaime and twisting and shredding things, I found it a very intriguing plot bunny! :D
Brienne doesn’t have it easy lately. Just recently she had to move into a new, shabby house on the outer outskirt of King’s Landing. She can no longer afford her old apartment in King’s Landing after she was fired from her secretary job because she had to take off to take care for her foster children Arya and Sansa and the boss showed little understanding for a single parent taking care of two traumatized girls. And now she stands there with bills to pay and no one willing to hire her.
Sometimes she really wished Catelyn had chosen any other person to take care of her girls in case of her demise, but as things stand, there was no other way. Bran and Rickon are with Osha and Luwin whereas Jon could not possibly take care of his siblings as he was drafted for service at the Wall. Brienne wants to honor that vow since Cat helped her a great deal in the past, but she feels all the more like failing as she cannot provide for the girls what they would deserve after the losses they had to suffer: their parents, oldest brother, his wife, and their home in Winterfell.
However, Brienne won’t let this stop her, so she goes through advertisements and calls any office offering jobs in the hope to find something new. She applies for a job as a secretary in Tyrion Lannister’s law firm, a small thing that mostly runs itself as far as she can judge. Brienne is little impressed when she meets the boss, because Tyrion Lannister does not strike her as a passionate lawyer. Instead, he spends his time looking after women to check them out and drink from his flask hidden under the table.
Brienne applies not as “Brienne of Tarth” but “Brienne of Morne,” her mother’s maiden name. She would rather not, but whenever she applied for jobs she was linked to her father’s ruined company and her failure to ever become a top lawyer due to personal choices she made in the past. She applied for jobs in law firms as a lawyer again and again because she went to the best schools, had excellent grades, but her past continues to haunt her. She is either overqualified, they tell her, or she doesn't have enough courtroom experience, or they think she is a failure because her father's firm went downhill without her being able to stop it. Thus, she writes applications below her profile, leaves out most of her personal past and just hopes to finally get a steady job to provide for Sansa and Arya. She is desperate.
Tyrion is hesitant at first, arguing that he normally looks for "prettier" secretaries, but he has to give in eventually because Brienne won't budge and proves that she can do the job better than any of the other applicants.   Sansa and Arya give her trouble too, Arya gets into fights at school whereas Sansa won’t stick to Brienne’s rules, stay out late and leave her guessing to where the girl is headed.
So no, things are not easy on Brienne, but she won’t let that wear her down as she, at the very least, finally got a job at the law firm to cover the costs. She works her ass off at the office until she stumbles over what seems to be a small case involving selling property to a big chemical industry called The Alchemists' Guild, a business that focused on wildfire and its derivatives. They want to buy properties close to their plant on the outskirt of King's Landing, in a very poor area not that different from the one where Brienne now lives with her girls.
Brienne asks Tyrion if she can look into the case, after all, she can tell something is odd with the numbers due to her experiences she did not list for her application. He handwaves her proposal, much more concerned with his pretty new “intern” Shae.
Fueled by her wish to finally do something close to her past in the law, Brienne heads down the dusty roads to meet the people The Alchemists' Guild wants to purchase the properties from. While most won’t speak to her at first as Brienne doesn't think she has it in her to make people listen to her, the young woman is surprised when people start to tell their stories. Sooner rather than later, they trust her because she listens to them and gives them the facts rather than what they call “lawyer talk”. Brienne continues to gather information, doing what she is accustomed to as a former lawyer: she talks to experts, puts together evidence, and essentially starts to build a case she has any intention to present to Tyrion once she made certain that she is onto something.  
Back home, things don't look as bright, however. Her nanny quits on a whim, leaving Brienne with no one to pick up the girls, make them dinner and the like until she gets home. It gets so bad that one day, the woman she hired to look after Sansa and Arya just doesn't show up and leaves the girls to walk home all by themselves. She is in a panic until she finds them with the recently moved-in and to her mind totally annoying one-handed biker-wannabe Jaime. He has barbecue with them and particularly Arya seems to like the guy who insists on only being referred to by his first name. Ever since he said he took fencing lessons in his youth and would have no trouble teaching her the basics, the girl is sold on the wannabe-biker. Jaime and she thus suggest to Brienne that she should hire him as the new nanny.
Brienne doesn’t know what to do with all this because a man looking like this, acting like this, making lewd comments all the while supposedly being good with teenage girls? How does that fit? The two eventually agree that he gets a shot at taking care of the girls in exchange for a bit of extra money. Jaime says he can use it because with just one hand, working on the construction sites became difficult and the gigs are scarcer around this season.
And so, a truce is born.
Brienne continues her investigation and puts in all of her efforts as she grows increasingly aware of the sheer importance this case has to the people involved. She starts to piece together that the The Alchemists' Guild tries to cover up literal dirty business, relating to people around the area getting sick in large numbers and their usage of wildfire. Brienne suspects a pattern behind this and figures that there must be a connection between the water supply for the town and the plant.
Thus, Brienne wants to request the records to obtain copies. However, the lady sitting at the front desk of the archive won’t let her in. Brienne suspects that she is in cahoots together with The Alchemists' Guild. Brienne fails to charm her way into the archives, that’s never been her strong suit, which is why she heads back to the house feeling like an utter failure.
Back home, she sees that Sansa and Arya really take a liking to Jaime, who runs the house just fine, if a bit unconventionally. When Jaime sees Brienne drag herself into the house, looking like someone just took her favorite medieval sword fighting film away, he wants to know what's wrong with her. She won’t admit at first, after all, Brienne hates to show weakness, but Jaime won’t budge and continues to poke her for information until she gives in and admits that she failed today.
“The downsides of being as ugly as a mare: I can't charm my way into the archive,” Brienne sighs.
“You can be charming in your own way if you try.”
“Shut up. And anyway, it's a lady.”
“Doesn't mean you could not put on a flirty face. Maybe she's looking for a bit of an adventure after all. I don’t judge.”
She rolls her eyes. “I never should have told you.”
“Fine, fine, I stop. I stop,” he laughs. “But I may have a solution.”
“Which is?”
Jaime points at himself with a smug grin. “Me.”
“You are the solution how? No offense, but you don't inspire... confidence in your legal status, shall I say?” Brienne scoffs.
“You said it. It's about flirting. And I am really good at that.”
“Are you? I did not notice.”
“Because I have no intention of flirting with you. I am your employee after all. If you properly compensate me, though, I can do expand my services, only just for you, wench.”
“Compensate you.”
“Well, you will have to give me a bit of a starter to set things up. For that, you get all the copies you want so desperately.”
“You are supposed to take care of Sansa and Arya. That’s what the truce is about, remember?”
“And they will be gone for a whole week for that school trip, remember?”
“... I forgot.” Brienne grimaces. It rubs her in the wrong way that Jaime already handles things so well that she finds herself forgetting things she wouldn’t have, but the job consumes so much of her time that she doesn’t know what to do with herself.
“Thought so,” Jaime chuckles. “So I got nothing to do anyway. Give me fifty stags and I will get you those copies tomorrow after we dropped the girls off. Deal?”
“... What's the worst that can happen, huh?”
Brienne is to find out the next day, remaining rather irritated by Jaime’s cryptic messages who says he will meet her outside the archive and that she is supposed to wait for the “big show.” She doesn't know what to expect until a very suave looking Jaime walks up to her, dressed in nice clothes, his hair in a neat bun, beard trimmed, stump securely hidden away in his fancy jacket, looking nothing like the biker she got to know and yelled at the first time she met him.
Jaime is having his dear fun at Brienne’s ogling at him before proceeding inside and charming the lady into giving him access to the archives. Jaime pretends to be an “intern” working for some “nasty lady” who only ever treats him badly.
“She yells at me and only ever bosses me around. Can you imagine?”
“Oh, trust me, I can.”
Brienne is bound to wait until Jaime re-emerges with the promised copies, looking like he just won the lottery. Brienne almost feels tempted to hug him, but just almost. Jaime is feeling pretty ecstatic at her blushing and evidently checking him out. He tells Brienne she can request his services again any time she needs it.
“Though next time, you may have to take me out for dinner afterwards.”
“… We’ll have to see about that.”
Brienne finally feels a bit vindication when she comes to the office, ready to present her findings to Tyrion, but that hope is instantly crushed when she finds her desk cleaned, stuffed into a box, and the other employees looking at her with nothing but misgiving. When she demands to know what is going on, Tyrion calls her to his office to inform her that he can’t keep a secretary who doesn’t come to work, seemingly having forgotten that she told him she wanted to investigate this case, and to top it all, he does not appreciate that she lied about her identity. He reveals to her that he did some research on his own and figured out that she is actually the “infamous” Brienne of Tarth.
Brienne is enraged because he dug through her past without her consent, looking at what she tried to bury, all of that pain that cost her so very much, not just the family company, not just her reputation as a lawyer, but also her father who died shortly after he had to file for bankruptcy due to business partners making bad investments on his behalf. She storms out of the building, furious but also desperate because she just lost her source of income.
Back home, Jaime is fixing things around the house to the best of his abilities. Brienne loses her cool a last because she can't afford to pay him anymore, she can't do anything right.
“Everything I touch, it just breaks apart.”
She confesses to Jaime at last what went on in her past, tells him all about her father’s failing business, how her father didn’t involve her in the business until it was too late because he wanted to give her the freedom to follow her personal mission of defending those people in court who couldn’t defend themselves. She tells Jaime all about her father’s death, and how that left her with massive debts to pay, but despite her experience and education, she was forced into taking small jobs, hide herself, because she never made more out of herself when she still could.
“And now I am not just failing myself, I am failing Sansa and Arya. Seven Hells, I am even failing you. I am failing everyone!”
To her great shock, she finds herself in the arms of the man she has a truce with. Jaime comforts her and holds her close when her world is on the verge of falling apart. And for the first time in a long time, she simply lets go, allows herself to accept that comfort, to let someone else hold her when she is so used to keeping it together for others.
Jaime trusts her with some of his past at last, something she never demanded of him to know, how he lost his hand during his time in the military and returned a war veteran with trauma but no family to support him when it mattered. His father just wanted him to join the family company and his sister could not care less about him as she was too absorbed into her own affairs. Even his little brother, who used to look up to him, wasn’t there for him when it mattered. Jaime only ever found joy in riding his motorbike and eventually he was so fed up with the family that he could not take it anymore and simply started to drive, never looking back.
One thing leads to another and the two fall into each other’s arms and into the bed. And for a time, things seem fine again, however broken, because Jaime is all the things Brienne wouldn’t have thought him to be when they first met. He is soft and caring as well as witty and snarky. And Jaime finds that with Brienne, he can finally talk to someone who understands, who bothers to listen, who doesn’t look at him as a lesser man for the choices he made, for the hand he lost and the lifestyle he chose for himself. For the first time in a long time, neither one feels alone in this world.
Sometime later, Jaime takes the girls out for something fun to do so that Brienne has the house to herself and can make some phone calls to find a new job. Brienne is surprised when shortly thereafter, Tyrion winds up on her doorsteps. He says he read her report and finally understood that he was being “kind of a cock” for thinking she was taking time off without telling him and was indeed working this whole time as she had insisted.
“I just thought you were lying,” he admits.
“I don't, not when it comes to those things.”
“You lied about your name.”
“I put in my mother's name because whenever I applied with my own, no one would give me a chance. And I find that kind of unfair, wouldn’t you agree?”
“It is... So, can I come inside?”
“Under the condition that I will throw you out the moment on I am fed up.”
“I suppose I will have to agree to those terms, Miss Tarth.”
Tyrion and she sit down for a long overdue conversation about the case. Tyrion lets her know that he is now convinced that she is onto something big. He wants to work the case, with her, and have a look at the research she gathered but did not include in the report she left at the office before storming out.
Brienne, remembering Jaime's words about how she has to see more worth in herself, demands not just her job back, but to be accepted as who she is and what she is, lawyer Brienne of Tarth. And a raise. Tyrion likes the change of tone and agrees, telling her that he found a replacement anyway, in Shae.
“She does not know how to file reports, but she is good at making coffee.”
“I suppose that's not the only thing you see as being of merit.”
“Far from it.”
“Be it as it may... I have one more condition.”
“Which is?” he wants to know.
“If we go to court with this, if we really work this case, you will cut down on your alcohol consumption. I won't have a partner in on this case who sleeps under the office desk. The people I talked to, they matter to me, their lives depend on our success, and I won’t let someone in on the case who isn’t a hundred percent committed to the cause.”
“I am a very highly functioning alcoholic.”
“Cut it down or cut me out. Your choice.”
“You learn fast.”
“I may have a good teacher, though he still has to prove himself.”
