#(from here on i talk about the second two because the first is now irrelevant)

[spirirsstuff]

ughhhh why can’t songs be good the entire way through

[carriedawatermelon]

Doing some little kinktober ficlets because why not. Please find the first installment of soft Ronance filth, which in this case is not actually that filthy, below.

Prompt: Seven Minutes in Heaven

Someone bumps into Nancy for about the hundredth time, a shoulder jostling her own near the wall of the living room, which Nancy uses to brace herself. At least the girl—Megan, third grade, sixth grade, a few years of ballet and most recently, second period US history—apologizes, genuinely. 

“Sorry, Nancy. Too many people.”

“Too many people,” Nancy agrees and tries for a smile, which maybe works as she gets one in return. 

And there are too many people, and there’s too much noise, and Nancy knows the occasional, protesting throbbing behind her eyes is going to become a full-fledged headache soon, but still, she stays. She stays and makes her way successfully out of the living room and into the kitchen. It’s still too crowded but only with people moving through, grabbing beer and whatever godawful punch is on the counter as they pass into the backyard or the living room or the den, where a whole other mass of bodies has congregated to talk and flirt and try to pretend like this is a normal week-before-graduation party. 

It’s why she’s still here, that last part. Because it’s the week before graduation, and she’d been sitting with Hopper and Steve talking logistics two days ago and realized that the enthusiastically offered invitation from Becky, who like Megan, she’d known for most of her life and also hardly knew at all, would be the last one she ever got. Shit, she’d thought, absently correcting Hopper’s patrol map to accommodate for the newest construction. Shit, this is it. 

She’d had that thought many times over the last few years, in a life-or-death way. It was jarring, to have it in the way she was supposed to, in the way that pretty much every other teenager in Hawkins and if John Hughes was right, everywhere else in America, had it, too. 

“Steve, switch with me for Friday,” she’d said, and he’d done it, and now Nancy is leaning against a kitchen counter, wincing as something lukewarm soaks through the back of her pale yellow button-down and watching as her classmates do exactly what they should be doing the week before summer break. 

She doesn’t feel angry that they’re pretending, the way she had with Steve. Well. She does feel angry. She always feels angry. But for the most part, it’s not with the people around her. For the most part, it’s on their behalf. On Barb’s behalf. On her own, even, when she can let herself. 

They’ve all suffered. They’re the ones who stayed or came back, the crowded party at this point consisting of most of what remains of Hawkins High, grade irrelevant. Nobody is trying to kick anyone out, and nobody’s policing the door. 

As of about two weeks ago, curfew had been lifted. Officially, the army finally managed to secure the area after the earthquake. Unofficially, El had demolished a weakened Vecna, the party offering her backup in the real world and the upside-down and the space in between. The work that’s left is still left, but it’s eliminating stragglers and maintaining vigilance, and El and Will both have a kind of ease and confidence that makes the rest of them feel hopeful, that made Nancy feel like she could switch a patrol shift to Steve to go to a party. 

“Nancy,” someone shouts from the door of the kitchen. Ally, eyes bright with a plastic cup in one hand, shakes her shoulders. “Come play spin the bottle.”

In a small mercy, she’s being dragged toward the den before Nancy is forced to provide an answer, laughing an “Okay, okay, okay!” 

In a bigger mercy, her body is replaced by one that makes Nancy’s shoulders relax, a genuine smile break across her face. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to sneak out back and smoke, but I’d hate to stop you from a game of spin the bottle with Hawkins High’s most eligible bachelors.”

Robin’s grin is big, her hands shoved into the pockets of her black jeans, an oversized green t-shirt tucked into the front under...Nancy’s favorite jean jacket. 

“Thief!” 

Robin’s grin grows. “Fair’s fair.”

And, well, Nancy can’t exactly argue. Robin’s black jacket is in her possession—currently neatly folded in the passenger seat of Nancy’s car—where it’s been since about two weeks after their first encounter with Vecna and where Nancy intends for it to remain until…until. 

She scowls anyway, pushing back from the counter and making her way to Robin, who stiffens for a second at Nancy’s hug before relaxing into it, wrapping her arms around Nancy’s shoulders and holding her close. The jacket smells like the detergent her mom uses and a little like Nancy’s perfume, but underneath is all Robin, lavender and cloves and the cigarettes her mom smokes. She can smell weed, too, and she pulls back a little to look up at Robin, who’s looking down at her with a faint blush. 

When Robin told her, fingers twisting and face paler than usual on the couch in her basement, that she likes girls, she’d put herself as physically far from Nancy as possible in the shared space. Nancy, heart broken as she listened to halting, stuttering sentences so far from the Robin she had grown used to, had tentatively scooted closer, lifting an arm in offer. Robin had hesitated for a second and then collapsed into her, crying while Nancy reassured her. Now, with Nancy’s constant encouragement, she’s getting better about touch, about initiating it and accepting it.

Of course, it is different now, but that’s Nancy’s fault. That’s because Nancy, as she has let herself admit for the past six or so weeks with increasing acceptance, wants to kiss her. She hasn’t yet and doesn’t now, but she does reach down and lace their fingers, tugging Robin toward the sliding door to the back. 

“There’s a Robin/robber pun here somewhere but I can’t quite get there,” she admits, happy to see that the crowd of their peers thins significantly after the deck.

Robin snorts, follows easily as Nancy begins pulling them past small groups of people and toward the grass. It makes her bristle, still, the relative quiet in the largely dark yard, and Robin squeezes her fingers like she understands, because she does. The house and the summer night give enough light to navigate well enough, and Nancy has her eyes on a set of lawn chairs that seem to have been abandoned by a group now moving back toward the house, but as she moves toward them Robin stops her. 

Her grin is pulled up at the side as she looks from Nancy to a tree with a tire swing and a set of boards nailed to its trunk. Nancy sighs, and Robin moves toward them, grinning, letting go of Nancy’s hand to pull at the steps and look up at the tree house. 

“Robin. No.”

“What?” She says, in a terrible attempt at guilelessness. 

“You know what.”

“I don’t.” She says easily. “I don’t know what.”

She shades her eyes like that’ll help her see in the dark, and Nancy rolls her own, stomach swooping with affection, before reaching into her bag and pulling out a flashlight. 

When it clicks on, Robin looks back at her and bites her lip. “Nancy Wheeler. The Boy Scouts have got nothing on you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy says, like she isn’t about to indulge a terrible idea. “Investigation purposes, only, Buckley. We didn’t survive the upside-down so you could break yourself climbing a tree.”

“Totally, totally,” Robin responds, like she doesn’t know Nancy is about to indulge her terrible idea. “I’m just gonna investigate these first few steps and, uh…” When the first two hold, she looks down at Nancy happily and keeps climbing. 

“You have no sense of self-preservation,” she calls after her. “Ms. Delayed Walker.”

When she reaches the platform at the top, she pouts down at Nancy, features a blend of shadows in the strange light. “That’s really rude, Nance. I think you should come apologize.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nancy says, already on the second plank, flashlight shining up from where she’s tucked it vertically in her purse. It catches Robin’s grin, and Nancy stares, feels like she’s falling with her hands securely gripped on the wood. Robin’s not the only one who’s ridiculous. 

She pulls herself into the plank next to Robin, who wraps an arm around her waist. It’s reflex maybe, because the platform is small, and Nancy sees the flash of panic across her face so she leans into Robin’s body before she can pull away, hand moving to hold Robin’s against her. 

“If we fall out of a tree before graduation, I’m going to be so pissed at you.”

Robin laughs, squeezing her, and then begins scooting back, Nancy releasing her so she can make her way into the little house behind them. For all her talk, she wouldn’t be up here if she didn’t think it were sturdy. The climbing planks are relatively new, wood stained and smoothed against splinters, so she suspected the house would be, too, and she’s pleased to find that she’s right.

It’s big for a tree house, and tall enough that Nancy can almost stand comfortably, bent just a little to explore, fingers on the cross beams below the roof so she doesn’t bump her head. There’s a little table shoved into one corner, a window in each wall where she can see that the little platform they landed on extending around the house like a porch. When she turns around, Robin has made herself comfortable on some cushions against the back wall, a pink floral print that looks like maybe it was stolen from lawn furniture. She has a joint in one hand and pats the seat next to her before reaching into her pocket (Nancy’s pocket) for a lighter. 

There’s a lantern hanging from a hook near her head, two candles inside and Robin lights them as Nancy clicks off the flashlight and settles, close enough that their knees touch. Robin hands her the joint but keeps the lighter, and Nancy bumps her shoulder as she lights it. 

“Such a gentleman,” she says, before inhaling, and Robin rolls her eyes but blushes. 

Nancy doesn’t cough, though it’s still sometimes a close thing, the weed a post-Vecna addition to her life. It helps her relax and it doesn’t make her feel bad the way drinking does and it’s given her some of her favorite nights, sitting around smoking and talking and watching movies with Steve and Robin and Eddie and sometimes Jon or Vickie. 

She passes the joint back, and props herself back against the wall, lets herself look at the girl next to her as they smoke together for a little while, making aimless conversation. There’s something undeniably attractive about watching Robin smoke, the shape of it between her lips and the way they move as she pulls, the smoke that she exhales slowly, eyes exploring the little house. 

Eventually, Nancy asks, “How’re you feeling about next week?”

“Eh,” Robin offers along with another hit, which Nancy takes. “Weird. Fine. Nervous. Excited.” She brings her eyes back to Nancy, who smiles at her. “How ‘bout you?”

“Eh,” she echoes, and Robin pokes her gently. She’s warm, this close to Nancy, and she wants more, scoots closer, takes her hand and twines their fingers. Twirling the thick silver ring around Robin’s index finger, she feels Robin’s breath stutter, her own breath escaping with a happy sigh at their proximity. Robin mutes the joint and sets it against a Coke can. “Fine, I think. I feel good about what’s coming. Good about Chicago.” She squeezes at Robin’s fingers and Robin squeezes back. “Good about Chicago with you. I’m ready, I think. It’s not like…I didn’t exactly love,” she stops playing with the ring for a second and gestures out toward the yard, the house, “all of this. High school. You know.”

“Yeah,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

Nancy presses closer, drops Robin’s hand in favor of wrapping it around her under her (Nancy’s) jacket, bullying her way into her side until Robin wraps an arm around her shoulders, laughing, thumb running a gentle up and down against her arm as they settle. 

“The ending hasn’t been so bad,” Robin says, pauses. 

Nancy can’t help but repeat, stoned and uncertain she’s heard correctly, “The ending hasn’t…” She can’t even finish, her voice cracking on what surely is a joke, and then they’re both cackling, clutching each other. 

“Dingus,” Nancy gasps, mostly in Robin’s lap now, and Robin groans. 

“I am. I’m a total dingus. ‘The ending hasn’t been so bad,’” she repeats, mocking herself, and Nancy tucks her head into her neck, laughing, Robin’s arms tight around her waist. “That’s what I get for trying to be smooth, I guess.” And then she shuts up so fast Nancy hears her jaw click. 

And maybe Nancy should be nervous, but instead all she feels is immensely pleased. “Oh?” She says, voice teasing as she pulls herself away, adjusting until she’s straddling Robin’s thighs. Robin looks terrified and also can’t stop staring at Nancy’s legs where they now bracket her own, eyes flitting between Nancy’s and their laps. Her hands are hovering at her sides, fingers opening and closing around nothing, and Nancy takes pity, full of smug affection as she takes them and puts them on her thighs. 

The noise Robin makes is something between a groan and a whimper, and it makes Nancy more than a little feral. 

“Trying to put the moves on me, Buckley?” She doesn’t try to hide the want in her voice as she lets her own hands settle on Robin’s neck, thumbs tracing the corners of her jaw. 

Robin finally holds her gaze, fingers spreading and squeezing at Nancy’s thighs. Nancy shivers. Robin squeezes harder. 

“Nancy.”

Robin’s lips are warm and waxy, the last of the vanilla chapstick she likes clinging on through their smoking. It’s perfect; she’s perfect, hands climbing to Nancy’s waist, where she holds her steady as she deepens the kiss, the taste of weed and lemonade and Robin filling Nancy up. 

“Nancy,” Robin says when they pull away, voice breathy. “What’s happening right now?”

The affection Nancy feels is almost violent, it’s so overwhelming, and she lets herself kiss Robin again, hard and quick. “Well,” she says. “You attempted one of the worst lines I’ve ever heard.” She keeps her tone teasing, and Robin closes her eyes and groans, head thudding against the wooden wall behind her. 

Nancy tsks, and Robin blinks open her eyes, blush in full force in the candlelight. She’s fucking gorgeous. 

“And it worked,” she says primly, moving a hand to Robin’s sternum, flattening her palm and feeling her breathe before tugging at the lapel of her (Nancy’s) jacket. “Because it appears I like you so much that I’m willing to overlook things like thievery and terrible come ons.” 

“You…you like me so much that…” And then she’s kissing Nancy again, less gently, and Nancy sighs approvingly, sucking at Robin’s bottom lip. Robin’s mouth moves to her neck, her hands shifting to Nancy’s hips to urge her closer, and she goes easily, moving a hand into Robin’s hair and moaning as her tongue and then her teeth find a spot that makes her hips cant.

“Fuck, Rob.” 

She pulls away, gasping, hands flexing on Nancy’s hips. 

“Do you…do you want…” She shakes her head, eyes closing, and Nancy kisses her gently. 

“I want to date you,” she says, watching as Robin’s eyes snap open. “I want to hold your hand while you talk to me about whatever the movie of the day is, and I want to fix your collars and leave lipstick on your cheek when I kiss you goodbye, and I want to ask you to stay over and have you know exactly what I mean.” 

“Yeah?” 

Her voice is small, almost scared, and Nancy channels as much love as she can into her own as she says, brushing a thumb over a beautiful cheekbone, “Yeah. Is that something you could want, too?”

“Yes.” A hand cups Nancy’s jaw. “I want that so much, Nance. I can’t even…I want you so much. I’m…it’s…” She laughs, running a hand through her hair. Nancy misses it. “Sorry, um, sorry. I just, I really can’t believe this is happening. Holy shit.” Her smile is wide, her eyes bright. “Nancy Wheeler wants to date me.”

Nancy laughs, tucks her hair back. She feels the flush in her own face and doesn’t hate it, for once. “Yeah, I really do.”

“You’re beautiful,” Robin says, and bites her lip. “Is that…I think it all the time, you know. Like, all the time. Like, yesterday when you got mad at that guy for turning without his blinker, and you made this face, and your lips did this thing, and all I could think was how gorgeous you were. And then tonight, when I showed up and you were leaning against the counter, and I could tell you were trying to figure out how you were gonna say no to Ally, you know, you have this, like, thinking face, and God, Nancy, all I wanted was to press you back against the counter and…”

She stops, catching herself, but Nancy wants none of that. “And what, Robbie?” She takes Robin’s hand and puts it back on her hip, greedy and pleased as she watches Robin’s eyes grow big, feels her fingers flex. “What did you want to do?”

She moans into the kiss, into the grip of Robin’s hands, letting her hips roll into the body pressed against hers. When her mouth moves to her neck again, kissing and sucking, Nancy throws her head back and holds Robin close. 

Hands move from her hips to the buttons of her shirt, tentative, and this had probably been the conversation Robin wanted to have earlier, about what Nancy wanted.

It takes an incredible amount of willpower but she manages to pull back, panting, tilting Robin’s face to meet hers. Because Nancy will absolutely let Robin fuck her in this treehouse, but Robin’s a virgin, and she deserves better than cramping hands with their clothes still on. Nancy has plans. 

“Come home with me.”

“Okay,” Robin agrees immediately, head bobbing eagerly, and Nancy grins, kissing her gently.

They tidy themselves as best they can, hands untangling as they reach the house again, and the party’s still in full swing, loud and bright and smelling like cheap beer and fruit punch. 

They pass by the group playing spin the bottle on their way out, a series of shouts coalescing into a chant as a couple is sent off to the closet for seven minutes in heaven. 

Robin shakes her head. “Nightmare,” she says under her breath, and Nancy laughs. 

“I don’t know.” She grins at Robin and uses the crowd as an excuse to grab her hand again, keep her close. “I feel like you’d find lots of jackets to steal.”

She doesn’t need to see her to know her eyes are rolling. “I would bet 20 of Steve’s dollars that my jacket will be in the passenger seat of your car when we get there. The hypocrisy is heavy, Nance.” 

“So, what?” She shrugs as they break through the front door, making their way to Nancy’s car up the block. “I like wearing my girlfriend’s jacket.”

It’s quiet, and Nancy’s worried for a second that she’s overstepped, but when she looks, she finds Robin staring at her with heat in her eyes, her jaw set. 

“I bet,” Robin says, looking around and keeping close to Nancy, voice low, “I bet you’d look great in that jacket and nothing else.”

Nancy swallows, stops as they reach the car. “Wanna find out?”

[unsweetingtea]

The Sonic Movie 3 trailer came out and it is awesome!

I know it came out a week or so ago and I might be late into talking about it but rest assured I watched it 30 minutes after it came out.

I decided to start talking about it now because I want to put in my two cents about a certain topic.

At some point in the trailer we get this image of Tom:

He’s screaming “Sonic!!” and then it immediately flashes to this image of Shadow:

There is also this interaction with Sonic and Shadow:

“What did you do?”

“What I had to.”

First of all, f🤬cking aura Shadow, holy sh💩t. That “what I had to” sent shivers to me timbers.

Second of all, why I’m making this post:

This has led people to believe that Shadow might harm Tom in some way or even killing him.

And I don’t think that is true.

Do I think that they might tussle around? Yeah. Do I think Shadow will straight up assassinate him? Hell no!

CONTINUE UNDER THE CUT ⬇️

Now, I have seen people believe it and draw it but more as like a “this is a cool alternative but I don’t actually think it would happen”, but then there are others who genuinely believe that Shadow is going to kill Tom.

While there is nothing wrong with believing that, it raises a problem for Shadow’s overall character.

We all know Shadow is just misunderstood. Especially from Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails. Keep in mind that they are working with the very people that killed Maria—a little girl, Shadow’s best friend, and they have no idea 😀

I feel like if Sonic finds out about it, then there will definitely be conversations yet to happen, and not very friendly ones.

I kinda think this might be an image of Sonic looking around the Ark. Maybe this is when he finds out? However, that is not something I can really prove:

One thing I will say: even though if we were in Shadow’s position and we might try to kill humanity too, I think we should all acknowledge that even though we can understand him it doesn’t mean we should agree with the path he has walked down on.

Anyway, Shadow = misunderstood. Got it. That is all a story for another time, I’m still here for something else.