Tyrion asks her to have another look at the archives because there must be more to what she currently has. Brienne says that she will have to ask her “friend” to do that, letting him know that she had no luck whereas her friend did. Tyrion is amused by the arrangement and jokes about how that sounds more like this “friend” is to her what Shae is to him. Tyrion suggests to her that he should meet that guy as well, to instruct him on what to look for. He has a greater knowledge regarding those matters than Brienne happens to have because he worked similar cases before. Brienne agrees to the arrangement.
That is the moment Jaime returns with the girls. Brienne tells him about the good news, only for him to go completely blank when he sees Tyrion and Tyrion sees him. Brienne doesn't know what's happening until both drop the bombshell that Jaime is Jaime Lannister and that this is his brother. Brienne never mentioned the name of the law firm to Jaime because he said he did not care.
As it turns out that the brothers were estranged after Tyrion took off to Essos to work for Daenerys Targaryen as a legal advisor when Jaime would have needed him most after the loss of his hand. When he made the cut away from Cersei and Tywin, Jaime thought Tyrion would stand by his side, but he did not. Instead, Tyrion rather kept out of the affairs and hid away in Essos. Jaime never forgave him that and broke with him the same way he did with the rest of the Lannister clan.
Jaime leaves the house in a hurry, unable to deal with his brother and his past catching up to him. Brienne goes after him and comforts him, to “return the favor.” While she won't ask him to go back to the archive and thus help his brother, Jaime says he will do it because he's seen what wildfire can do in the warzone under Aerys in particular, and he could not live with himself if he let people get away with using it.
“Just don't expect me to make peace with my brother.”
“I don't.”
“Then the truce remains intact.”
The work continues and the three work on their parts of the case. Brienne keeps gathering evidence and interviews to connect the dots, Tyrion preps up the battle tactic alongside her and gets back into his old game as the stellar figure he used to be in court despite his height, and Jaime ventures through the archives and on occasion charms his way into the hearts of the locals they have to interview when Brienne can't seem to get through to them.
However, big trouble is on the way and one set-back hunts the next. Running out of money, subtleties from the team of lawyers they are up against, files disappearing, threats, and unknown phone calls are only some of the problems they are facing.
The investigation starts to take its toll on Jaime’s and Brienne’s burgeoning relationship. Jaime doesn’t know whether he can commit to this kind of life he slipped into, after he embraced a life without strings attached for so very long. Brienne, for her part, can’t slow down and dedicates almost all of her time to he work. She would love to spend more time with Arya and Sansa, but she has a responsibility towards those people, she made a promise and has to keep it, has to, has to, has to. However, she also struggles with her feelings for Jaime because she doesn’t want to hold him back, well aware that he is still coming to terms with his PTSD he suffered in the war. She doesn’t want to burden him and doesn’t feel like she can make him stay. After all, she is not flirty, is not charming, and bad luck just keeps sticking to her flat heels.
And all of that happens in the midst of a legal war about to begin between The Alchemists' Guild and Brienne and her team.
But will they win?
Will justice win?
And what may be the costs of that battle?
Only time will show.
Additional Image Source: Erin Brockovich (2000).
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gg-astrology · 5 years
Note
hi! so my jupiter is in leo 4th house. it's stationary (D) i've never related to the descriptions like AT ALL. how could it be stationary effect this.
Hello!!! ❤️💙💕❤️💙💕❤️💙💕 I’ve been meaning to answer this for a while but I had to figure out how to start talking about it bc I haven’t talked about stationary planets before, so I might use this as an opportunity to do a small intro for everyone else as well?? If that’s ok??❤️💙💕
Stationary, Direct, Retrograde - Planetary Motions, Beginner Friendly? ⬇️
🚫long post🚫
Primary and Secondary Motions 
Most people would already know what a retrograde is, since ‘mercury retrograde’ hype is what drew mainstream media into astrology. 
I’ve described it on my blog as a planet doing a backflip, but if we actually think about it - before it can do that kickass flip - it has to be station so it gets a good lift off and landing, right?
Planetary motion is a thing - there’s primary motion and secondary motion. 
First, let’s explain the primary motion. Say we know the earth spins once every 24 hours. Once every day. We know this because we get hours of daylight aka. we’re facing the sun (close or directly facing it as we spin - sorry, those who live in the polar nights and midnight suns ;;) and periods of darkness aka. when we’re not on the side of the sun, but other continents are having their daylight time. That’s from our earth’s perspective.
Along with that, we get stars and planets in our skies. The primary motion is the apparent rising, path, and setting of the planet from our earth perspective. If we were to snap a certain time period of it - at a certain place, to the exact minutes and second, it would be our chart. 
That’s the path of the planets in relation to us. We can see the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, etc. But no earth - because we’re looking at it from earth (we’re earth). We’re earth-bound. And this is our sky chart (chart of our sky, at the time we select/use for the chart. At the certain place in relation to us.)
There’s more signification to these motions in other techniques and methods - but we’re not getting to that today. ( link | link )  
So, primary motion explained. What’s secondary motion?
Ok so earth example. We know we spin, it’s how we get night/day (in relation to the sun) - but we also know we have to orbit around the Sun. That’s 365 days. Two motions - easy to get right? 
What does it mean for other planets? Well, Secondary motion is how we track other planet’s progress/direction. This is where stationary comes in.
Stationary planet - is when a planet is motionless in it’s path (no apparent motion) - usually occurs when it’s about to go into retrograde or it’s leaving one to go direct. 
Since we’re talking about orbits instead of spin - consider how Mercury orbits the sun every 88 days. That’s so much faster than us!! We’re not tracking how many time it spins - we’re checking in on Mercury to see how it’s doing so far in it’s orbit (in relation to us and it’s own progress) in the way we can - which is against the zodiac belt. 
If one day you see Mercury (from our perspective) just stay in Scorpio for like, a day - you might be concerned and ask ‘?? buddy why did you pause??’ - it’s because Mercury is about to do a cool backflip, or maybe it’s already done one, but it has to get ready (‘station’) first in order to do it’s motion.
What’s stationary? 
So you can think of stationary as - well, being motionless. In the secondary movement. It’s a significant time that changes should be focused on (when this happens during transits aka. every time we’re S.R and about to go into rx and when we’re S.D to go direct again) is that the S.D period (what you’re talking about) is gathering in strength point. 
If we’re looking at this in transit, it’s also Prime Time to focus our energy into fueling what it is the placement, house and planet/sign is focused on. The reason/explanation for this is that it’s slowing in motion/motionless, it’s energy is concentrated/focused in one significant area (house/context/planets in activation about to go through pivotal motion). Where it lands in your house, placement, signs - that’s where we should read and learn where the energy is intense/collected. 
This is possibly why people say stationary movement is an interesting period - because this is when changes actually occur. Larger planets have larger influences on worldly, bigger things- personally planets can affect us directly. With larger (outer planets) these don’t affect personality as much but when it’s stationary - it’s making connection to the Sun (it trines the sun) and thus, there’s a personal connection to us through external factors or external means.  
Stationary Retrograde (about to go into retrograde, S.R.) and Stationary Direct (about to go into direct, S.D) rather than being completely 'ughhh’ emoji like how we usually talk about retrogradation - we see stationary period as an opportunity to exert and fuel our energy into the topic/subject of the house and placement that is relevant - it could be good to us. There’s a belief that S.R is when it’s weakening and S.D is when strength is gathering. That’s possibly why we do so much prep prior to and after rx motion - hopefully, because we know these periods (shadow periods) also tend to affect us. 
Outer planets (so very very slow) that are about to change motions are also trine to the Sun. That’s usually when you can tell whether or not an outer planet is about to go S.R or S.D - is more significant because it’s in relation to our core, our Sun, our direct self (astrology wise). Rather than say - oh it’s a description by itself. It’s more useful to define it via personal aspect to what is relevant to us. 
For the natal stationary person 
All of this talk, what does it mean??? So to actually answer your question about stationary planets - it has to do with evaluating it’s aspect to the Sun.
Everything we’ve talked about at this point - has been about our and other planet’s relation to our center - the fizzing ball of Large Fire. Because that’s where it’s actually significant, and what we can actually think about and concentrate on.
To actually answer your question anon; you asked why you don’t relate to your Leo Jupiter in 4th, and if it being S.D makes a difference? If we look at stationary interpretations - in a broad sense, most would consider it an accidental debility. The explanation for this, is the planet itself is powerful - especially during a gathering time period. However, the person’s ability (or inability) to realize and use it’s potential makes it a debility because they let it go to waste (trine to sun).
Debility is a weakness (as opposed to dignity which is it’s strength). To clarify, some people describe this as stationary being a ‘stand still’ - and thus, without moving (which is what planets are supposed to do) - a deadlock is formed and things are hard to produce, act, or displayed. 
Certain elements of the person (i.e. what is trine) is in the essence of the person themselves. This can give them significant boost or concentration in said area (like what we said about planets being stationary in transit, above) - but it might not actually be noticeable to the person (as with most case of trine). This is particularly significant - because we’re talking about a non-personal planet here.  
Jupiter isn’t a personal planet, it may be close to you, but it isn’t your personal object. It’s your guidance and teacher, perhaps wisdom and knowledge. These we can’t control but is influenced by regardless. 
It can also be a part of our essence, but do we have control of who we are, or how we’re hard-wired right into our system when it’s so intertwined with our character/how we just do things? That’s why trine aspects are hard to control and use, especially if it’s stationed in a deadlock period, and is an outer/social planet like this as well (larger influence, a little more impersonal than personal planets i.e. mercury, mars, natal venus s.r or s.d.)  
This isn’t personal, but others will see it and perhaps not you. We can’t actually control this, but the thing we can do is to try looking at it’s aspect to the Sun, and also keep in mind that to the person themselves - you are referring to a planet (and it’s aspect, that trine) that you can’t control. I’ve heard that other stationary natives may also experience the same.
Also keep in mind - the period you are born is a significant key activation. Jupiter being motionless and about to get back into being direct again signifies changes, and preparation for said changes. Those with stationary planet in their natal usually goes through significant pivots in their life during S.D or S.R periods as well - so look out for it. 
So. To answer your ask: Yes, being stationary direct has significations (maybe not as much or as positively as you might think) - but that explains why this Leo Jupiter becomes a debility to the person themselves. And how trine aspect to the Sun can be interpreted (w/ motions like this) this way as well. 
More if you want to learn:
To find out (for others) if you have an S.R. or S.D planet (I won’t take anymore questions for personal placement being in these motion and what it means bc oof im tired) - if you use astro.com, click ‘additional tables’ and it’ll show you if you have anything in S.R or S.D in your chart. 
Second helpful tip: 
Why do planets seems to go into retrograde or do a backflip?? Here’s an answer (and video) that I’ve already talked about that explains the topic.  
Third, and last, helpful tip: 
Here’s some resources and links on the topic, hopefully this will answer your question anon! If i haven’t helped you in anyway ;; I hope at least it’ll give you some insights and for anyone else as well:
TheRealAstrology - Stationary Planet
StationaryPlanet - This is vedic, but might be fun to read (esp. the note about having potential and not letting it go to waste)
Quora - ‘What does it mean when a planet is stationary in a natal chart?’  -  second answer is the best one, please check out the quote as well!
Quora (again) - ‘What does stationary Jupiter in natal chart mean?’ - this one is a good explanation of motions, and why it’s relevant to the conversation. As well as a good explanation of why trines are so hard to get under control. I hope this helps! 
Other general resources available about the topic:
Astrology.com - Rx and Stationary Explained 
Pandora astrology - Jupiter station and rx 
Power of Planetary Station - examples of public figure chart/events and world events during certain planetary motion period
Retrograde Planets: Transversing the Inner Landscape by Erin Sullivan (book) - has examples of sun-trine combination along with S.R or S.D and how it affects people personally. 
Astrologyweekly - looking at terms related to the motions of planets
I can’t believe i’m so drained gathering all this info in one place, but I hope this answers your question and help others who want to learn more/was curious about this as well. Thanks for asking!! I hope this helps!! 
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btsareyandere · 5 years
Text
Lucky
Yandere Jin 
'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!' You repeat to yourself, your bare feet slapping against the oak flooring of the hallway you race along.
The bathroom door swings open and lands against the wall with a thud.
Rushing to the sink you begin washing the soles of your feet knowing you don't have time for a shower. The spit in your mouth is becoming thick and hard to swallow as time ticks by and your anxiety worsens, 'God, he's going to kill me.' You half cry whilst you scrub at all the dirt you can see. The mess seems to be getting bigger the more you clean yourself, brown water is settling on the white countertop, tufts of grass are littering the tiles and a quick glance in the mirror brings the state of your hair to your attention.
"Y/N! Come here please". The voice of your husband carrying up the stairs stills your body. For a second you wonder if hiding is the best option, maybe if you keep them waiting long enough he'll be forced to deal with you later.
'No' you whisper because of course, Jin would never back down and even if, by some miracle he did, the price you'd pay later would be more than you could afford.