I think we can all agree that Shadow has been through a lot, and I think some of the games do him justice for the way he makes up for his actions; finding out who is he is and honoring Maria’s wish, sacrificing himself and falling down to earth, going against Black Doom’s wishes, fighting Memphis, saving Sonic (multiple times), him and Team Dark, the Archie comics, and more.

We’re gonna ignore the Boom!Shadow for this one boys. He’s irrelevant. (lol)

While Shadow and Sonic aren’t friends or enemies, they’re by each others side to do the right thing. All Shadow wanted to do was the right thing and at the time he believed it was killing humanity.

I think what I’m trying to say is that Shadow has done some villainy sh💩t under the influence of what people showed him back to the accident of the Ark. However, he is not a bad guy and he doesn’t deserve to be the bad guy.

If they do this, if Shadow kills Tom, he will be an irredeemable monster to Sonic and even to me, and Shadow doesn’t deserve that treatment.

I don’t want to look at Movie!Shadow knowing that he killed an amazing character and the father to Sonic.

I also want to say, that when Sonic is talking to Shadow and asks him what he did, he sounds mad but he doesn’t sound mad enough to the point of Tom’s death kind of mad. Sonic would be f🤬cking furious. He would fr say “screw the power of friendship I’m about to END this B🐶TCH”.

I can’t say for certain that Tom isn’t going to die, but I really don’t think and want to believe that Shadow is going to be the one to kill Tom.

Like I said before, it’s tragic for what happened to him but we shouldn’t justify the path he’s walking on. Killing Tom is no excuse either.

I just don’t want to be disappointed. I have been looking forward for this movie for too long. I really just want Shadow to be the sweet little anti-hero he truly is.

While I’m here, I wanna circle back around to Tom screaming Sonic’s name. First of all, Tom is in a G.U.N uniform. Either he’s going in disguise or maybe the commander guy whose name I don’t care to remember gave him a position in the G.U.N forces.

In the first Sonic Movie, Maddie did say that there has been a Wachowski serving and protecting for 50 years. The same amount of time Shadow was in a coma. Maybe the commander recognizes Tom’s last name and offers him a position.

Maybe Sonic and co. find out about what they did to Maria and the Ark, and when confronting G.U.N, G.U.N decides to turn on them. Maybe that’s why Tom was screaming Sonic’s name, because he was about to get hurt. Remember, even though Sonic saved the world in the 1st movie, in the 2nd movie G.U.N still believed they would be a threat. Maybe G.U.N is using them in hopes they won’t find out about what happened 50 years ago. They’d be perfect against Shadow, they’re the same species! (Kinda…)

If G.U.N can’t defeat Shadow, maybe another powerful being can.

Anyway, those were my two cents.

Don’t take this post too personally please, if you wanna believe Shadow kills Tom, then by all means go off! I just wanted to show my perspective of things and how I see Shadow as a person.

Remember, opinions are opinions and we shouldn’t devalue anyone’s just because we don’t agree.

Take care! 🫶🏻

[anxious-witch]

Part three of height/stance analysis of DBDA character. This part is about the Cat King, mainly in regard to catwin, but I will briefly touch upon his few scenes with other characters too.

Charles's version, Edwin's version

So, the Cat King another character that take a dominant position in most of his scenes. Immediately, when we meet him, he is sitting on a throne, above Charles, Edwin and Crystal, which is meant to intimidate them and to show off his power over the situation. Focusing on that specifically, now we can notice a pattern-Charles gets lowered when he is feeling helpless, Edwin when he feels out of control and the Cat King when he actually loses the dominant role of the scene, aka the events aren't unfolding as he planned. Which are similar, but not exactly the same, which tells us a lot about each of them.

The Cat King is a magical being of unknow origin, so it makes sense his sense of self is tied into power. From what I noticed, that power comes from either intimidation or desire, or sometimes both.

So let's go back to the first scene where he appears. Crystal and the boys are naturally, intimidated by him, which is further exemplified by the fact that the Cat King doesn't even rise from his chair, and yet keeps his high ground.

When does he rise? When he is about to offer Edwin a private conversation, taking control more directly that way.

But notice the camera angle in this scene. Not only does it not show the Cat King and our trio(because we know very well both Charles and Edwin are physically taller, but it also shows him from a slightly lowered angle of the camera, so he appears bigger. Almost as if he is looming over them. Then, once he and Edwin are alone, we get to this.

The first time where the Cat King looks smaller than Edwin. BUT, take a look at Edwin, who is usually standing oerfectly poised and straight, looming over everyone and everything. Here, he looks almost slightly hunched down instead. But why is the Cat King smaller here, you may ask? Because he is trying to find Edwin's weak spot. He even says here "What should you punishment be?" Only when Edwin counters with "I don't see the harm in one little spell" does the Cat King resume his dominant position.

Looking at this two shots, Edwin looks almost timid, his usual height deemed irrelevant when he is alone in the shot, almost bledning in with the dark background. In contrast, the Cat King is illuminated, appearing bigger and more threatening, further highlighted by his satisfied expression.

This is followed by a scene where CT slaps the bracelet on Edwin.

When the Cat King leans in, die to the angle it looks like he is taller than Edwin. Because he figured Edwin's weak spot-his repressed sexuality. And here, Edwin is giving in to it, giving the Cat King the power to put the caging spell on him.

What I found interesting is that immediately after, the Cat King willingly sits down in his chair, leaving Edwin standing. He seems to work under a careful set of rules so once he brands Edwin with his bracelet, he briefly gives the power back to Edwin, in giving him a choice to give in to his desire. I talked about this in another post here, but the gist of it is that the Cat King forces him to choose between giving in to his desires(accepting his homosexuality) or face his flaw(his dismissivness of creatures and ppl he finds irrelevant to him).

Only when Edwin refuses to reclaim him power in accepting his inital offer does the Cat King rise again and assumes his dominant stance.

Now, let's analyze their second meeting. When Edwin arrives, the Cat King is lounging on the wall, lying down. He is still on a higher ground, but I find it interesting that he again, gives Edwin a chance to reclaim his freedom first. And he does so twice. Firstly, by giving Edwin a chance to tell him how many cats there are, and when he is wrong, to go along with his flirting. And when he doesn't, then the Cat King rises once again.

When he gets close to Edwin, we have, again another shot where CT looks taller. Because Edwin feels out of control when he is around, because he feels small in the face of his own desires. And the Cat King is aware of it.

Now, the firest scene is when things TRULY get interesting. By this point, we see Edwin gain much more confidence in himself and his feelings, partially due to accepting he has feelings for Charles and partially bc of his friendship/situationship with Monty. So when they meet each other in the woods, we get this shot.

Not only is there a very noticable height difference we weren't show before, but the Cat King is actively leaning down, leaning towards Edwin as he reveals Monty's betrayl to him.

Why? Because he realized Edwin was well on his way in winning his game. So here, he is trying to find his footing again, trying to appease Edwin. And I'd say he almost suceeds, because for a brief moment, when he is talking about Edwin owning him a thanks, they are on equal ground, height wise. But then, CT brings up a second kiss and that balance shatters. We get this shot:

Of Edwin cockying his head up and making himself appear taller, despite the camera angle not working in his favor. And of course, we then have Edwin walking away, with the camera showing how small the Cat King is in that moment as he makes his threat. Edwin turns back and then he is the one lowering himself on the Cat King's level to show off the bracelet and remind him that's all that he is to Edwin.

Reminding him that while Edwin can stoop to his level, they are not equal, and that Edwin understands his game now and that he is done with it. He took his power back.

I find the fact that their power dynamics are shifting sm throughout these soo fascinating, honestly. Their rs is so dynamic and it's shown so plainly through who is appearing bigger in that moment. But! Let's shift from catwin for a bit and take a look at another character that manages to be more dominant in a scene with the Cat King. Which is, of course, Esther.

Cat King tries his usual approach with her, with him sitting on his throne and not paying attention to her entering, but Esther clearly doesn't fall for that intimidation tactic, instead grabbing him by the throat and forcing him in a position where she is in control. It's not only violent, it feels almost degrading, given the way she does it and given what we know of the Cat King thus far.

And the thing is, even when he escapes her grip, he relinquishes the power to her, leaving her up on his throne while he is left standing down next to it, as people who usually visit him do.

I don't think I need to get into her literally killing him with her cane, and how he is literally at his lowest when he is lying on the floor. And even when he is resurrected, from then on, he seems noticably smaller in every other instance he appears in. Like he lost a fraction of his power. And even when he snarls at Esther and tell her to keep her hands off Edwin, the shot he is in purposefully makes the warehouse seem much bigger around him, while the shot of Esther is much closer up. Because she is a more threatening figure here now.

When Crystal and Niko come looking for his help, at first he appears behind them, as if he had to sneak in to his own warehouse. He gets back on his uplifted position later, when he does decide to help them and when he realizes he holds the power of having the information they want. But notice how he orders them to sit, so he can loom over them more. I'd guess that he has been made aware of his own vulnerability and powerlessness by Esther and he tries desperately to reclaim it in that moment.

Which is why his last scene with Edwin is so impactful! They have both been irreparably changed by circumstances. Where Edwin now stands taller, his confidence and power regained, Cat King looks almost comically tiny in comparison!

Look at that wide shot of the alley! Edwin's height is not only shown fully, it's amplified, and the Cat King's tight fitting clothes are making him seem even smaller and more vulnerable here.

Because in that moment, the illusion is fully shattered. Edwin calls CT out on his own loneliness and they are both aware he lost the game, because he is the one that fell for Edwin and he has nothing to keep him with anymore. But Edwin has grown too. He doesn't gloat in his power and in fact, when he kisses Cat King's cheek, he lowers himself on his eye level, so they are equals once more, in that brief moment. This time not doing it to hurt the Cat King, but rather to show affection and forgivness. He understands him now and he holds all the power.

Honestly, if we get a Cat King reappearance in S2, I'd love to see how their relationship would change. They are the ones whose relationship is the most dynamic and it's constantly about who will gain the upper hand.

As always, if anyone has anything to add/think I forgot something, olease feel free to add it

[salvagesmha]

Altering the Final War's Battlefields

With the series done, one of the few things that took me until now to get to was basically a bit of a revamp of the Second War battlefields.

The problem with them in the long run for me is that, LOV members aside, there was just...no other major villain established in those fields to really give a shit about or really have a sense of dread about.

One of the major differences between the 1st and 2nd War is that, regardless of how you feel about the results of the 1st War, waltzing into it you understood that the Villains were very credible, established threats.

The League of Villains and their upgraded powers, the MLA top brass and knowing what havoc just one of them could do, the High End Nomus that lay in waitin production thanks to Ujiko, Gigantomachia being a living disaster, 100K soldiers who we know should be on par with regular Heroes from training and have put the LOV on the backfoot. YMMV on how the 1st War turned out, but walking in there was some solid anticaption and intrigue in how these elements would be used....

The Second War does not have that. Why? Because Horikoshi kinda just...gutted the PLF and didn't reaaaaaaallly bring suitable, built-up replacements for them?

High Ends that have personality and can think? Nope, back to just the dumbass Nomus who are just rampaging monsters...that's it.

The PLF soldiers? Literally just 100 people now and, even then, the jailbreakers they got to replace them are just...well, nothing, like I talked about here.

The top brass of the LOV/PLF? Most who could provide interesting fights or intrigue were taken away for just Skeptic...whose regulated back 'hackerman' only.

Replacing them are either AFO's Assassins or Advisors who are just ether not developed at all or just came in too late, beaten too quick and used too little to care about. Thus, it really makes them feel totally irrelevent to the other stuff going around during the war.

For all the talk of the Heroes being at a disadvantage, it certainly did not feel so with just...6 of the bad guys out of a hundred or so people would really care about.. As such, my list below is basically having major Villains take the spots of the Jailbreakers/Advisors as 'Bosses' of their fields so as to give each place a solid Villain to get invested in. In addition, also adding in more returning Villains to help make each place to feel 'alive' in a sense.

If you wanna see how I'd use the Advisors, for the most part (there's a few changes here), look here.

Central Hospital:

This is the most blatant change I feel works for the story better is Trumpet being the ‘Boss’ (or well, one of the Bosses) of Central Hospital. One of the issues in the that battle came about from Disgustus being shoved into two contradictory roles. The first, up until the midway through the battle, is an advocate of mutants that seemed to be genuinely hurt and bitter from the discrimination he’s implied to have gotten (as evidence by his scar)...except then we get to the second half. Which has his internal thoughts filled with how the PLF were just using the mob they gathered as tools and makes him just cartoonishly corrupt. 

Instead of him being forced into both, I think a good idea would have been for Trumpet to take the reigns as the corrupt leader, acting as a false sympathizer for the Heteromorphs, and Disgustus to remain as a genuine, if disdainful extremist. It gives a mook of the PLF more depth since it reminds the audience that a lot of the Villains walked down the path due to rough lives, and allows for their still to be a scummy Villain still to stop. Heck, I feel using Trumpet as the Boss also just makes some of the plot feel more coherent, since he can use his Quirk to not only boost the mob, but make them too frenzied up to really listen or notice something being off (like Spinner clearly being out of it due to the additional Quirks) or notice him clearly covering his ass.

In this case, it’s Shoji and Koda beating Trumpet that could allow for the mob splinter to really begin and stall, with the pig guy’s group merely being the final blow to crack the facade for good. As for Disgustus and the rest of Spinner’s crew, they can be defeated right before they could enter the hospital. Something that hurts Shoji and the others badly enough that the mob genuinely could have killed them if not for pig guy. Heck, to help with this option, I also raise Chimera from movie 2 to return, acting as extra muscle for the crowd and, given his own experience being discriminated against, be another pillar of change get the crowd motivated. While Shoji loses the first encounter against Chimera, this second time, he barely manages to defeat him and is in danger of being killed when help arrives.

On a minor note, more of the USJ crew returns, mainly the Heteromorphic side as well, perhaps trying to spread the idea that, from the beginning, the League of Villains was just trying to raise awareness and change…even though that was very much not the case XD

Boss: Spinner, Trumpet

Jailbreaker: Chimera

Advisors: Spinner’s Advisors

Return: Steel Bulwark, Invisible Wall, Chomper, Greedy Gaping Jaw

Okuto Island

Given this is Toga’s battlefield, there’s not quite too many changes I’d make here. I think the most blatant that could be done is make Moonfish, whose acting as the ‘Jailbreaker’ for the Okuto Villains, more prominent. If Kunieda and Gashly are allowed to wipe out or fend off multiple Heroes, than a guy whose supposed to be on par with them should really be allowed to cut loose and be more of a massive thorn for their side. Plus, since I also think League members should at least get at least a significant send-off, I think Tsu being the one to take him down would be a good way of giving her something major to do. In this case, Tsu uses her wits and camouflage to bait Moon into being more careless with his attacks. Something that leads to him leaving himself open to being stunned by her poison mucus before being knocked out.

Another change I’d make is including Eleph from the High Ends on this battlefield. I think it’d hit the point home how much of a gamble splitting hte Villains up from each other was, as there was always a chance one Villain could have a real advantage wherever they got sent to. In this case, Eleph’s quirk allowed him to suck in water to make fierce hydro attacks at his foes. 

On a lesser note, I’m also for Hanzo Suiden/USJ water thug to add to his mayhem since it should have been high priority for that water fucker to at do something threatening given that battlefield was his advantage. Perhaps’s he’s teaming up with Eleph to help boost the Nomu’s attacks? 

Likewise, for the Advisors section, I’m all for Toga having her #1 Advisor at the scene to help add to the pressure of Okuto.

Boss: Toga

Jailbreaker: Moonfish

Return: Hanzo Suiden, Minotaurus

Nomu: Eleph

Advisors: Toga’s #1 Advisor 

Kamino Ward:

Given that the purpose of this place is that it doesn’t have any Major Jailbreakers, only real major tweak I would make for this is that Ribby replaces the NHE here. I think it’d be fitting if the High End assigned to Dabi was also an ax-crazy killer Nomu that wouldn’t give a shit to being set on fire and is just enjoying the chaos of the War. SImilar to the anime, Ida’s attacks with Ribby, alongside someone like Burnin, are what eventually gets him to go down.

Honestly, I’d probably include Starservant and Ending since both were Dabi’s grunts during the EA arc, and it’d be nice for them to assist their boss once more. Plus, both fit the theme of being crazed Villains unconcerned for their lives, like the other two above as well. Not that I think they’d be a major help, but it’d give some familiar faces the audience would recognize and help care more about the battlefields beyond just the final Boss taking up a major focus.

Boss: Dabi

Nomu: Ribby

Return: Starservant, Ending, Sharkyonara (RIP poor bastard), One-Eyed Green Dragon, Sickle Claw

Advisor: Dabi’s 1st ranker

Jaku Ruins:

To take the place of Skully of the Jaku Ruins battlefield, I raise you Geten. Honestly, I think this is the most natural choice as the Face of Jaku Ruins given how Skully shares Geten’s ‘Quirk Makes Right’ mindset and I think it’d hit more for Mina trying to reason with Geten about how both were fighting for their fallen mentors (in this case Re-Destro) than her trying to resonate with a character who hasn’t really been given his due at all. It’d especially hit harder given RD is basically Geten’s Dad too, so ice boy’s attempts at freeing Machia is coming from a placed of enraged love like Mina had.

As the Jailbreaker of Jaku, I raise Slice as being the sort, mostly to act as a villain against Mina, and would be in a similarm indset to geten about trying to avenge a loss loved one + getting payback on Mina while she was at it since it was her acid that cost her the first fight.

Likewise, in this case, all three of Geten’s Advisors + Dabi’s #2, will be at Jaku. Skully is there to work with Bindi Girl into creating gas that’ll keep their forces safe. Geten’s #3 can probably utter his mammonist line from overhearing about the Heroes plot, and be apart from the first wave of the Jaku villain forces to intercept the Heroes (before being taking out fairly easily - he’s No. 3 for a reason after all). As for Geten’s #1…well, he’’ likely just be there for Geten to bounce ideas off and defend the Commander against enemy attacks.

Now, on the returning Villain side, I’m surprised Giant Villain wasn’t brought back to rematch Mt. Lady. He’ll not be as strong as her, but he can keep her busy after she stomped through a good number of their guys. And, like in canon, Sludge Villain can stay and do his thing. Also, as apart of the first wave, Teruo’s here…to probably be one-shot immediately again, but he will be there XD

Boss: Geten

Jailbreaker: Slice

Return: Sludge Villain, Giant Villain, Teruo Hazakashi (Naked Guy), Axer, Stitched Giant

Advisors: Geten’s Advisors, Dabi’s #2 Advisor

Troy Parking Lot

Now this is one of the trickier locations since it’s pretty just one of the ‘spares’ of the battle. But, ultimately, I think it can work to be something even more meaningful than in canon. In this case, I want Mr. Compress to be left behind here. The support of the League faceing off against pretty much the spares of the Heroes trying to mop up the last of the resistance. Plus, it’s not like Compress doesn’t have a Hero of his own he has beef with. Aoyama was the reason his plan to capture both Bakugo and Tokoyami went screwy, and given Aoyama comes from a rich family that his ancestors would have likely stolen from, well…there’s a lot fun you can have between these two brawling out.