Having made a decision, you try to dry yourself with toilet roll, something you can flush and hide the evidence of, before combing your fingers through your hair and walking to the stairs.
"Y/n!" He shouts louder this time. "I'm waiting, you know I don't wait". The length of your stride widens to get you there faster and when you do, Jin and two important looking men were stood looking at you.
When jin sees the state of you, barefoot, muddy and inappropriately clothed in a thin summer dress, his eyes narrow and darken.
Your mind thinks back to his comment when he kissed your head this morning when he left for work..'two of my best acquaintances are coming round tonight. Be sure to look presentable and clean, they have standards y/n and I won't have you show me up. I know how well behaved and beautiful you are, let's let them see it too'. Yeah, you went and fucked up.
In your defence, the grass cutters came in the late afternoon to begin mowing the acres of land that Jin's mansion backs onto and through pure boredom and loneliness, you snuck out to talk with them. Talking turned to laughing, laughing turned into you making them drinks and eventually with you playing like a child in the cut grass.
Jin never said you couldn't go out today.
Jin's fingers snapping together made you focus on him once again, his hand was pointed at the bottom step angrily. "Come here, right now!"
Meekly, you tiptoe down to stand in front of him, being one step up made you eye level with him.
"Tell me why you look like you do".
He demands.
Before you even open your mouth, you can feel the words getting stuck in your throat, fighting for space when so many of them are trying to jump out and argue your innocence.
You gulp quickly as you glance at the men behind him, they look just as ashamed as Jin does. "I um, I was reading a magazine and they...erm, it's a new fashion, like a style. It was...you know my favourite actress, yeah so she..on the catwalk, in um Hollywood maybe. Um...yeah..." your shoulders drop at the realisation that you've just fucked up, even more, you've never been a good liar but this was embarrassing even for you.
"Y/n" he growled, fists tightening at his side "don't you dare lie to me. I swear, it will be the last lie you come up with".
Your eyes start to burn as salty tears build up, ready to fall at any moment. "I'm sorry. Jin I'm sorry, I can go change". The power behind jins silent stare is unimaginable and has you punishing yourself before he can even touch you. Your nails dig painfully into your palms as you bang them against your outer thighs. Since being with jin, you have developed certain habits that he hates and tries to condition out of you. He's managed to get them down to almost nothing but even this tiny outlet of built-up stress and fear still annoys him. "Stop hitting yourself, that's my job" he swats at your arm to stop you.
"Please jin, I'll change super quick" you beg.
"There isn't time. This.." he pauses his sentence to pull at your flowy white dress, causing you to stumble into him. "This isn't something that can be fixed quickly. Did I or did I not, tell you I was expecting company and you weren't under any circumstances to show me up?" You don't get a chance to reply before he shouts once again "I did y/n! I gave you clear instructions and you chose to disobey me and now you've shown this side of yourself to two complete strangers." Spit is hitting you in the face as he yells but you don't dare to look away or wipe it.
With a trembling chin and eyes big enough to hold an ocean of tears, you beg him to forgive you. "I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. I lost track of time, please don't hurt me Jin". The men behind him had moved to flank him and watch as jin tears strips off of you in front of them.
"Hurt you? You think I'm going to hurt you? Is that the kind of man I am now? Someone who beats his wife." Well from your experience, yes, yes he is the type of man he just angrily described.
To avoid getting yourself into further trouble, you simply shake your head and grip his shirt to make yourself seem as pathetic as possible and hopefully gain some sympathy.
He sighs and grips one of your wrists painfully tight, turning both of you round to face his friends. "Gentlemen, as you have probably guessed, this is my wife. I can assure you she usually acts better than this, her training has been...extensive shall we say". They all laugh in understanding and look down at you like a child that's made a comical mistake.
"Don't worry too much Jin. Sometimes my wife is the same, bless them, they try but often forget simple rules." The taller man says.
"Yeah, it's the same with mine. You should consider yourself lucky, little lady. Not all men are as understanding as your husband." He reaches out and ruffles your hair to which you feel Jin react and squeeze your wrist tighter. He never did like it when people touched you.
"Hurry and apologise" jin spits at you.
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." You said more to jin than to them but they all accepted it.
"Come on then, let's go to the living room and I'll have the maids bring us something to drink". Jin gestured for the men to head towards the room on the far left and followed them, dragging you along without letting you know if you're welcome or not.
Once he has watched his friends seat themselves, jin takes up position in his own armchair, releasing your wrist and allowing the blood to start flowing to your hand again.
He straightens his suit out before once again clicking his fingers, "stand here. Right here" you shuffle closer and closer to the side of his seat before he motions for you to stop, "you're too filthy for my furniture, you'll stand in silence. Do you understand?"
You nod your head like last time but this time it's not enough. He reaches back and slaps behind your knees firmly, causing you to release a gasp. "Answer me when I'm talking to you".
"Y-yes jin, I understand you." You whisper.
"She's cute" one of them praises.
"Yeah, she tries." Jin sluggishly replies.
The evening drags on and they make it through several bottles of wine..each. Jin, however, sticks to his usual two glasses and watches amused as his friend's tongues get looser and looser. "...And so the other day I bought her some new underwear and told her she can only wear those around the house" they all three burst into hysterics but to you, it wasn't funny. It hurt you to know that more women were living like you and with men that seemed even worse than jin. Maybe jin was better than them.
Several more degrading and sexist comments had you lose control over yourself and you tut quietly as you roll your eyes simply for your own benefit.
"Excuse you," jin says without looking at you.
You bite down on your lip and pretend he wasn't talking to you, something that didn't last long when his hand grips the back of your hair and pulls you down to his eye level, over the arm of the chair.
"Do you not think you're in enough trouble as it is?"
You use one hand to hold yourself up while the other one hovers by your head, wanting to force him to let you go but too afraid to do it.
"I-i" you begin when he cuts you off.
"I-i" he mocks. "You're a stuttering mess y/n. Just don't say anything unless I tell you to. How can you be so dumb all the time?" Thick tears are now dropping from your eyes to his shirt and he notices. He pushes you down to the floor at his feet and holds you there, "Everything you do makes a mess. The floor is the only place you won't ruin anything." His temper was flaring and despite their level of drunkenness, his friends were feeling it's their time to leave.
"Well, it looks like you have some things to work out jin. We'll be going now". They both stand to say their final goodbyes when Jin finally looks away from you. "I'm sorry you had to see this." He says as he points at you.
His friend smiles knowingly and attempts to reassure him. "Honesty it's okay. I find they get a bit more disobedient when they're on their period. It's not their fault really I suppose".
Jin looks at you again "are you bleeding?" You feel your cheeks burn impossibly hot as they continue to dehumanised and belittle you.
All you can do is shake your head and silently plead for Jin to take you from this situation.
"Hmp," He says almost as if he were perplexed about the reasoning behind your bad behaviour.
You glance up at the men with jins hand still in your hair.
The other one gazes down at you with a lustful smile "You're a very lucky man Jin." You watch as his tongue slips across his chapped lips and it repulses you. You cower backwards slightly, resting between jins legs. When he notices your behaviour Jin smiles inwardly, he knows that no matter how he treats you, you're bound to him forever.
"I know." Jin snaps at his friend. "Y/n, go upstairs and wait on all fours for me. There's no way you're getting away with this kind of behaviour. I'll have the maid run you a hot bath after, you won't be sitting down for a while. Go now!"
You quickly spring to your still slightly muddy feet and race to your room to fulfil his demands and this time you won't be late.
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@jinnenchimchim @v-2bucky @aria101404
Not proofread.
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born-of-dusk · 5 years
Text
Komorebi or: Those Who Love Shadows
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Characters: Vanitas, Arika (OC)
Summary: The New Replica Program aims to give some of the former Seekers of Darkness a new lease on life, a chance to atone and be their own selves separate from their fate bound by the late Master Xehanort. Vanitas has a hard time adjusting to life without a purpose, and it’s up to one tough cat lady from another world to show him the way.
Word count: ~2,800
A/N: this is literally my first fanfic ever and this happened because i really wanted this edgy boy to have a mom. you are getting redeemed damnit.
Vanitas was brooding around a shady tree in the outer gardens when a distant commotion caught his attention. Normally, he could tune out idle chatter and background noise easily but the voices he heard were just a little too familiar. He spared a passing glance from behind a flower hedge and recognized the taller guy with blue hair from their time as the Seekers of Darkness. He and the one with red hair were blathering about some nonsense with Xion and three other kids he didn’t recognize. Whatever. They looked like they were just standing around waiting for something or someone. Vanitas turned his attention back to the flickering specks of filtered sunlight that danced along his armored legs in time with the fluttering leaves above, just killing time until he had to go meet a certain strange lady. 
Arika had taken it upon herself to try and “help” him and the other former Seekers for some reason when they were given second (third?) chances at life in the form of the New Replica Program. ‘I sympathize with all who feel lost, who have been toyed with by fate, who struggle with themselves,’ she said. Whatever, lady, you can do what you want as long as I still get free food and a room to myself. Since the moment of his “birth” the boy had only known one truth: he was created to clash with his other half, forge the χ-blade, and bring about a second Keyblade War. This was his one and only purpose and failing to accomplish this goal would not be tolerated. The old coot, Xehanort, saw to establishing that quickly as well as frequently. And this whole new existence without a clear goal to chase and being around people who didn’t see him as a means to an end was...he didn’t like to think too hard about it. 
After a few minutes he got up to stretch before heading out when he heard the gaggle of friends perk up at their final missing member arriving with his arms full of that blue ice cream everyone seemed to like. It was…Ventus? Ventus was here in Radiant Garden right now? No, that wasn’t right. Same face, same sort of getup, but that wasn’t his brother there apologizing and laughing like a huge loser. It was the other one, that Roxas kid. Just seeing him was enough to sour his mood, but seeing him with his massive group of friends? That was enough to spawn an Unversed or two somewhere in the worlds in an instant. He tried to shrug it off, then he wanted to mock them or slap that stupid ice cream out of Ven-- Roxas’s hands and onto the ground. Anything to dampen that happy atmosphere, but he didn’t. Instead he tried to divert his negative thoughts elsewhere but that stupid smiling face was already burned into his mind. And then those awful thoughts went towards that slippery slope he always seemed to come back to: 
Ventus doesn’t need me. Master Xehanort isn’t around anymore so now there’s no use for me, no purpose to exist. Darkness is all I am and all I’ll ever be. A being of pure darkness in a world of light. What am I even doing here?
That caused a dull blooming pain in the back of his head that surely must’ve heralded another Unversed somewhere, and not a scrawny Flood or Scrapper either. He didn’t raise a hand to soothe the ache and instead let it run its course. That would be a sign of weakness, after all. Right about now he was supposed to be training with his…master? Caretaker? Whatever that lady was to him he still wasn’t sure. She’d offered to spar with him once or twice then to train him from the ground up in a more cohesive style. Something about sound bodies yielding sounds minds or some such drivel. This week she was supposed to help him practice parrying attacks with his keyblade after stressing the importance of defensive maneuvers in addition to the devastating offensive ones that he was more inclined towards. He scoffed at the idea at first but relented after seeing her dispel a mob of Heartless with her fancy footwork and fluid parries into slashes into a wave-clearing focused energy surge. She made it look easy so he figured he may as well add it to his repertoire, even if it did look kinda girly. Maybe it’d help him get his mind off of those troublesome thoughts.
But the rotten start had already tainted the rest of his day. First, Arika had scolded him for being late and made him do 20 laps around the training grounds as punishment. Then she had him do the usual warmup routine of muscle stretches, more laps, and a few sets of the 32-step sword form routine she pieced together for him. Of course he couldn’t blitz through it either; no, he had to do it painfully slow over and over until he did it perfectly. Once he got to the actual sparring it was all downhill. His mind was all over the place bouncing back and forth between thinking about what Ventus was up to, trying to time his parries just right, minding his stances, seething about Roxas having to exist in his general area and look just like his “brother.” His footwork was off, his distraction earned him a few well timed parries strong enough to send his training sword flying, his own attempts just slightly mistimed or lacking finesse which resulted in static blocks. All the while Arika tried to bark out advice and corrections but none of it got through that flurry of doubts and self-criticisms that was storming inside him.
“Stance steady! Stay light on your feet until the blade falls. Meet it at an angle, partial flat. Elbows in!”
Every word she uttered only irritated him further and fueled the ire burning inside. Get it together, Vanitas! Just parry a single hit already! How’d you get so weak and useless?! In his frustration he ended up reverting to his original brash and wild style unlike the more focused one he had drilled into him over weeks of grueling practice. Without even realizing it, he’d given up on the lesson entirely and just gave it his all to land a single massive hit and be done with this charade. 
Arika’s eyes widened when wisps of darkness started emanating off of him and she switched gears entirely when he charged her at full speed. Lacking enough time between blocking his blows to attempt to talk him down, she threw herself into the fight in hopes he’d soon tire himself out. Despite his raw enraged power being on par with hers, Arika’s years of experience and coolheaded approach let her deflect every sword slash and thrust Vanitas threw at her, either artfully sidestepping a blow or returning the force of it in full. At last in his rage and desperation, Vanitas resorted to his iconic overhead strike after leaving behind an afterimage. He warped into the air behind Arika, empowered his weapon with all of his dark magic, and swung down with all his might.
“Too slow!”
But the blade never met its target. Arika disappeared in a blur of violet just short of the blast and delivered a stunning barehanded strike to Vanitas’s solar plexus that sent him flying. The next thing he knew Vanitas was on the ground with the wind knocked out of him, his teacher dispelling her weapon in his peripheral vision. After catching her breath, she glanced down at her student and offered him a hand. This single gesture flooded the boy with anxiety and fear when he realized what he’d done, what he had tried to do. Wait, no! Damn it, I really messed up this time. It took everything he had not to create any more Unversed right then and make things worse for himself but that nagging voice in the back of his mind kept needling him with barbs of doubt. He knew what she was going to say but he just knew there was something more she was hiding. She only did this if…
“That’s quite enough for today. Come, let’s wind down.” It was calm and even like always but he could’ve sworn he heard some bite in the first half this time.
She’s giving up. She thinks you’re weak. No, she knows.
Ven was off in his nice little homeworld with his nice little group of friends that somehow hadn’t fallen apart in the decade they were scattered to the winds. He had friends, connections…a family. Ven didn’t need him, Xehanort didn’t, and now neither did Arika. After all that garbage about “caring” and “sympathy” she was throwing him away. Of course, he was darkness and nothing more. There’s no way she would forgive what he did. And worst of all he failed miserably, he was utterly useless. The air around him grew colder and his whole body felt numb before he reacted the only way he knew how. 
“Just stop it,” he muttered. She raised an eyebrow but stood unmoved.
“Stop what?”
“Just say what you mean and give up already! I know what you’re thinking so just say it,” he shouted, snubbing his master’s aid and slowly rising to his own two feet. The dark wisps had grown to envelop the boy almost entirely in a chilly shroud; he stared down at the inky haze that pooled around his feet and balled his fists at his sides. He let himself get lost in his pounding headache but fought to bite back the prickling tears welling in his eyes. No, anything but that. He was weak enough already.
“Give up on trying to ‘help’ me, it pisses me off! Keep your pity and let me sink back into darkness where I belong! And don’t pretend you still care after I tried to kill you because I won’t believe you! So just quit this whole act and stop trying to save me from-”
Vanitas hadn’t noticed Arika close the distance during his fuming outburst until she had stepped into his view. He shifted his ireful gaze from her feet to her face and was met with something truly bizarre. He was expecting a hateful sneer or cold sharp eyes. But instead he saw a look of concern, maybe even...sorrow? What? Suddenly he found himself wrapped up in a warm hug that caused the smoky dark aura that enveloped him to slowly but surely wane. Not having a clue how to react, Vanitas just stood there still and utterly dumbfounded.
“It’s alright, Vani. I’m not giving up on you, we’re just taking a break for the day. We can try again when you’re feeling better. I should have noticed something was troubling you earlier and for that, I am so sorry,” she said in a soft quivering voice. These strange words spoken in a kind yet sad voice made no sense to the boy. He’d failed, he’d tried to seriously hurt his master. She could’ve died. And she was apologizing to him? And she’d called him some cutesy nickname that didn’t irritate him as much as it should’ve. He balled his fists again, overwhelmed and baffled.
“W-what the hell are you talking about?! How could you have known-,” he snapped his head to face her and happened to notice that the dark aura around him was almost entirely gone. In fact, he felt significantly less frustrated and angry too all of a sudden. Like a massive weight was lifted off his chest and he could breathe again. But Vanitas realized the cost of that relief quickly, that darkness does not simply disappear. 
Arika’s smile was pained and her brow furrowed; he shifted his gaze to her false right arm made of her psionic magic. Normally a brilliant shade of violet, it had been dyed black by inky veins that snaked up the forearm and ended at her shoulder where magic met flesh. She winced as tiny errant barbs of the dark substance calcified and broke through the skin of her shoulder, he could practically feel it himself and winced in return. Arika gave Vanitas, now looking concerned himself, a dismissive gesture as the inky lines crawled up her false arm and out of her skin in short bursts only to fall to the ground and shatter or dissipate into vapor outright.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have taken your pain without asking either. Don’t worry about me, I’ve gotten the hang of tempering it through experience. It’s something my people can do,” she trailed off. Her smile fell and her eyes softened as she looked at him with an expression the boy could not describe, but it almost looked like she was feeling the same way he did just moments ago. Was this what she meant by sympathy? “You are very strong for having shouldered this pain in your heart for so long. How it must have ached...if you would let me I would help lighten the load any way I can. No one should have to suffer alone.”
Vanitas was at a loss for words; his head was a little clearer but he still felt awful about everything that had just transpired. And now he was baffled by whatever this magic trick was. Just what are you, lady? Someone who didn’t think he was weak, apparently. She even called him strong and was willing to hurt herself for his sake? But in a helping kind of way. There were plenty of questions to be asked, it’s not like he was super happy all of a sudden. He still wasn’t sure what he was feeling now in his fledgling heart (other than “not bad”), he didn’t know whether more punishment was in store for him after his stunt (probably not), he didn’t know how to feel about having his emotions—though negative—siphoned away even if it made him feel better. And while he started to admit to himself that he did want her help, he wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do. But there was one nagging question he had to know the answer to right now.
“Why do you care so much about me? Even though I’m…”
“Even though you’re darkness?” she chuckled. He looked away, almost afraid to hear her answer. “Because my heart can love darkness, of course. And darkness can learn to love back.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at that answer. Now you’re just making stuff up. “That’s impossible, lady. Darkness isn’t capable of that kind of mushy junk, it’s all just hate and pain.” But then what am I feeling?
Now it was her turn to rebuke him. “Oh, but it’s true. I’m living proof of it, as is my friend Cora and countless others who came before us. We all descend from the one born from the union between pure Light and pure Dark eons ago on my world. We all have light and darkness in our hearts in varying sizes, it’s what makes us all children of twilight. When the Dark fell in love with the Light...” she trailed off serenely. The last of the barbs painlessly fell away to the winds to return to the world and the hearts of living beings. Arika placed her hand to her shoulder and began to heal her wounds shut while Vanitas scratched his head at these outlandish notions placed before him. Light and darkness joining together? And they made some kid instead of a χ-blade? 
“But how? How could darkness fall in love with light at all?”
Arika regarded his question sagely for a moment before pulling the boy into another hug which he received less awkwardly. She placed her good hand on his messy hair and gave it a ruffle, “because the Light ceased fighting with the Dark long enough to listen to him, to understand his pain, and from there a bond was formed.”
Vanitas had neither a sarcastic quip nor follow-up question at the ready, he simply hummed and reluctantly rested his head on his master’s shoulder. He hoped she didn’t notice when he leaned ever so slightly into her hand as she patted his head. Clumsily, he brought his arms up to return the hug but only barely making contact back. This was still weird and new and he didn’t want to make this totally new feeling in his chest disappear just yet. It was something heavy and light, comforting and terrifying, yet entirely warm. Is this…a connection? He tightened his grip to brace himself against the prickling of tears but gave into the urge to let them fall where they may, it was relieving somehow. Arika stroked his hair and started to hum a song from a far-off world, letting her tears shed in kind. Their tears of joy were warm like the embrace they shared in solace, like the feeling in their hearts at this very moment, like the sunshine that greeted the shadows through the trees.
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raendown · 5 years
Link
Soooo this started as just a simple commission and then rapidly got out of control, as seems to keep happening to me lately. xD For you @copyninken for inspiring me with such an excellent commission prompt!
Chapter: 1/9 Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4660 Rated: M Summary: Walking patrol around a university for mages probably sounded like a wild time but Tobirama has never found it all that exciting. He's not even technically supposed to be here. When responding to a tripped alarm becomes a desperate attempt to stay alive, however, excitement is the last thing on his mind. All he's ever wanted is a quiet life alone with his books until he finds himself bound to Uchiha Madara in the most impossible way and finally learns to think about more than just himself - in a way.
Follow the link or read it under the cut!
KO-FI and commission info in the header!
Duality
He wasn’t even a professor. Tobirama scowled to himself and pulled the edges of his cloak tighter in search of whatever pocket he had dropped his warming stone in to. Such a simple rune and yet it was no help to him if he couldn’t find it. Of course, he wouldn’t need it if his brother hadn’t turned those puppy eyes on him and begged with his bottom lip wobbling pathetically, so disgustingly sad that Tobirama had agreed to do as he asked just to make that face go away. He wasn’t even a professor! He should not be out here in the evening chill performing a professor’s duties.
A huff of frustration escaped him and he dropped his handful of cloak, shoving it back so he could pat himself down for other pockets. His habit of misplacing things was the whole reason he’d started sewing extra pockets in to his clothing whenever he remembered to but the problem was that now he had too many pockets to look through and his things still ended up lost.
Fingers closing around something cool and smooth, he fought back the excess material to pull his hand out with a cry of triumph, expecting to see the warming stone he was certain he’d picked up that morning. Then he snorted in disgust when he found half a broken pestle instead. No one was around to watch him stomp one foot in irritation. No warming stone and now he was probably going to spend the rest of the evening wondering which mortar was missing its pestle. Had he taken someone else’s? Had he broken his own?
How was he supposed to properly grind faerie wings – willingly gifted, of course – if he hadn’t the right tools?
Contrary to his predictions, any thoughts of preparing ingredients for his various experiments came to an abrupt halt when he rounded the corner and saw the other person he was meant to be paired with for that evening’s patrol. Madara looked as dramatic as ever, clad in fiery red from head to toe as though his natural element wasn’t obvious in the way sparks clung to his hair and smoke rose out of his fingertips in fits and starts. Standing along one of the outer passages, positioned next to an opening in the wall, his hair rose and fell as the wind howled outside. The idiot would have frozen in minutes dressed down as he was if he wielded any other element.
After a few moments of standing in one place and scowling as hard as he could Tobirama accepted that the other man hadn’t noticed him there. White skin and sharp footsteps should have made him rather obvious in the dark but Madara had always been a little too wrapped up in himself to pay much attention to others.
Tobirama threw the broken pestle at him.
“What the fuck!?” Madara screeched in surprise when stone sparked against stone right next to his face, leaping away and spinning in a full circle until finally his eyes landed on where Tobirama had now crossed his arms with an expectant expressed. “Are you kidding me? I was supposed to walk patrols with your brother tonight; what the hell are you doing here?”
“Nothing pleasant, I assure you. Brother decided that planning a date with Mito on the same night he was scheduled to walk the halls with you was an excellent idea. One would think the security of his own university would be more important than gargling someone else’s tonsils but I have never claimed to understand how his mind works. And so here I am.” He smirked a little when Madara wrinkled his nose with disgust.
“Must you refer to it like that?”
“Have you seen them kiss? That is essentially what he is doing.” Tobirama slid his hands in whatever pockets were closest to ward off the winter chill. “Whatever you want to call it, he asked me to cover his duties while he is otherwise occupied.”
Visibly put off, Madara waved both hands aimlessly in protest. “You’re not even a professor!”
“I know!” It wasn’t often the two of them agreed on much but in this they were of the same mind.
Of course, Tobirama was more than old enough to be a professor here at the school should he have wished to be. He certainly had more than enough knowledge to teach any of several different subjects. Unfortunately for the masses he had very little interest in taking so much time away from his research, preferring to stick with his technical status as student and continue on in the life of a scholar. Nothing appealed to him more than the rush of discovering some ancient scrap of knowledge written by some unnamed mage and finding a use for it.
He did not appreciate errands like this one taking up precious time he could have been using to look more in to the effects of those crystals Touka had given him for his birthday a century or so ago. If his estimations were correct then they might have been formed from a naturally occurring phenomenon that only happened during a massive outburst of dragon magic. Such things had never been recorded!
“You’re off in your own head again already. Great. Well this is going to be just tons of fun, isn’t it? Babysitting you while looking out for students getting up to shenanigans. You know how they get when they catch the first hints of graduation! I’ve had three try to break in to my office in the past week and there’s still a month left of classes!”
“Looking for exam notes?”
“Obviously.” Madara snorted as though he hadn’t done the exact same thing when he was a student, sneaking a peak at his teacher’s notes so he knew exactly which spells he should study up on for the exam.
Tobirama snickered without bothering to hide it. Served the asshole right for being so uptight all the time. He hoped some of those students had got what they came for before Madara caught them. Later he would have to figure out who they were and provide them with the answers himself, having taken the class on a whim a decade or so back. The poor idiot probably didn’t have enough imagination to change his exam from year to year.