The way I see it, Kunieda makes his plants like in canon, and thanks to Compress’ mask, (alongside several other Villains still remaining that do wear masks of their own or maybe even just Kunieda has control over who he turns into plants) Compress is able to go back to his tree hopping shtick like in the training camp arc and show off his own stealth abilities again. Able to gradually whittle down the Heroes by taking advantage of the foliage to turn those who aren’t plant turned into marbles.

Since there are no Nomu here, the lesser Villains will be made of minor villain gangs, those like Cider House to Team Resvoir Dogs. Stragglers that are really only lasting as long due to Kunieda’s cover and will likely go down after Aoyama/Hagakure’s combo attack.

Boss: Mr. Compress

Jailbreaker: Kunieda

Return:Cider House, Blade Villain/Street Thieves, Reservoir Dogs, Gorilla, Spike

Advisors: Compress #3,

Takoba Stadium:

Honestly, this might sound weird, but Skeptic honestly could have taken Gashly’s place. Gashly’s whole thing is that he spawns minions to outlast others while he himself is in a safe location…

Kinda like Skeptic’s Quirk…or Twice’s…or Toga with Twice’s Quirk (Horikoshi didn’t spend much time on Gashly’s power, let’s be real…). If the main boss of Takoba is just a summoner, than just let Skeptic be badass and not only hack UA’s systems, but also fuck people up via his henchmen too? Heck, you don’t even have to do much to explain how he can do both without issue.

Have him hide somewhere during the chaos…or alternatively? Bring back the Shie Hassaikai guy, Tengai, Barrier and allow Skeptic to camp with in. As for how he can use his set-up at all, have AFO’s spies implant a virus that allows Skeptic access to UA’s systems so that he can safely work his magic in peace…at least up until La Brava stops him. As for how he can fight so well, perhaps have a chapter detailing Skeptic actually bothering to improve his Quirk so that he doesn’t need to use much to create puppets thats can do simple commands, and with access to Detnerat support items, he can effectively spawn more infinitely.

That’s how you can explain Skeptic outlasting the others for so long. At least, up until Tengai is knocked out by Tokage and Kamikiri via the Warp Gate. Thus, shutting down the barrier to allow Skeptic and any remaining Villains to be wiped out. 

Of course, there’s also the issue of the likes of Ketsubutsu’s deal with Skeptic being overturned, though I think a good way to handle that is to have them also at Takoba trying to take Skeptic’s forces down. In this case, a good midtier Villain that can give them a challenge is Deidoro Sakaki and Katsukame. Sakaki’s Sloshed and Katsukame’s energy drain are being a real nuisance in preventing the Heroes from getting to Skeptic, so it’s up to Ketsubetsu to stop them. In this case, Shindo and Nakagame take down Sakaki, while Ms. Joke and those other two guys beat Katsukame. Thus, freeing up more space to focus on the nerdy fuck who needs to get out of the barrier. 

As for any other side Villains to go along with Skeptic, I’m all for including the likes of the Carmine Advisors that made it out, beyond Toga’s 1st ranker. So Toga #3 and Skeptic’s #3. As for Gashly, he can still work as the main muscle, albeit with a revamped Quirk? Perhaps his Baby Tree quirk is more on the psychological side of things that make Skeptic’s puppets even more of a hassle to fight against? Nomu for Takoba will be Chubs to add to the whole theme of ‘this place is chalk full of tanky, long-distance, support fuckers who won’t fight directly’ which is just bound to get on the Takoba Heroes nervesXD

Main Boss: Skeptic

Jailbreaker: Gashly (with a revamped Quirk, probably something rhyme-based to help Skeptic’s puppets out)

Return: Tengai, Katsukame, Sakaki - Shie Hassaikai. Needle Hair, Martial Hair

PLF:  Skeptic #3/Toga’s #3

Nomu: Chubs

UA Shelters

Always thought this was more of a shame that there wasn’t really any proper fights here. Yeah, I know the idea is ‘oh, we can’t let the Villains in’ but c’moooon! It’s the final fight - let them be more of a threat by a few breaking in, causing the Heroes on the inside to try to stop them.

Let Mustard return to spray his gas to help weaken the Heroes defenses, which allows him to get a rematch with Kendo and Tetsu again! Let Mimic get smuggled into UA to take control of the damn thing after Skeptic failed! Have the remaining yakuza work with the saboteurs, acting as their guardsman while they try to bring UA down and it’s a race against time to really stop them. Hell, let Mummy return to use his powers to turn the machinery against the Heroes and have them work hard as Hell to stop him!!

How did they get in? IDK, let one of the saboteurs have a Quirk that let’s them be dollar tree version of Mr. Compress, or maybe they snuck in, if only barely. Heck, maybe after Kurogiri is freed, AFO placed the data for inside of UA and the team meant to rampage in it (thanks to the spies) inside of Shiggy’s mask and Kurogiri warped the taskforce in after the factl There are ways to go about it to make it work. Just allow people like Kaminari and Momo to get more to do than off-screen deal with Twice copies!!! 

But, with that in mind, every location needs a boss of some sort, right?...So why not have the one in charge of such operations be Giran? Have him sneak into UA via his muddle Quirk and make him the director of sabotage for the Villain forces, something he’d be proud to do since he’d want revenge for Twice's death. As for how he doesn’t get folded instantly when found out, if you don’t want to have him unguarded, you can have him use his/Detenerat’s support items to hold off Heroes long enough to make some play happen for his side. I just think it’d be a fitting way to end his story trying to payback the man who saved his life instead of just…not existing after a while.

Boss: Giran

League: Mustard

Jailbreaker: Mummy

Shie Hassaikai: Chronostasis, Mimic, Nemoto, Garbage Trio

PLF: Saboteurs (Tajima, Mihaera, and three people no one cares about)

Gunga Villa

Last, but not least, we got the Gunga battlefield…which is very much due for an uplift. Seriously, the battlefield against the Demon Lord should not have been so damn barren like in canon. Even the Nomus that got sent with him, who were giving everyone else so much trouble, went down likes chumps. So…how to correct it?

Simple! Make it the powerhouse buffet with all the heaviest of hitters being sent there. Woman and her analytical skills mixed with her bloodlust? She’s there to kick ass like the rampaging beast queen that she is, and ensure that the the Heroes really don’t get that much of a break while AFO is wrapped up fighting Team Endeavor in the skies.

Rappa of the Eight Bullets rampaging through the battlefield, knocking out people clean up until Kirishima arrives on Machia - then the rematch of a lifetime could occur!!! I will never stop harping on this, I truly believe we should have gotten a Kirishima and Rappa rematch in the Final War, and its a WASTE Rappa/none of the yakuza besides Overhaul returned!!!

Toxic Chainsaw, the name-dropped foe that All Might whooped back in the 1st chapter and could have probably been a neat callback? Add in Dreadlock Jailbreaker having a spike quirk and the threat from a living pincushion and toxic waste shoots the threat level way up. These guys I’ld probably leave as a deal opponents for the Shiketsu side of things, to give them some form of meaningful foe to clear out before taking on AFO.

Finally, the name-dropped Sanctum and the rest of the Twice Squad serving as, well not really AFO back-up, but general mook rallying nonetheless so the battlefield for this affair is a bit more of semi-organized affair for the Villains instead of a huge mosh pit where they got wiped out so easily.

Boss: AFO

Jailbreaker: Toxic Chainsaw, Dreadlock Jailbreaker

Nomu: Woman

Advisors: Sanctum & other Twice Advisors

Return: Rappa, Habit Headgear, Tesla, Victor

-

Ultimately, this was how I'd split them up! I tried to give each battlefield someone related to the League or who we have seen could be a credible match for the Heroes.

ALso saw fit to give an expalnation as to why some are here and others elsewhere...or not here at all.

Why isn't Re-Destro here?

Because I think the idea of Redestro going down fighting allow the PLF to escape is actually a good idea and could have lead to more development for his top brass, with the post-war showing how each of them are trying to carry on the organization's will. Geten's furious and preparing his Quirk more, Skeptic is actually training to defend himself and other better, Trumpet is channeling his inner Usopp and just lying to every straggler he finds to bolster their forces.

Why is the Shie Hassakai helping AFO?

Mutual benefit. The SH wants Overhaul back, AFO can free him if they win. Also, in Rappa's case, he just wants to brawl so he's imediately on board.

Why only Movie 2 villains on-board?

Because they're the only movie villains that are both in Japan, and not arrested internationally. I mean, I could have tried to incldue Wolfram and his dudes, if I wanted? But if I do ever make a pitch for a new Dark Deku Jailbreaker arc, I'd rather save him for that.

Aaaaaand, that's that?

Regardless, this is pretty much just a thought experiment on my part so hope you got some enjoyment from it!! Think I could have done any of these battlefields better?

[tossawary]

Okay, spoilers for the first twenty minutes of the first episode of the live-action ATLA remake, because they added a brand new prologue that was VERY bad and I need to talk about how hilariously bad it was.