“Ugh, let’s just get this over with. We usually start with the western courtyard to make sure no one is trying to perform any summonings under the moonlight.” Spinning on his heel, hair and cloak flaring out with a wholly unnecessary amount of drama, Madara stalked away down the hall without waiting to see if he was being followed.
“I remember my first summoning.” Tobirama sighed wistfully. Ahead of him, Madara twitched.
Before he could get too far in to his reminiscing about the time he summoned a nether beast that took a liking to Madara’s hair – poor taste but it had probably been the funniest thing the university had seen in several decades – their patrol was interrupted before it could even truly begin.
As soon as the alarm went off Madara, long used to having it tripped by miscreant students, pressed one palm against the closest wall and murmured something in a low voice. The wards rippled under his touch and Tobirama could hear them deep down in the parts of himself that had been connected with the world’s magic since his very first breath. He knew as well as anyone else who had been here at the school long enough that the wards were alive in a way he couldn’t explain, although being a student he also knew that they wouldn’t listen to him as they did to Madara. More poor taste. That man had nothing to say that would be even half as interesting as the things Tobirama had floating around in his head.
“What have they to report?” he asked when his companion set off without saying anything, scurrying to keep up.
“The alert came from the northern edge of the property. What anyone is doing all the way out there is beyond me. If we’re lucky maybe they’ll fall in to the river before we get there.” Every word Madara spoke was dripping with offense as though whoever was out there causing trouble had done him a personal injustice by choosing to do so on the night it was his duty to watch over the massive castle housing their university.
Drifting along behind him, not half as worried, Tobirama snickered again at the image of someone falling in to the river. Long ago when the first mages had created this place of learning they had been just a wee bit suspicious of outsiders. History was a little vague on exactly which one of them did it but Tobirama’s theory was that it had actually taken all of them to convince the earth herself to raise up high and set the university grounds far above the rest of the surrounding countryside, sheer cliffs at every boundary line and only one set of stairs carved in to the eastern wall. Just imagining someone stupid enough to topple off the cliff and down in to the northern river left Tobirama smiling. People were idiots. If somehow a non-magic person had found their way to this hidden place and trekked all the way up a staircase that would be invisible to them he sort of hoped they fell back down the cliff just for being so insufferably nosey.
Neither of them spotted anyone on their way to where the wards had been disturbed, not another soul awake or at least none of them stupid enough to be up and about on a cold winter night such as this. Which was strange, actually, unless somehow the disturbance had come from outside the boundaries because if it had come from inside then they should have passed someone on the way to the scene. After exiting the front doors of the castle there was really nowhere for anyone to hide on the wide open grounds surrounding it.
As they drew closer, merely a few dozen feet away, Tobirama began to twitch.
“I don’t like this,” he grumbled.
“What?” Despite the fact that there was no love lost between them, he appreciated that Madara had the good sense to stop and listen to him. He did have his smart moments.
“The snow,” Tobirama pointed out. “It’s undisturbed. And there are no whispers.”
“Whispers?”
Cutting one hand through the air impatiently, he snapped, “Yes, whispers, the water in the snow. I can speak to my own element just as you can. No one has gone through here in the past few hours. If they had then the snow would remember.”
Madara eyed him contemplatively for a moment and then nodded. With absolutely no connection to water himself, he would have to rely entirely on Tobirama’s word for that. Unfortunately the fire in his veins did nothing to make him a cautious man, preferring to bull his way in to a situation while yelling his questions, and that tendency showed itself now. With a decisive slant of his brow he strode forward and stretched one hand out, probably intending to speak with the wards again and ask what they remembered about when the alarm had been tripped.
He cried out with surprise and stumbled back in to Tobirama, sending both of them crashing down in the very center of the glyph lighting up underneath their feet. Completely hidden by snow, diameter large enough that Tobirama could have stretched out completely and not been able to touch both sides, it glowed with a pale yellow light the moment Madara tried to pass beyond the far side and cast him back, trapping them both within.
“I told you I didn’t like this,” Tobirama murmured, already reaching out with raw magic to feel around the edges of the glyph.
“Shut up. What’s happening?”
“Oh, I really don’t like this.” That was all the answer Tobirama managed to give before the light doubled in intensity and the world around them began to warp. Madara screeched in his ear and Tobirama couldn’t help but agree – with the panic, not with the level of decibels he managed to achieve. This was definitely cause for panic.
They had barely a handful of seconds to process what was happening. One minute they lay in a heap together in the virgin snow outside of their beloved university and the next they were transported to what would have looked like an underground cavern of some sort if not for the wind blowing in from one end. Someone had forcibly relocated them to a cave. Someone was looking forward to an early grave when they found their way back home.
“If you even think the words ‘I told you so’ I will rearrange your face.” Madara sat upright just to snarl at Tobirama, covering his discomfort with the usual bluster.
“Now seems as good a time as any to tell you that my dearest wish is for you to someday learn to use your brain for thinking first before the yelling starts.”
“Fuck. You.”
“We may have to resort to that for entertainment, as abhorrent as the idea is. I’m sure you haven’t spent the brainpower to notice but we appear to be sealed in here.” Tobirama lifted one of his eyebrows and gestured towards where the cave twisted out of sight. No visible barrier could be found but he could already feel the muffling effect of some kind of dampening spell.
Not only had they been sent away but they had been trapped here. Wonderful. Tobirama wondered what he had done recently to piss the spirits off so much that he ended up trapped in a cave with only Uchiha Madara for company. Literally anyone else in the world would have been better – except for maybe Uchiha Izuna. Madara’s younger brother was probably the only person more annoying than him. Even worse, he somehow had less social tact than the world’s biggest buffoon.
Both men pushed themselves to their feet and moved towards the far side of the cave where a bend in the path would have led towards the outside world. A few meters before they would have reached it they were stopped, something unseen sizzling in warning. Neither of them were really all that interested in using themselves as a test subject to find out what they were being warned away from. At least, not without knowing who laid the barrier, what their element was, how willing they were to separate limbs from bodies, that sort of thing.
Edging backwards until the sizzling stopped, Madara dropped his face in to what was possibly the sourest expression he had ever managed, arms crossing and shoulders tensing until they were hiked up around his ears.
“This is bullshit,” he declared.
“I hate to say you’re right about anything but in this case I am compelled to agree.” Tobirama looked around for somewhere to sit, disappointed to realize there was nowhere that wasn’t covered in ice or snow. He ignored the offended the mess of huffs and snorts behind him as Madara tried to figure out if he was offended or smug.
After a while the man settled with, “Between the two of us we can find a way through it, why are you sitting down?”
“Because between the two of us I am not volunteering to get close enough to that barrier to make a physical inspection. If you would shut up for a few moments I could gather my concentration to look at it in other ways.” Scraping a small area clean with the side of one boot, he added, “Unless you also happen to have studied for as long as I have and understand how to connect yourself to another person’s magic? No? I didn’t think so.”
“Could you be any more of an asshole?” Madara snarled.
“Probably but they say imitation is the highest form of flattery and I have no intention of flattering you.”
While his companion took a few seconds to work through that Tobirama sat down on the cold stone floor, as free of snow as it was going to get, and turned himself inwards to the power flowing through him. Madara’s inevitable screech of anger went in one ear and out the other as Tobirama let his consciousness gather and then flow outwards, stretching himself until he could feel every inch of his surroundings. The bright sensation of fire-passion-fearless took concentration to think past, as Madara often did, but Tobirama forced himself to push farther towards the warm-forbidding-apology that awaited him at the mouth of their impromptu dungeon. Strange, he thought. Those weren’t the feelings he had expected to get from this little exploration. Whoever set up that barrier felt guilty while doing so.
Carefully brushing along the edges, Tobirama was able to feel for points where the spell was weakest and slip underneath them, filling the proverbial cracks with his own magic and leaving pieces of himself behind like those hidden landmines non-magical folk had been so fond of during their first couple of wars.
Retreating back in to his own body and opening his eyes felt like a loss. It was always a bit of a jarring experience feeling the world in such an intimate way and then opening his eyes to find himself nothing more than human once again. Existing as conscious magic made him feel free and unconstrained while coming back to his body left him overly aware of how cold his ass had become from sitting on frozen rock. Popping his eyes open, he grimaced and clenched both butt cheeks in an effort to encourage some blood flow.
“Well?” Madara demanded. “Did the oh-so-smart scholar find anything useful?”
“I’ve weakened the barrier but it’ll take time to fall apart completely. Until then there’s really nothing for us to do but wait.” Not the best news he’d ever had to deliver, although the irritation in Madara’s expression was at least a small lift to his mood.
“Seriously? We just sit here? And do nothing?”
“I have done something. That something will take time. If you have anything you would like to add to my efforts then be my guest.” Tobirama waited and when his companion gave no response he hummed in satisfaction. Being right was a pleasure all on its own but being right when Madara was wrong? That was always best.
Since it was already quite late his hope was that he could somehow fall asleep or at least doze off to pass the hours more quickly. Madara stomped around trying to find a place of his own to settle down while Tobirama closed his eyes again and told himself very firmly to ignore the cold seeping deeper and deeper in to his limbs with every passing moment. If he lost part of his ass cheeks to frostbite someone was going to pay very deeply for such a transgression.
More than an hour passed in complete silence after the other idiot with him finally settled down and yet still Tobirama couldn’t bring himself even close to dozing off. Water was his element of course but he certainly didn’t enjoy sitting around in the frozen form of it for ages on end. Around the time he realized he had all but stopped shivering he also realized that perhaps losing an extremity or two was the least of his problems, though it still ranked fairly high in his mind. His limbs were fairly important to his ability to perform certain spells.
Curious in a sluggish sort of way, he lifted one hand and tried to wiggle his fingers.
“Ah,” he murmured, voice slurring. “That’s not good at all.”
“What’s not good?” Madara’s voice demanded. Up until he spoke the man had appeared to be sleeping, hunched down with the snow around him melting, body heat raised to keep warm.
Tobirama forced his head to turn and meet his companion’s eyes. It took a few moments to process the sudden cursing, the way Madara scrambled across the cave to kneel in front of him. When large hands enclosed his own he felt nothing.
“Your fucking lips are blue! Actually blue!” Madara blew on his hands. Logically Tobirama could guess that he was heating the air but it appeared his fingers had gone entirely numb. At some point while he sat there and waited for sleep hypothermia had found him instead. Irritating. More so because he found thinking straight incredibly difficult once he actually tried to think about anything.
“Definitely not good,” he said.
“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” Madara demanded.
“As if you would have cared.” Difficult as it was to concentrate on anything, the antagonistic relationship between them was as natural as his own heartbeat and required even less thought.
Predictably, Madara snorted, almost dropping his hands in retaliation. “Fine way to speak to the only one around who can keep you alive,” he snarled.
Contrary to his attitude he did continue to breathe warm air over the frozen digits between them. If they’d had a little warning before getting summarily evacuated from university grounds then maybe one of them might have brought along gloves or a scarf. Well, Madara wouldn’t have because he didn’t need either but Tobirama certainly would have bundled up a little more. Either their captor hadn’t thought of these particular consequences or they didn’t really care and he would only find out which if he lived through the cold night.
For the most part Tobirama sat still through Madara’s attempts to bring feeling back in to his hands, even if that was largely in part due to the fact that he was worried any movements would send him toppling over sideways. Only the fact that he had settle in place seemed to be keeping him upright. After a while Madara gave a frustrated growl and Tobirama blinked up at him wordlessly in question.
“This is taking too long. I can’t breathe the rest of you warm again – also that would be creepy and I hate the images in my head now. I need to warm all of you up at once.”
“So do that,” Tobirama mumbled.
“Well it’s not as easy as ‘just do it’! I could build a flame easy enough but it would burn you before it did much good. There’s…another option. But you’re not going to like it. Hell, I don’t like it.” At Tobirama’s grunt he took a deep breath and absently rubbed the hands between his own. “Open your pathways to me. Your core magic. I’ll merge it with mine and lend you my fire; that should keep us both warm.”
Staring at him in complete shock, Tobirama managed to ask, “Have you gone completely mad?”
It was, by all accounts, a perfectly understandable question. There were few things more intimate that one mage could do for another than allow them to touch their core magic. Not even most married couples would be comfortable bearing their souls in such a manner. To do so for someone he didn’t even like, let alone trust, the very idea was laughable.
Yet Madara was far from laughing.
“There has to be another way to get warm,” he insisted. Madara sighed.
“No. Your body temperature is so low, there’s no other way to warm all of you at once without killing you. I could wrap around you and raise my own heat but it wouldn’t work fast enough and you would burn.” Shaking his head, he frowned. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I thought something else would work, believe me.”
Tobirama closed his eyes for a moment to think and realized a few moments later that there was no longer any time to do so. When he tried to open his eyes again it was a fight, a harrowing effort, and he recognized that Madara was right; he was too far gone.
“Fine,” he whispered.
Without asking he couldn’t be sure if Madara was doing this because he would never hurt Hashirama by letting his brother go out like this or simply because he was a man with enough morals not to let another human die right in front of him. Tobirama considered it but decided against asking. He probably wouldn’t like the answer and it didn’t truly matter. In the end he was still being offered a free ticket to survival, a one-time offer going fast.
At the very least Madara was merciful enough not to be smug about it. He nodded once before shuffling around behind where Tobirama sat and wriggling in between his frozen bulk and the wall to press their bodies together, chest to back.
“The closer we are the better this will work,” he said. “Don’t worry, I hate it just as much as you. One little cuddle and then we never speak of this again.”
“I’ll clam up if you do,” Tobirama assured him.
His companion grunted. With his body now slumped backwards against another form Tobirama found his head lolling forward to stare down at the hands interlocking with his own again to create two points of connection, making a circle of their pathways for their magic to flow along. Clever, he had to admit. Positioning them like this would leave them in a constant state of feedback with each other.
Despite already agreeing to do this, opening himself to Madara proved to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life. Every instinct in his body cried out against the first touch of another’s magic where he should feel only his own and yet with sheer stubbornness he managed to keep himself from shoving the other man out. He expected the feeling of being invaded, the most sacred part of him violated when it should have remained pure only until the unlikely day he intentionally invited another in.
What he did not expect was the harmony. Madara’s core and his own merged together as easily as stirring the ingredients for one of his elixirs. Warmth suffused him as promised but it wasn’t quite the warmth he expected, less body heat and more a sort of inner peace the likes of which he’d never achieved in his life.
In the darkness his inner eye was blinded by a light, fire rushing along the rivers of his core magic, cool blue turned to burning gold and dancing in such a way he couldn’t distinguish fire or water.
And he wasn’t alone. Tobirama stared unseeing at the cavern around them and knew only the second presence inside his mind, the hesitant brush of a thought that wasn’t his own. Ever too curious for his own good, he pushed towards it and gasped as he encountered Madara’s mind, faint but there, the edges of that twisted and baffling mind just beyond an ephemeral and very much proverbial wall. He shouldn’t. Tobirama knew he shouldn’t. But his curiosity had gotten him in to trouble many times in his life and this would certainly not be the last.
He pushed. Just a quick gentle nudge, inching a little closer for a better look. What better way to understand a man’s actions and personality than to take a look inside his mind and the feelings therein? For a moment he could feel the edges of Madara’s curiosity echoing back at him and, incredibly, he got the impression that he didn’t so much break in rather than the door being willingly cracked open. It was a thrill until the unthinkable happened. He slipped. He fell in to Madara in a way that would have been impossible to describe to anyone who had not experienced the same thing before but if he hadn’t just given himself entirely over to another he would have had only one thing to say.
They were one.
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portfolioshowcase · 6 years
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Interview, Navina Khatib - Psychedelic Colours Over The Horizon
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Navina! Do you have a psychedelic vision of life?
My vision of life is free, colorful, peaceful and open-minded. I wouldn’t say that it is psychedelic as for me this term is associated with a certain time, style, music and also chemical supplements. My vision of life is never to oppress creativity, to be honest about your own creativity, cherish your creativity, never give up on your creativity, no matter what they say. My vision of life is a genuine and constant discussion with creativity in order to maintain and preserve it until the end.
A person with awareness or someone in meditation is bound to have a psychedelic vision, yet some supplement with chemicals for glimpses. Where does your vision come from, was it influenced by an event or a spiritual longing?
I think the root of my imagination and creativity lies in my childhood, growing up in the laidback German countryside in the 80s. We had no TV or other distractions back then, so the only media we were exposed to were vinyl records and tapes, and, of course, books. As a child, I loved listening to fairytales. I think one of my favorites was “Tino und die Nachtigall” (Tino and the Nightingale) by Will Quadflieg, a fairytale about a boy who catches birds - until one day he catches a nightingale that takes him on a trip around the world and changes his life forever. “Die Unendliche Geschichte” (The NeverEnding Story) by Michael Ende had a deep impact on my life, too. I recently remembered that it was the first movie that I ever saw, on a friend’s video recorder.   All of my favorite fairytale recordings had a beautiful soundtrack, so the discovery of music has influenced my imagination ever since. When I create I love to listen to music, especially ambient music. The mood totally reflects my vision of life and my imagination. I still love music that expands space and time, full of lush pads and reverb. So maybe my vision of life comes from audiovisual patterns.
A large amount of your work consists of landscapes, dreamscapes, psychedelic colors all over the horizon. Showcasing poetry, hidden treasures in these moments. Now again, is that because of a spiritual longing or something else entirely?
Longing is definitely a central topic in my photos. I started photography at age 11 and along with music and film, it was my first love. It gave me the opportunity to totally lose myself – time appears to stand still when taking a photograph – to imagine foreign places and dream of traveling. I always wanted to see the world. In German, there is a word called “Fernweh” that literally means the longing for distance. In addition to photography, I also do films. Fittingly, my first attempt in filmmaking was a short with the title “Longing”.
I love distant and foreign places, but for my art, I feel a simple landscape is not enough. I view things differently, I see more in them. I see more colors and more horizons. I would say that with the abstraction of every landscape, I am referring to the conflict between the perception of our inner and outer world. My aim is the dissolution of concrete reality in order to solve this conflict and even more – to dissolve it.
Are these scapes invented through imagination? What are your feelings towards imagination and its importance in shaping human consciousness?
Imagination is everything to me. It’s free. It’s raw, It’s real and honest. You will find exactly the distance you long for with your imagination. Imagination is life and the engine for creativity. Imagination is protecting ourselves from the pressure and harshness of the reality of life. It’s like a shell that unfolds its beauty inside.
Have you had a more elaborate experience of your consciousness, something that moved you into the unknown? Could you please share that with us?
It’s mostly places that moved me and expanded my consciousness. When I was 20 I lived in California (San Francisco and Santa Barbara) for one year. I traveled a lot along the West Coast during that time – the nature just blew me away. The color and the wilderness of the Pacific Ocean has influenced me ever since. Later, I lived in Mexico City for a year, quite a chaotic place where you could easily lose yourself in all the buzz.
When I was younger I really liked the idea of losing myself. I guess on the one hand to experience my limits, and on the other hand to pull me out again. I have always loved the unknown, so a few years later I went back to Peru to work in an orphanage, which became the content of my first documentary. An extended trip through South America in 2011 brought me most of the photos you can see in my gallery.
A lot of my pictures were shot in Uyuni, a huge salt desert in the Altiplano of Bolivia – the most breathtaking place I have seen so far. Experiencing it has definitely expanded my horizon. Imagine blue, pink, red lakes with pink flamingos on top of it.  However, even the most breathtaking nature is still a reality. I figured out that in my imagination this is not enough. By the abstraction of these landscapes, I want to take away even the last glimpses of reality. You could say nature is my muse and inspiration; the abstraction of it makes it complete.
..and does that contribute to why you chose this medium, of being a visual artist?
I can express myself best in visual arts. When it comes to film I show reality. My first feature film “Casa Luz – House Of Light” was about the children of an orphanage in the Andes of Peru. My second film, which is still in the pipeline, will be about personal destinies in modern society. For me film is the medium to document reality, photography to document imagination.
Now, can you please bring us closer to your process? Do you usually sketch first, or use photoshop to create later? What's it like?
Almost all photos were shot in places that are already magical, such as the Altiplano of Bolivia or the foggy woods on La Gomera Island. I exaggerate the psychedelic nature of these places by giving them my vision and imagination via post-processing.
Coming back to the colors, with such an extraordinary palette - how do you think that affects the mood of the photograph itself and also the experience of the viewer?
I started creating it as a kind of therapy - you could even call it a color therapy - for myself. In Berlin where I live, we hardly have light and colors especially in the winter days, so most people get depressed. From the fields of art therapy I know about the impact colors have especially on children. I love the power of colors, the influence they have on our moods and minds.
How do you keep the perspective straight on where you wish to lead the viewers of your imagery? Does that actually shape your experience while creating as well? Do you feel it makes you want to be more grounded before you start creating?
I can tell you what the colors evoke in myself, but I can’t and I don’t want to control how other people might perceive them. I am always happy when somebody writes me a lovely message or elaborates on my work, for example saying it is like a kind of meditation for them. This makes me more than happy, for it means that the colors might have the same kind of impact on them as they have on me.
However, I don’t want to lead the viewers. I don’t want to be explanatory. I don’t want to give answers. People should see in my pictures whatever they want to see in them.
With that, can you tell us about your favorite poem that you have read since you started creating?
The magic of poems caught me at a very young age, the play with language, metaphors, myths, and images.
I love the poem “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe. It is really dark, but it sparks so much the imagination. I love how the language is put together. Poe was a master and it really moves me to think that it took him 10 years to finish this poem. In a world where every single second is money and everything is calculated, spending 10 years on a single poem seems unimaginable.
Lastly, What would you suggest or share with other visual artists?
Artists should free themselves from expectations and should love what they do so that this love shines through their work. They should trust their intuition.
Creativity comes from creation; life is creation, creation through love.
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Interview with Navina Khatib
https://www.instagram.com/navinakhatib/
https://www.vimeo.com/navinakhatib
Interviewed by The Portfolio
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wnq-anonymous · 7 years
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17 Survival Tips For Empaths And Highly Sensitive People
If you are an empath or highly sensitive individual, it can seem like your personal world is continually invaded by the energy and feelings of those around you. This can wear you down and drain you of your own life force if you are not careful, which is why it is so vital to utilize all of the coping mechanisms discussed below.
Your giving nature and highly attuned senses are gifts to this world, but without proper care, they run the risk of being lost. If you’re an empath, I urge you to keep this list close at hand for those times when the outer universe is harming your inner universe.
1. Identify Drains & Energizers
The first and most important thing that any empath can do is to figure out when and how their energy gets drained and, similarly, those things that act to energize them.
With this knowledge, they can try to avoid situations, places, and even people who sap their energy, while making sure they spend enough time doing the things that replenish their stores.
It may sound simple, but stemming the flow out and boosting the flow in are essential elements for empaths to not just survive, but flourish.
2. Create A Shield
There are bound to be some situations that you, as a highly sensitive person, would rather avoid, but simply can’t because of their significance in your life. 
Important work functions, large family gatherings, and other social events could all involve people and energies that you find difficult to deal with.
Since they are somewhat necessary, you have to find a way to cope with such circumstances and an energy shield is one way to do that.
It will require effort and practice on your part, but eventually you can form a mental barrier that lets in what you wish to let in, but deflects anything negative away. 
You just need to image a bubble surrounding your being – a bubble of light is a good way to think about it. 
Inside this bubble is your world, where you can focus inwards and find your balance, while everything else is on the outside.
When you sense your energy being drained by other people or the occasion, you can retreat inside your bubble and stop the flow. It all comes down to awareness of you and what’s within you.
3. Watch Your Thoughts
If you find it difficult to build yourself a shield to prevent negative thoughts and feelings from invading your mind, the next best thing is to keep careful watch over your mind to identify their source.
For example, when you find yourself thinking angry thoughts, ask yourself whether this is your anger, or something that you’ve absorbed from another. 
Once you have worked out whose feeling it is and where it came from, you can begin a dialogue in your mind to find a solution.
Ask yourself what the anger is trying to tell you – perhaps you feel something is missing from your life in the present moment or maybe you find another person’s behavior unacceptable.
Go through a quick question and answer session to see if there is something that can be done to release the anger, and then do it.
Identification is the key here – working out what the thought is trying to tell you and where it came from is a sure fire way to either own it or dispel it.
4. Repeat Positive Affirmations
Empaths are usually very open and giving people, but this is not to say that they always remain positive. 
Because they feel what’s around them, they can suffer from sadness and grief that isn’t theirs. 
To remain positive, it can be helpful to have a selection of positive affirmations on hand to push away from the negativity and swim back to the light.
5. Grounding
You may find that you have a stronger connection with the Earth than most people and you can use this to your advantage if you know how.
It is possible, with practice, to take any downbeat energy and feelings that you may be having and send them into the Earth where they are absorbed. 
Similarly, the connection can send positive vibes upwards and into your center.
It all comes down to identifying and strengthening that bond between you and the Earth.
6. Forgive
Genuine forgiveness is the process by which negative energy that has been pent up inside, is released and waived on its way.
Whether it is a person or something else that occurred in your past, as long as you hold on to the hurt, it will continue to sap you of your life force. 
Only when you detach yourself from it, can you begin the healing process.
As a sensitive soul, you probably find yourself getting used and hurt more than most – it’s a by product of your caring and giving nature – so knowing when and how to forgive is especially important for you.