So, the show opens in the Fire Nation's Capital City at night, with an earthbender running away with an important-looking scroll and being chased by Fire Nation soldiers. There's an unimpressive chase sequence that ends with the earthbender managing to hand off the scroll to someone else, before being caught and dragged before Fire Lord Sozin.

First thoughts: why are they opening 100 years early? I liked the way the original cartoon opened in the actual world state that mattered to us, then the war and its history slowly unfolded as the main characters learned more about their own world. Sozin's wig and costume looks CHEAP, and they are throwing away all of the intimidating mystery of the Fire Lord (we don't see Ozai's face in the cartoon for like two seasons) by showing Sozin as just some guy. Also, it's kind of a waste of time to introduce Sozin here at all, especially in person, because while he had a MASSIVE impact on the world of the story, he's basically irrelevant to the main narrative happening 100 years later, because our actual villains are his descendants ACTIVELY CONTINUING his work.

The earthbender is beat-up but defiantly says that the Earth Kingdom has now been warned that Sozin intends to attack. Sozin is all smug, though, because apparently he WANTED these plans to be stolen. He wants everyone (he actually explicitly names the Water Tribes and the Air Nomads as well as the Earth Kingdom) to be looking towards the Earth Kingdom, so that he can attack the Air Nomads instead, because that's where the new Avatar is, who is the only person who could stop him. (The exposition is sooooo clunky and cheesy. It's baaaaad. Talk directly to the camera, why don't you?) Then Sozin burns this poor earthbender to death and then the scene skips over to Aang at the Southern Air Temple.

Second thoughts: oh, so we're not only going to waste time building up Sozin as a villain when we're going to very shortly skip ahead 100 years? We're also going to establish Sozin as a guy in a bad costume who is kind of shit at military strategy? He doesn't need a distraction! He doesn't need a feint! No one is expecting him to attack anyone, he shouldn't need to fake attacking someone else! In fact, he's letting all the other nations know that they should be paying close attention to his movements? What?!

At the Air Temple, we see Aang and Gyatso's relationship, and we see Gyatso called in to speak with a council of senior monks. The council has been alerted to the fact that Sozin intends to attack the Earth Kingdom, they intend to help, and they want to prepare Aang for war. And I didn't really have to think too hard about the logistics of Sozin's attack on the Air Nomads when it was something that happened 100 years ago! But now this stupid fucking show is making me actually have to think about how all of this worked, because it actually shows SOZIN'S ATTACK on this temple and this is why Aang is forced to leave! (And gets frozen in an iceberg for 100 years.)

Don't show me this nonsense if you don't want me to think about the logistics and strain my suspension of disbelief! If the Air Nomads intend to help the Earth Kingdom when the Fire Nation attacks, then because they're PACIFISTS who can FLY, they would be most helpful serving as scouts and messengers. But NO ONE is watching the movements of Sozin and his entire fucking army of firebenders when they have been EXPLICITLY forewarned that he intends to attack the Earth Kingdom??? They don't have anyone watching out for this explosive conflict that will directly impact their ability to travel at the very least?

It's one thing if the Fire Nation has simply become increasingly militaristic and industrial, because from an outsider's perspective, that could just be Sozin strengthening his internal power. (The Fire Nation could have had multiple lords and kingdoms, historically, before being forcibly united into a single nation.) Chin the Conqueror was also just one Avatar ago, so it's maybe not unreasonable for the Fire Nation to be wary of warmongers within the Earth Kingdom. The Fire Nation becoming increasingly hostile and aggressive is concerning, but people tend to hope that cooler heads will prevail and war won't happen. It's not the same as DIRECT CONFIRMATION that the (United?) Fire Nation intends to invade the Earth Kingdom and start a war?

Sozin, apparently: "The best way to pull off a surprise attack is intentionally put all of my enemies on their guard."

So, now the Air Nomads don't look great for failing to notice an army showing up like that. Especially if they're in contact with the Earth Kingdom about the war that they're anticipating? Like, sure, they didn't anticipate THEY would be attacked, but they have information now that Sozin has an army on the move and terrible ambitions? Maybe these senior monks aren't sharing the news around because they don't want to panic anyone yet? Maybe it took a long time for the Earth Kingdom's information to reach them? But it's not a great look that the show is immediately inspiring me to find flaws (in the plan of telling your enemies to look out for your attack beforehand) and to have to come up with excuses for these potential plot holes.

And I personally didn't enjoy seeing the Air Nomads engaged in combat with the Fire Nation as one of the first things we see from them! Of course they're going to defend themselves when attacked, but it's just so sad, especially when Aang is introduced in the original cartoon as a wondrous mystery to Sokka and Katara and the audience, fun-loving and bright and with incredible powers, a miraculous shock of sunshine colors against the blue of the South Pole, a person from a more peaceful time and a hopeful way of life, someone who has never seen war and never heard of this one. In the cartoon, we learn about the Air Nomads through getting to know Aang, this penguin-sledding kid who can't even conceive of war yet, before we see the remnants of his loss. We don't have to see airbenders fighting for their lives and dying horribly before we fully understand who they are as a people.

This remake heavily frontloads its exposition with new material that is painfully clumsy, largely irrelevant, and doesn't add anything good to a story that's already been done pretty well. Was this just an attempt to avoid being accused of directly copying and adding nothing? Because it was bad. What the fuck was wrong with opening in the main time period of our story with Sokka and Katara as our POV characters? We could have instead seen more of the Southern Water Tribe! We could have spent more time with Aang getting to know the Southern Water Tribe and bonding with Sokka and Katara! We could have had more conflict between Aang and Zuko (who is, unlike Sozin, alive and relevant to the actual story at hand)! But no, we cut good stuff from the original show and have to waste all of this time on Sozin instead, who is dead by the time that the real story starts, and also apparently thinks telling everyone he intends to attack the Earth Kingdom when no one knew he was going to attack anyone is good military strategy.

[lollytea]

Okay I just wanna dump a few of my headcanons, if you would be so kind as to allow that. Basically

The first thing I'm gonna get into is how witches came to exist in the Demon Realm in the first place. It's implied that every living thing on the Boiling Isles grew from the Titan corpse's residual magic like some kind of fungus. But I personally believe that witches themselves were originally an invasive species that eventually became one with the Isles over a period of time.

I think witches are too biologically similar to humans for it to be a coincidence. Obviously, there are significant changes. The bile sac, the ears, the fangs, sometimes additional eyes, tails, all that freaky stuff. But the blueprint is the same. These two species are cut from the same cloth.

It's heavily implied through comments from Eda and Hunter that glyphs used to be more commonly practised but have become so irrelevant that most of the population doesn't know anything about them anymore. Why? Why were glyphs so frequently used in the first place if all witches were born with a biological magic generator, and why did the practise fall off so hard in later years?

Well, I think it's because the original witches were human. Over the centuries, their bodies evolved for the sake of survival, the most significant change being the bile sac, rendering glyphs obsolete and forgotten to the sands of time.

I don't think humans were ever supposed to be a part of the Isles. But accidents happen.

Who's to say HOW they ended up there. The strongest theory is that during the war between the archivists and the titans, the latter shed puddles of blood, which resulted in hundreds of portals opening up that humans from all over the world ended up stumbling into.

The Boiling Isles originally developed as an anarchist society because its first settlers had to disregard the rules and laws they knew from their old life in order to co-exist with each other. Because they were all from different cultures and they functioned and perceived morals differently. A lot of them couldn't even communicate with each other because of language barriers. Plus, the Boiling Isles was dangerous and chaotic, and they had to adapt to that.

The unity between these people was crucial to their survival. They couldn't afford to be divisive and create bigotry in this new world they were inhabiting. A strict enforcement of authority is a slippery slope to civil war. They had to put the rules of the Human Realm aside and agree to operate under new rules.

Ultimately, bits and pieces of the developing Human Realm spilling into the Boiling Isles over the centuries along with Belos' influence was what caused that way of life to gradually deteriorate. Aka the introduction of cops and commerce etc.

I feel like all the language barriers that originally existed resulted in a new language being developed to make better connections with each other. I've been calling it Witchtongue but somebody else could probably come up with something more original. But also a huge chunk of the population spoke primarily English or at least spoke it as a second language (I know English is the language of trade but I'm not entirely sure if that was the case during this time period)

So, these were the two most common languages of the Isles that co-existed in the savage ages. Different communities spoke either one or the other casually, but everyone at least had a basic understanding of both

Now the second thing I'm going to talk about is the knowledge of royal titles in the Boiling Isles, implying that these are things that exist here. (Darius calling Hunter a Prince, Odalia calling Amity a Princess, things like Grom Queens and Kings etc.) This is strange considering that as far as we know their only experience with a monarch is Emperor Belos. Unless of course, there are others elsewhere. Which is the next thing I'm gonna talk about.

I think the gradual eradication of witch culture was intentional on Belos' part, because their principles made it a lot more difficult for him to seize control and execute his genocide plan.

He couldn't get rid of it entirely. That was too difficult. But he could contain it. And he knew how.

By this point in Belos' time in the Boiling Isles, he had noticed that the occasional book or item dripping in from the Human Realm could significantly change the way things operated. They adapted to money rather than trading. It wasn't even Belos that introduced that. Human Realm influence was a powerful thing.

He understood exactly how he could successfully put a stopper in the spread of Boiling Isles history and language so it wasn't as commonly known as it was.