7. Catharsis
Empaths will often have busy minds that are trying to deal with the many emotions that bombard them on a daily basis. 
It can be the case that they get so wrapped up in their thoughts that they neglect to process and purge the feelings that they have; instead they get stored up and continue to affect them.
Catharsis happens when you let yourself feel the emotions at their most vivid – crying when sad, laughing when happy, and screaming when angry. 
These are all expressions of emotions, but they are so much more too. They become outlets for the pent up energy, whether positive or negative.
So don’t be afraid to embody the emotions, albeit temporarily, so that you may process and overcome them.
8. Schedule Some ‘You Time’
Many of the tips in this list are best practiced alone, which is why it is critical to give yourself plenty of ‘you time’ to do just that.
Don’t feel bad if you have to say no to other people; your wellbeing is a high priority and your family and friends will get the very best out of you if they first allow you to be by yourself.
So whether you set aside two evenings a week, or an hour before you go to bed each night, make sure you put some alone time in your diary.
9. Create A Safe & Welcoming Place
Tied directly to the previous point about being by yourself, you will be able to recover your energies and rediscover your balance much quicker if you create a comfortable place in which to relax.
More than other people, empaths benefit from having a place that is solely for relaxation purposes. 
Whether it’s a bedroom, bathroom, or somewhere else, don’t watch TV, organize your life, or take phone calls in it – at any time. 
Make it a place for recuperation only.
10. Eat Well
It might sound strange, but highly attuned individuals are far more in touch with the food and nutrition they put into their bodies. 
When they eat crap, they feel crap.
With this in mind, be sure to try and stick to a diet that is healthy and balanced. By eating the right mixture of fresh fruits and vegetables, meats, pulses, and a few little treats (in moderation), you will help top up your energy stores effectively.
11. Meditation & Yoga
Keeping the body and mind supple and flexible can give an empath the additional coping skills they require to navigate the world around them. 
The benefits gained from practices such as meditation, yoga, and other similar arts can never be underestimated, and this is no more true than for an empath.
12. Get Out Into Nature
The link between an empath and the Earth has already been discussed, so it should come as no surprise to you to learn that exposure to nature in all its glory is a powerful healer for them.
Nature is awash with vibrant energy and just by immersing yourself in it for a short while, you can soak this energy up and revitalize yourself.
13. Change Your Perspectives On People & Energy
As a highly sensitive person, it can sometimes be puzzling to witness and experience other people. 
You are on the upper scale when it comes to caring and kindness, and when you see people exhibiting neglectful or hurtful behavior, it can trouble you greatly.
For this reason, it is recommended that you try to remove yourself from your mind and observe these other people not as bad or evil, but as misguided or hurting.
Quite often, those who act at the opposite end of the spectrum to you, do so because of their upbringing or some trauma they have suffered in their past. 
They simply may not be able to envision the world as you do and therefore don’t treat it, or the people in it, the same way that you do.
By changing your perspective of these people and their energies, you can lessen their effect on you through pure understanding. 
You may even find that you can experience love and sympathy for them where you once experienced bewilderment and frustration.
14. Cleanse Your Chakras
Your chakras are your spiritual and energetic centers within your body and keeping these free from damaging negativity is of paramount importance.
A popular and effective means of doing this is to use aromatherapy and/or smudging. 
The power of fragrance has been used for thousands of years and scents such as those from sage and lavender can help clear your chakras of anything that may prevent them from working at their best.
Some also believe that certain crystals can be used to absorb negative energy from your surroundings and from within yourself.
15. Be Grateful For Your Gifts
Being an empath or a highly sensitive person may sometimes seem like a burden, but it is actually a great gift. 
You are able to experience the zest and zeal of life to a high degree and one that many other people will struggle to attain.
Just by showing gratitude for your abilities, you can aid the rejuvenation process. 
Your thanks is itself a positive energy which can force out the negative and leave you with serenity.
16. Set Boundaries
Sometimes there will be people in your life that, without knowing it, cross into your energy zone – that bubble from earlier in the article. 
This is why it is crucial that you set boundaries when and where they are needed.
These boundaries can be physical, conversational, temporal, and many other things depending on how a person invades your energy.
Be firm with these limits and don’t let your caring nature leave you with your guard down.
17. Take Responsibility
If you believe that the world ought to change to accommodate your sensitive ways, you are going to be gravely disappointed to learn that it never will.
Instead, it is empaths that have to take some responsibility for their own wellbeing and the previous tips should enable you to do this.
You should know that your peace and your joy are products of your own making; while you may feel the world like nobody else, you are also capable of managing it. 
Be empowered, believe in yourself, and practice practice practice. Nothing is easy when you’ve got an empathetic soul, but everything is achievable.
[THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY WRITTEN BY A CONSCIOUS RETHINK]
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ecotone99 · 4 years
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Humor [HM] Fantasy [FN] Cadorna Keep Chapter 2 - A Dnd GameLit
Chapter 2 - Tracy Gets a New Spell
The sky was dark blue and the sun hot and cheerful. White fluffy clouds grazed deeply upon the horizon, looking so much like the snowy mountain caps upon which the giants were reported to dwell. The breeze was light, pleasant, and constant.
The party, though, well contrasted against the happy day around them. The ship’s crew busily avoided them as they worked the lines and wheel, keeping their vessel, Sir Boaty McBoatface, on path and on time.
Seriously? The vague voice of one of the Gamers asked.
A vague and authoritative murmur dismissed the question in the distance. The party refocused on each other and the task at hand.
“There was nothing left of them when we came back to pick them up. Balls!” Bern moaned, looking off a bit into the distance. There better be a hoard of treasure when we get there, he contemplated, dark thoughts stretching out like daggers back to when they got owned.
Carric the bard smiled, though, and strummed his lute.
“It could be bad. It could be horrible! But we’ve done bad and horrible. Remember when we were first level nothings and we saved the world?”
“Yeah!” Yenrab the barbarian piped in. “We saved our world! Ya know, this is gonna be a breeze compared to that. At least it isn’t a god or the king of the fairies or anything like that this time, right?”
Wex coughed, the mask of his god Mask glinting hard in the sunlight of the dark blue sky.
“As far as we know, bro, it’s both,” Wex noted. The group fell silent. About them bustled the boat folk, eager to drop off this party of five onto the monster-infested island keep before them and then be off.”
“Hey!” Yenrab said, rising with his own grin to replace the one that Carric had lost. “I have an idea. Back in the tribe when times were hard and morale was low we’d, well, you know, we’d sing songs.”
“What kind of songs?” Tracy asked with sudden interest. “Back in the Freemeet we’d sing songs too. But not just when we were sad. When we were happy too. And when we were angry. Or hungry. Or, like, when the moon was rising into the sky and it was night and -”
Bern Sandros put a hand to his temples, rubbing them as anger clouded his vision.
“Tracy?!” the man asked.
“Yes Bern?”
“That’s enough about songs, mate. It’s not gonna happen,” the cantankerous assassin grunted, his face dark and distant.
Tracy nodded and took two steps back.
Oh no his mind warned.
“Laaaaaaaaa -” Tracy began.
“Tracy!” Bern shouted.
“Laaaaaaaaa -”
“Don’t you dare -”
“Let’s build a snowman! We can give him lots of arms-”
“Gaaah!” Bern loudly grumped as Tracy sang a merry tune. Wex laughed and Bern gave him an angry look. The cleric, though, simply shrugged. Then he weaved some sort of orangish gold field about himself, divine threads radiating to his fingers from the eye holes of his mask. It flared as it finished and then it finished. Wex put his arms behind his head and relaxed, sighing without sound.
Carric also shrugged and began to play accompaniment to Tracy, whose sorcerer’s robes were at this point swinging and sighing back and forth in rhythm, glimmering and shimmering in chaotic swirls and whorls in the rainbow robes of his craft. Yenrab nodded, an enormous grin occupying his face, and then he moved over and sat down next to the grumpy assassin. Bern gave the man a look over, his face rigid as he wondered what sort of conversation was about to be pushed his way.
“So what’s up, Bern?” the big half-orc asked his friend. “We’ve faced bad odds before and, well, think about how many of those, uhm, experience points that the Gamers use we’ll get a hold of. Maybe we can even level up before the next session! It can’t be that you’re scared, ya know, because I’ve seen you swinging through the air from three stories to try and kill the big baddy. You’ve got what Granny always told me was gumption. She used to drain that from the animals she caught before she ate them.”
“She ate them raw, right? Every time you talk about your grandma it is disgusting,” the human said, the shadow of a smile creeping over him.
“You got that right. Ya know, she said it didn’t taste quite right if it didn’t squeal. But I’m just wondering what is on your mind. We’re friends, hey, we can talk.”
“It’s just that we really got bested by the general back there. And it made me think - when can us little guys be the besters instead of the bestees? Are we just rolling around from mission to mission, adventure to adventure, making ends meet? Are we saving up for a better tomorrow? Mate, I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Yenrab sighed. He was younger than them all and yet, often, he had the clearest head. He maybe wasn’t the wisest adventurer, but perhaps he had the best philosophies on life.
“Bern, you know, all we can do now is rise. And we’ve been rising. That party, Some Other Guys, they were the best around. They thought that nobody was gonna keep them down. Think about that. The best, around. Ya know, I bet they fought till the end, staying proud, staring out to the clouds, when the odds in the game finally defied them. And now that’s us. But we aren’t like that. We aren’t like some strange heroic montage that’ll get murdered the moment the Gamers lose interest. We’re going to get somewhere in life. We’ve got skills. We’ve got plans. We’ve got strategy -”
“You’ve got Tracy,” the sorceress interrupted, her song finished. The air sparkled with magical cantrips about her as she attempted to emphasize the moment.
“Carric too!” the bard added, smirking in that odd way that showed he knew he was caught in some lame after-school special type moment and he was just making the best that he could of it.
Wex began snoring, his holy spell of silence finally at an end. It was a rough and guttural sound that snapped him back to wakefulness.
“You guys done singing,” he asked, his words groggy and slow.
“Yeah,” Tracy smiled. “It was wonderful and you missed all of it.”
“Good,” Wex yawned.
“I’m going to get somewhere for sure guys,” Carric Smith informed them as a catch of spray blasted over them, smooth and cool. A drop of lake water dripped down from a pointed ear. “Remember that orphanage in Torus Strade? I bought the place. And that’s where I’m going to retire.”
“Yeah. Life in a small village doesn’t sound so bad,” Bern Sandros grinned, nodding at the idea. “But really, if I can, I just want to help all of my mates out back home. You know, some of them deserve to be out there on the streets, but not all of them. Maybe I’ll make a guild and get them some good paying and honest work.”
“Honest?” Tracy asked, one eyebrow arched in inquisition.
“Mostly honest then,” he chuckled. “Alright, yeah, we coulda shoulda woulda asked for more my friends but, hey, one day it’ll be us that some new adventurers are whinging on about, right?”
“Absolutely. I can’t wait to be grand poombah, chocka full magic and with acolytes running around doing all of my stuff for me,” Wex daydreamed aloud. “But I’m going to take quests in a new direction. Can you imagine all the things you can do with a, as the Gamers say it, first level party under your command? Welcome adventurers to your first quest, I’ll say. You must travel to the market and obtain the lamb of sustenance using naught but your adventuring skills and the coins in your pocket.”
“Haha that is top kek, mate,” Bern threw to him. The elf beamed back.
“I’d make my adventurers give Yenrab a bath,” Carric smirked.
“I will never ever allow myself to smell as I did in Torus Strade,” the half-orc barbarian stated as he failed to suppress a shudder. “I had to roll around in muck for days even after the damnation bound curse was lifted.”
“Well, mates, we’ve got some time before we get there,” Bern Sandros said, standing up to face them. “I for one can use some zeds. Rest up and pick your spells, right Yenrab?”
“Yeah,” Yenrab agreed. “Sounds like a heck of a plan.”For the rest of the voyage they napped, dreaming pleasant dreams of handing off all of the crap jobs to lower level nobodies, and perhaps not having to hear or deal with the grief of the Gamers any longer. All except Tracy, who dreamed of going bald and shining his head with the wax of the babaturt, its prized excretions found only in the lands of the Freemeet.
***
“‘Ips up and arms out ‘venturemen, we’ll be back dis time in da morrow, ya ken?” one of the sailors, hairy like a bear and missing more than a few teeth, spat at them in a friendly attempt at conversation.
“Ew,” responded Tracy, now a man since his male id had taken over. He wiped the saliva off of his face and tasted it.
“I ain’t kenna da gurl t’ing do,” the sailor continued. His accented Common sounded Frostmountian. If so he was a long way from home.
Dice clattered in the air, unheard by any but the party.
“Ah, it took me a bit to get that,” Carric informed the man, a 17 blazing in his head. “See here, let me explain. Tracy is anointed by his god Coraellon. Not one of the native gods but one of the foreign gods. And this god, well, he can give elves and half-elves his mark. If they have that mark they change genders every now again. And, well, I don’t know if maybe Tracy here is extra-marked or something, but he’s got three of him inside that noggin of his and they just kinda take turns driving.”
“Huh,” answered the sailor, shaking his head in wonder. “‘Da gods and dere miracles.”
“He’s got that right,” Yenrab smirked, stretching out as they piled out of the small craft onto the thin strip of beach at the entrance to the keep.
It certainly was something to see, Cadorna Keep. It wasn’t large but it was tactical. Its outer walls had been built right up to the edge of the shoreline on every side but this one, with its walls slanted in to out in order to make scaling and climbing a very difficult task indeed. Certain magical fields kept the dirt from eroding, making the structure a multi-generational facet to a new and needful republic, and thick stone blocks lay within its shallow depths, driven through with rusted iron rings through which to moor visiting craft.
The only place upon which anyone could land soldiers was this thin strip of beach, also buttressed against erosion, at the front gate of the entire structure. Maybe a few dozen soldiers, tops, had the room to assemble and fight effectively upon this sandy and rocky terrain, upon which a few straggly, leave-less and thin wooden plants also lived. It looked like an assaulters’ nightmare. Or a defenders’ paradise.
The party rechecked their gear, looking about to make sure nothing was missing. Then they bid good-bye to the transport crew, who good-lucked them back as they left, shoving off hard from the sandy embankment.
“Well, bros and brahs, this is it. All on our own. In a place that is haunted. And a cleric that, get this, can finally turn! Buzzow!” Wex exclaimed, taking off his mask and doing a a tight little jig.
“Hey man, congratulations!” Bern said, slapping him on the back. “You mentioned that before, mate. How did that happen?”
“Ah, well, as far as I can tell my Gamer was whining about something and the Chief Gamer gave in and boom, I just felt wiser and more powerful.”
“I wish my Gamer was a whiny whiner,” Carric complained. “I’ve heard whispers from above that when I get to high enough level I can cast fireball!”
“Hold up, hold up,” Yenrab interrupted. “Hi, ya know, Yenrab the half-orc barbarian here, what exactly is this stuff? What is turning and what is fireball?”
Tracy held up his hand. Yenrab tried to ignore him. Tracy waved his hand and began to jump up and down. The rest of the party giggled, staying mum.
“Oh for the sakes of the gods. Yes, Tracy?” Yenrab groaned, though a hint of humor danced about his cheeks.
“Turning is when a cleric or priest of someone with god-bestowed power tries to use the god-bestowed power. What one can do with it and how many times they can do it depends on the god. A good god usually devotes a lot of energy to turning the undead, scaring them off or even destroying their essence. The neutral gods like Mask are kinda hit or miss on what they do and how often. And the evil gods, well they tend to try to use their energy to control or to recruit the undead.”
Yenrab looked at Wex for confirmation. Wex nodded, looking quite impressed.
“Alright, that was pretty good Tracy,” the barbarian complimented him. “So, now, what is this other thing. Fireball? A ball of fire?”
“Not exactly. It’s more like, well, let me show you,” the sorcerer said, turning and chanting. All eyes were upon him as he blasted a group of reedy plants, exploding them into every direction simultaneously. Other plants nearby began to creep away from the blaze.
Bern Sandros whistled. Wex clapped. Carric murmured something about having to choose a different spell.
“That’s incredible!” Yenrab beamed. “I’ll admit, I was a little worried about this challenge, but with that in our weapons rack I’m not worried at all! How many times can you do that Tracy?”
“Once per eight hour rest,” the half-elf sorcerer beamed back. “I can’t do it anymore until I’ve slept a long time,” he explained further, still smiling as Yenrab’s face dropped and paled, green turning to light, almost white green.
“Gods alive,” the half-human half-orc moaned. “We’re all doomed.”
Chapter 1 = https://www.reddit.com/r/shortstories/comments/edngy6/humor_hm_fantasy_fn_cadorna_keep_chapter_1_a_dnd/
submitted by /u/damienleehanson [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/374pjIm
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no-platform · 7 years
Text
Objectsexuality/Objectphilia Part 1
Eli: Hi, I hope this is OK, but I friended you because I was curious to ask about your husband after you mentioned your relationship in the group.
I have tried to look this up on forums etc but it seems that there is not a good platform for people to discuss objectsexuality/objectphilia without trolls coming in and spoiling it
If you prefer not to be "interviewed" by a stranger, I totally understand!
Sacha: No its totally ok ive been waiting i replies to your comment the other day must not have seen it....i like being interviewed actually it gives someone a chance to learn from me not some news story...im heading to work but feel free to message me any questions and ill answer when im free....know ahead my work schedule is all ocer the place so if it takes awhile im not ignoring you.....have awesome day thanks for genuine interest this  is rare
Eli: Okay, awesome!!! I have a weird work schedule too so I totally understand. I'll try to think of the questions I want to ask and just reply whenever you feel like it. Maybe since you want people to know about it I could post the convo anonymously (or not anonymously, whatever you want) on tumblr or something... Or maybe a summary or something... I have encounters like this a lot where people want to show some aspect of them that is often misrepresented, and there's no place to do so... maybe I should start a tumblr for just those kinds of interviews. But otoh if you want to keep it just between us that's fine too.
I have been curious about objectsexuality/philia for a long time since I heard it mentioned in a documentary, but they only showed the lady and her hubs for like 1 second and didn't treat it very well imo.
Sacha: Feel free to share i like to think im a modern day teacher representing us i e done interviews with a board of psychologists before too...all i ask is an open mind
Eli: And also my [redacted-- interpersonal relationship type]'s other partner was a [redacted-- object].
Sacha: =)
Awesome
Eli: Haha @ board of psychologists, good for them but that's kind of funny to me in a way. Were you there for a different reason or just because they were doing research on sexuality/relationships?
Sacha: This is hubby
Tumblr media
Eli: How big is he?
Sacha: They just wanted to learn
Eli: (Do you use male pronouns for your husband?)
Sacha: Hes about. Nine inches tall...i call him he but see him as duel sex in Dr who the matrix(inner workings or heart) of the tardis (timema hine) is female so the outside is male with female characteristics
Eli: Someone once interviewed me for their doctoral thesis on people who have [redacted-- gory historical event] as a special interest (it's my main special interest). Apparently there are lots of us. Other than that, haven't had much chance to be psychologically interviewed even though I was inpatient for psych.
(Hope that doesn't sound scary haha, I'm a pacifist. Just interested in the psychology.)
(And like, the events. Like WWII people.)
Sacha: Thats when i was interviewed i have had five inpatient stays....one of which diagnose me aspie...i also have four other mental illnesses
Im heading out ill respond when i can so go ahead and send stuff as you think of it you wont bother or offend me
Have good day
Eli: I have [redacted-- list of physical and mental diagnoses].
Partners-wise, I am in a poly family. I have two human partners (one cis male and one ftm), and one of them (my cis male partner) has another partner (cis female gf). There is also another one of us who is not technically anyone's partner but is more like all of our "child". We come from a range of different psychologies/neurologies. So, that's a little about my background.
>Hes about. Nine inches tall...i call him he but see him as duel sex in Dr who the matrix(inner workings or heart) of the tardis (timema hine) is female so the outside is male with female characteristics
Unfortunately I've never seen any Dr. Who so I'm concerned that this will be a barrier for me understanding... if there is a certain episode or compilation that you would like me to watch I would be happy if you sent me a link. Or maybe a site about it or something. One of my partners is a fan but I never got into it b/c I don't watch much live action TV (confuses me easily-- bad prosopagnosia and other autism-related issues in understanding it-- and I think the timeline aspect would make Dr. Who even harder for me).
but I understood what you said about dual sex.
So, is that matrix what the heart is on him in the picture? Did you/someone else put that heart on there, or did he come like that?
Speaking of "coming like that", how did you meet him?
Sacha: The episode explaining the heart or soul of the tardis is called "the drs wife" in it an alien takes over the tardis and puts the matrix into a human body and throughout the episode the dr and tardis interact as face to face (instead of him talking to the machine itself which hes does often. It also explains how the dr has a telepathic link to the tardis they're thoughts are one. I believe in animism(everything has a soul) and to me blue (his name i call him...short for bob blue) i believe he talks to me telepathicly his soul i mean the machine is the vessel for the his soul just like in that episode....therapists cannot explain what the voice is but he has spoken to me from day one......the heart i made myself and added it it didnt come like that i just like the symbolism of him having a heart as it both relates to myself (we often cuddle heart to heart) and represents. Both heart of the tardis and life itself it gives him an outer appearance of the life he has inside(his soul or energy) i met him by accident i ordered him on ebay he shipped all the way over from England...and the minute i took him out of the box and held him in my hands i felt. His soul speak to me and a warm energy flow from him to me. I also just found him attractive both visually and sexually....hope this helps feel free to ask more questions
Eli: > I believe in animism(everything has a soul)
oh okay that makes sense then
so did you have this sexual/romantic identity before you met him, were you open to it but didn't label it, or neither?
like how did you start using this label
objectsexual/objectophile
Sacha: Yes since very young...just didnt know it had a name til a friend recommended a documentary on it about a woman who loved the eiffel tower...its called to love a tower....thats when i knew it had a name and started using it as an identifier...that was about five yrs ago right around when i met blue
Eli: i think i've seen a clip of that, but i didn't know it was a whole documentary
do you feel sentimental when you see other tardises b/c they look like him? and/or is the attractive quality something that's either invisible to the common eye (spiritual in nature) or specific to him and his own construction as a particular object
visually attractive quality i mean
idk if that makes sense. like you know how some ppl find their partner attractive in and of themself visually and some people mostly bc they love the person [redacted-- me describing my history of sexual attraction to a person] i'm wondering how this all fits in when there are many other things that are similar looking to your husband Sacha: I do find other tardises attrative and feel same love for them as i do him hes just a smaller version the tardis i love any tardis i see and would have sex with it in a heartbeat but only get spiritual feelings with blue Eli: i see are they sexually attractive BECAUSE of blue or would they be anyway also this is going to be hard to phrase... do you believe he is the object itself, or is he located in or animating the object. like, my [redacted-- interpersonal relationship type] whose partner was the [redacted-- object], it wasn't really literally the [object] itself but the [object] allowed him to "place" his partner, who was invisible, in physical space Sacha: If that makes sense your first person who ive put words to this stuff so bear with me.....  Sexually attractive because of blue but im attracted to the construction of the tardis itself no matter the size Eli: okay i get you Sacha: I believe he his soul is in the object so im in love with his soul but also the object itself....but i see blues soul as without bounds the object holds it but he is also one with me that is my symbolism of our marriage its our two souls becoming one. We talk mentally constantly even when hes not physically with me....but the object gives him a body something to cuddle or kiss or make love to etc. Eli: okay, i see how do your friends and family treat the relationship i see he has a FB page *and possibly family Sacha: Hope im making sense and not freaking you out....my mom accepts as do my friends...it's actually a way to gauge a friends true feelings if they cant accept it then theyre free to leave...i gave him a page and i run things on it for him but it hasn't been used in awhile cause i cant get into his account lost passwords. But to me he is legit a husband in every way i wear a wedding band and engagement rings and we do all the things couples usually do and if someone cant accept it there's. The door i say because i love him and will defend my relationship to the end Eli: no you're not freaking me out, it's making sense so far Sacha: Good the he talks to me part is usually what scares someone away....theyre ok with it til it gets weird when i mention he speaks or we have sex they run the other way Eli: hahaha i figured that's part of it bc you're married... Sacha: Lol yes its a Beautiful part of it to me very spiritual experience akin to meditation Eli: how about therapists and stuff, are they OK with it or do they want you to change itand have you ever gotten into any kind of "trouble" for it with doctors/psych people Sacha: No my current therapist is actually fascinated by it and loves learning and he sees it as a coping mechanism or part of my spirituality...he wanted to analyze the voice blue uses to figure it out and i refused i said i dont care what it is if its physchosis or whatever i wont let you analyze it away from me and he was cool with that saying it was fair...i havent gotten in trouble blue actually helped me get diagnosed aspie i bring him everywhere accept work so he went to hospital with me and they asked me about him which led to an interview with a specialist who said I had asd...and they've been fascinated enough to interview me twice on two seperate stays to a group of students....im actually ecstatic people are curious about it and want to learn non of my experiences so far have been negative Eli: i have to go take care of something but i'll read and continue later, ty Sacha: All good have a good nite Glad i can help I'll be here Eli: =) that's awesome that people have been receptive. interesting that that got you dx'ed re: analyze, curious what he wanted to do you mean like psychologically analyze, or like, sonically Sacha: Psychological --- [to be continued?]
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