He hand selected a small community of witches who were passionate about preserving history. And him being "Lord Belos" at the time, he had the power to grant them power too. He gave them titles (like Lord, Lady, Prince, Princess etc.) and he convinced them that they were special. That the Titan told them so. Descendents of the first witches of the savage ages who founded their rich, beautiful culture. They are so much purer and more attuned with the land than all these other modern witches who are letting their culture slip away. Giving them this massive superiority complex, basically.

And then these people have children. And their children have children. And the centuries go on. And now they're a large community of "royal families" living up in manors on the Knee, sending their children to St. Epiderm as it's the only school that teaches witchtongue. It's the only school that teaches anything worth knowing about the culture of the Isles. Because these families are the ones funding that school. And it's for their kind and their kind alone

Prehistoric Boiling Isles culture is in this weird stage where it's both erased AND gatekeeped. And it's different types of rich people doing both of them

I'm thinking of those old money, wealthy witch societies. Fluent in the language, have access to so much of the history, keep ancient artefacts. They're probably the type to host like fancy balls and festivals celebrating their culture. All while locking out the rest of the Isles who weren't born into these rich families, so are basically dirt in their eyes.

There was these ancient rules formed by the first settlers. Most of it is basic decency like "Share what you own with your family and friends." That rule was followed because of maintaining a sense of community. It was about helping each other out. Because there were not A LOT of settlers.

However, these old money families have twisted the meaning of that statement. They hoard their wealth, but they share it with each other. They're a community themselves, and they DO look out for each other. So they consider it blasphemy to share with anyone else.

MEANWHILE there's the direct opposite of this in the Blight family. I imagine that neither Alador or Odalia were born into money. Odalia is just a relentless capitalist. However the concept of capitalism is completely against all the rules the settlers established. It's parasitic and predatory. It is COMPLETELY influenced by techniques and practises done in the Human Realm.

Capitalism has no business in the Boiling Isles. But Odalia does not give a fuck. It DOES involve getting lower class witches involved in order for it to work. It's a machine. It need thousands of people involved in order to function. Odalia made her money by stepping over other people and leeching everything out of them. In doing so, she's scrubbing Boiling Isles culture away.

Basically I feel like the old wealthy communities would look down on the Blights. They disagree with how they make their money. It goes against the morals of the Isles. Meanwhile they're also shitty horrible people but in the opposite way.

It's a cycle of rich people being shitty

[martialartslover7]

Why Asuka Deserves Better. #JusticeForAsuka

Oh, Asuka. My poor, dear Asuka. You were meant for greatness. You were meant, for so much more. Your second name only ended up becoming the subject of ridicule to the developers, despite them having breathed life into, with very clear intentions on making you a hidden MVP of the story.

No matter what any of these cringe dudebros in the FGC, the demented twits on Twitter, or the braindead Redditors claim about you, you are a character, that deserved to be on the top half of the totem pole.

You deserved to fight alongside Jin, Hwoarang and Xiaoyu, the main Tekken trio. You deserved to kick, at least ONE, of Mishima's asses, entirely on your own. You deserved to meet Jun, and maybe even train under her guidance to become a full-blooded Kazama, completing your training…

…You could have, you could have, it's all I can say with her. And it genuinely pisses me off, how she never evolved beyond what Tekken 5 showed to us. And listen, I know that, to many of you, she doesn't even seem like much "to begin with", but that's only because, you're not as invested as I am, much less in the character, and what she was truly meant to be, which, I am pretty sure, most of you just view as "shallow, coomer bait", or "gooner material for virgins".

Well, if you truly think that way, jokes on you, you're the true loser of this tale, as it just proves my point that, you're just a typical FGC shill, who is merely here for the ride, but not for the long term. Much less for the overall integrity of the game's integral core qualities, that made everyone else fall in love with it, in the first place.

And listen, I am fine with it, whatever floats your boat. But then stop trying to copy some pro player's opinion, like a mindless lemming, and then act so surprised, when people rightfully make fun of you for it. Whenever I see these people talking shit, I keep referring back to this meme right here:

But in all seriousness, since this is Asuka's birthday, and I want to clean up the trash, left behind by online circle-jerking sessions on any platform, claiming that "Asuka is just irrelevant, move on, buddy", allow me to take charge, and show to you, WHY Asuka always deserved to be relevant, in spite of the glaring evidence speaking against the argument. Lemme start with this:

When Asuka first debuted in Tekken 5, it became quickly clear, that her fighting style was a derivative, more up-front and aggressive version of Jun Kazama's style of martial arts. And if you really want to go there, I mean…

…Just look at her, man. This doesn't take a genius to realize: Her appearance, her design, the vibes she exuded, all of it, contributes to her feeling like a near-perfect, honorable and tasteful homage to Jun Kazama, who, by the way, at this point in the series, was declared "missing". She wasn't considered dead, just missing.

Not helped by the fact, that…

…Come on, look at her facial features, how can you NOT see a bit of Jun Kazama in her? Especially, when you put this in-game face model of hers…

…right next to Jun's facial model from the character select screen in Tekken 2. Am I being crazy, or do these look actually related, for real now? These two feel eeriely similar. And just for that alone, you could tell, the devs, at one point or another, certainly had bigger ideas with her.

But this is not where it ends. If it was, I wouldn't even be writing this stupid long thread.

Despite Asuka's ending in Tekken 5 being comical in nature, there is STILL some serious value to be found, a trace, a hint, of her being of far bigger importance than even the devs themselves ever gave her credit for…

…And seriously, sorry for going off-track about this, but, I am sure I am speaking on behalf of every Asuka fan, anywhere: FUCK. OFF. With this bullshit mindset of:

"Asuka was never meant to be a serious character, stop trying to pretend, there was ever anything salvageable about her, when all she ever was, is just a cringe, cliché moe anime tsundere girl with huge honkers and a rotten, loud-mouthed attitude, that makes me want to rip my ears off, every time she opens her mouth. Stop the cap. You probably just goon for her, in that case, you're a horny pedo, get outta my face." -- Every FGC shill on social media

And listen, I know, it probably was never exactly like this, but all the key- and buzzwords probably allign, because, I have been there, numerous times, especially in YouTube comment sections and Twitter. And it wasn't just limited to Asuka. This is a universal problem, that can be applied to all fighting game characters in general. We all know the drill by now, the moment you get confronted with the FGC, hoping to find at least one nerd, who is willing to partake in story discussions and theories like in the anime community, the majority of users will, 9 times out of 10, claim:

"I don't care about story in fighting games, no one should, it's a Nothing Burger. You cannot expect that quality from something, not meant to be played, all by yourself. Oh, by the way, I had sex with your grandma." -- Some loser pro player on social media

How. Fucking. Often. Did I hear this justification. ANYWHERE? Try to guess. Believe me, the count is too high to count at this point. Why are people THIS freaking boring in the FGC? Is the part about, "being so accepting of crushing mediocrity, and never wanting to wish for better" the most common commodity these days? You just want to play the game? Good. Then do me, and everyone else, especially yourself, a favor, and…

SHUT THE FUCK UP! NO ONE ASKED FOR YOUR MENTALLY IMPAIRED TAKES, WHEN YOU NEVER CARED TO BEGIN WITH! SHUT! UP!

But, now that I got THAT out of my system, back to Asuka. As I said, her Tekken 5 ending, despite not being much to go off of, is probably, the one and ONLY time, where we see Asuka, being at her absolute best, despite not being much to go off of, is probably, the one and ONLY time, where we see Asuka, being at her absolute best, despite the comical outcome, which, I am obviously going to cut away, because I didn't come here to waste everyone's time. I am glad to give reminders, here you go:

…and what happens after this? Does it ever get expanded upon? Does Asuka become relevant in any sort of way? Does she maybe get the chance to fight at Jin's side--

Oh, right. No, this is not what happened. What actually happened, is this:

And just seeing her laugh this maniacally like a psychopath, it just reminds me of this laughter right here, when Mephiles killed Sonic in 06, except, Lili's creation itself killed, what little left there was of Asuka's potential as a character, so, same thing:

But just wait, this isn't the only thing we came here for, and that is me dunking on Lili, which, at this point in time, has become far too easy for me, so I will leave that for some other time. For now, just a reminder: It never improved from here. Instead, it just got sadder, the more time passed. And for some reason, everyone is so accepting of it, despite Asuka's and Lili's """""rivalry""""" (or lack thereof, as, by this point, it feels more like an ongoing trainwreck, circus performance, than an actual rivalry to take seriously) feeling like a shittier "carbon copy" of Sakura and Karin.

A can of worms I may need to tackle in the near future...

Since it's her birthday, let us all come together, as Asuka fans, and celebrate, what makes her so great in the first place. And one of those things being:

Her badass attitude.

Ignoring her arcade ending for a moment, every other scene with her in Tekken 5, may it be either against Feng Wei or Jinpachi, was this: Peak. Not much else to add. And because I like being petty, I will gladly remind you all again, why I am saying this, no further comment needed.

THIS is why, many of us grew to love Asuka. Every situation she was put in, she just stood tall. She didn't feel even remotely intimidated by Feng's appearance, let alone Jinpachi, and he looks the most demonic. Any normal person would have just run away, but she never did. And considering she managed to "heal" Jin afterwards, her Kazama blood actually meant something here, which leads me to assume, her fight with Jinpachi must have been insanely one-sided. It's not much, but considering the implications of her ending, and Kazuya's ending in Tekken 4:

This was very likely, a setup for Asuka's character. Considering that, it never openly specified, how pure-blooded of a Kazama you need to be, to have this level of power potency, to match and reject the Devil Gene. Especially since, Jin had always been more Mishima, than Kazama, even by blood. And even if, Asuka just so happens to be from a Side Branch of the Kazama family, this doesn't really change anything, the consistency still alligns with what we have learned. And again, someone like Jin, who was more on the dominant Mishima spectrum, still managed to keep his own powers under control, thanks to his mother's Kazama DNA...

...for a while, at least.

Meaning, as things stand, Jun is not the only one, who was able to keep Kazuya's Devil Gene under locket, to give herself a fighting chance against him. And if Jun managed with him, then surely, Asuka must have done the same to Jinpachi.

And again, I am fully aware that, this is all purely speculation, but the points still stand, even if it doesn't get on-screen confirmation, the implications still hold weight, even now, despite all the retcons. A hidden W for us, Asuka fam. Yay!

(Megumin, because her English VA, Erica Mendez, is just pitch perfect for Asuka, should Bloodline ever get a season 2, don't @ me)

Also, another reason, why we love Asuka, even in some non-canon material, are scenes like this:

*cough* Ahem, considering the thumbnail, I am looking respectfully, please don't smack me, Asuka.

But leaving my bonobo monkey brain thoughts aside, this ending may not be canon, but let's be real: Does it even matter? THIS is the Asuka we are all looking for. She may be a tough cookie, but this ending shows another major strength of hers, that alligns with what we know from her in the canon games:

Her pure soul.

Sure, she throws punches, and yes, she is brash in her wording, but here, as you can see, she doesn't immediately throw herself into the frey, coming at them swinging. She remains patient, even with said patience gradually dwindling with them, because, we all know, mobsters suck. She has a perfectly good reason to get moody on them, but she chooses not to, at least, not the moment she arrives. That only proves one thing: She might be a vigilante, but getting violent on people is not something she likes doing regurlarly, unless, she isn't even the aggressor in the situation.

In fact, despite being given no incentive to do so, she still decides to show empathy to them, and promising to let them off the hook, if they start behaving from now on. Whether that's truly effective or not, considering that we are talking about Yankees here, that's a different question entirely. The point is: Asuka remains the bigger person, first and foremost, despite living in a hostile, unfriendly environment. If that doesn't make you sympathize with her, then, allow me to remind you, WHY she decided to join the 5th tournament in the first place:

Her father.

That makes her stand out: While most competitors in the series join for monetary gains, in hopes of gaining control of the Mishima Zaibatsu, or just becoming famous...

...AND DESIRING VENGEANCE ON A FUCKING MISHIMA FOR THE UPTEENTH TIME...

...Once again, another sympathy point to garner from her: She is not fighting for any grand goals, she just wants to get penance on the person, who dared to lay a hand on her family. That simple action by itself, speaks volumes of Asuka's overall character. The fact, that she goes this far, in joining a tournament, which has become infamous for being more of a macabre bloodsport than an actual tournament, while she was barely around Xiaoyu's age, too...

This girl, will gladly lay her life down for you, if you're family to her.

Again. The Jun Kazama parallels just keeping coming with this attitude of hers. She knew her life was at risk, just by joining this damned tournament, and yet, she didn't give a damn. She joined regardless. That alone tells you EVERYTHING you need to know about her character basics.

And another point to be made about her:

She is genuinely hilarious. Check her out.

Screw this moronic slapstick humor, where everyone gets turned into a butt monkey for no reason...

I AM LOOKING RIGHT AT YOU, HARADA.

Another reason why I love Asuka: Every situation she gets put in, even when she is the one being made the "loser" of the situation, the way she reacts to all these ludicrous moments feels SO. FUCKING. RELATEABLE. Every time she is confronted with Lili, or she is faced with ridiculous circumstances, like pretty much all her interactions during the Scenario Campaign, she feels like my personal rage translator. The self-awareness she brings, is my jam. And the sarcasm she throws in Hwoarang's face is so freaking delightful, that moment still makes me laugh.

This is where you know: You know a character is good, when they become super relateable in instances like that. You don't need slapstick for this, just have them react in ways that any normal person would.

Another point for contention, and this is one where, if you think about it for a few moments, it just makes too much sense to happen, but you end up becoming sad, that it never got to that point. And that is this:

(Image done by JIN-XIA-HWO-ASK-STE)

These four look so good together as a team, anyone saying "No", you are just lying to yourselves. These four look like a dream team. And I am not just saying that from a design and aesthetic point of view, but also, well, Jin is the only Kazama in the team, that cannot keep his own powers in check, unless he went through very extreme measures to do so. This team needs one Kazama, that can keep his power in-line, preventing him from going haywire again, and risk the lives of Xiaoyu and Hwoarang. Asuka, is, if you will, the super glue, that keeps this trio together.

And though we never saw them interact as a unit, Asuka's prologue in Tekken 6, once again, shows that, despite having all the reasons to be spite- and resentful of her relative, for his actions having gotten negatively reflected back onto her, due to them sharing the same second name, by some freakish "misfortune", look at this:

...Do you see her having any killing intent? Like, does she truly want to exude true harm on her relative, despite everything he has done? Nope. And if it's presented in this sort of fashion, it becomes more than clear, she isn't taking herself TOO seriously. And I like that. She might be a good guy, but she isn't living any delusions, she is aware that her own behavior is not exactly acceptable, and as we established: Family first. Which is why, I am not sensing malice from her. She just wants to have an excuse to smack some sense into him, because, that is how she expresses: I care about you.

Oh, Asuka. We really don't deserve you.

But the biggest point of all...

...and I am sure, everyone is able to agree with me on this, on how to make Asuka the true complete package for an awesome character, forget Lili...

...we need a rivalry between her and Reina. I mean, do I even need to explain why? Just look at these two, and dare to tell me, this doesn't sound like peak story material.

(Image done by @_jelart)

Asuka - A heroic tomboy, fighting for others, never herself, and a Kazama, that purifies the supernatural evil

Reina - An evil tomboy, fighting for dominance, to assert herself above others, which is true to her Mishima nature, enforced by Heihachi, and bearing the Devil Gene (technically, she is a Hachijo, but that makes it more epic)

Kazama VS Hachijo.

Both are foils to each other, and unlike Lili, Reina is an actual challenge for Asuka, not just in terms of combat, but also differing backgrounds, how they were raised, and the clans they both come from. It's just perfect, man. Come on, Bamco, don't be cowards for real, do this. You will have a cash cow waiting for you. Anything to get away from this airhead blond.

Oh, also, another excuse for me to show off this amazing artwork, to match Reina's Devil form:

(Big thanks to @Raydash30 on Twitter for this, you rock, dude)

In conclusion, Asuka Kazama is a queen among queens. In all of fighting games to me.

No matter anyone says, she is deserving of so much more, and I will never forgive Harada for just shoving her into the background, that would be bad enough, but never even TRYING to resolve this "conflict" between her and Lili. This has gone very stale after a while. Like, I don't mind comedy with Asuka, but what you do, my dude, is the equivalent by putting someone in a torture chamber, and putting a laugh track over it. It's not fun, it never was, and it never will be. Outside of it having overstayed its welcome.

Even the white bread basic bitches in the community, who cannot tell the runs from apple sauce would be able to tell you, how old this has grown with these two. Just go on Reddit. OF ALL PLACES. Or in YouTube comment sections, whenever Asuka was a topic in any way. EVERYONE says the same thing: She was meant for so much more. If that doesn't set the tone, then I don't know what will.

YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB. ONE. FUCKING. JOB.

AND YOU FAILED HER. EVERYONE LOSES.

If you're interested, check out my video here of why Asuka deserves better, it's her birthday, and I pray to, whatever god is out there, if there even is one at this fucking point, that it will go up from here for her. I am not living any delusions though:

Other than that though, one video summarized Asuka's best core design aspects better than I ever could. And here it is. Check it out, it's very interesting how much thought was actually put into her, overall.

And for more details, if you need a cohesive timeline for all this, check out my Twitter thread for this.

And to end it off in an epic way, here is, what I call, Asuka's theme song for when she fully embraces the main character energy. Enjoy. Now go and do AMVs with dat shizz.

And with that...

Happy Birthday, Asuka. This one is for you.

(Image done by my bestie, Jared789 from DeviantArt)

Peace.

[magpod-confessions]

(loosely responding to a confession i saw a while back, but just a lot of stuff in general)

i don't like how the fandom is so quick to slap labels like 'sexist, racist, misogynistic, etc' onto anyone who dislikes a certain character. i know these things are very much an issue, especially in fandom culture, but it's really anoying when people will just throw those labels around just because people dislike a character that happens to be a woman of colour. because 1. people are allowed to just dislike characters 2. people can have perfectly good reasons for disliking minority characters that have nothing to do with them being part of a minority group

specifically i want to talk about preferring michael distortion over helen distortion. obviously michael is widely depicted as a white man, while helen is widely depicted as a black woman so it's easy to look at the general favouritism towards michael and shout racism and misogyny. but that doesn't account the numerous reasons people could have to prefer michael over helen that have absolutely nothing to do with helen being black or being a woman. So, I present several such reasons:

(now, to the people that are going to say "why are you comparing them?? they are different characters and you should treat them like it" first of all, why have you read this far. second of all, that does not apply here. these are not two seperate characters. these are two different interations/personas/whatever of the same being. comparison should be expected if not encouraged)

michael is more interesting than helen. becuase michael is the distortion when jon and the viewer know very little about the distortion and the fears, he gets to be more cryptic, he can hint at things and and be all mysterious and vague about the nature of himself and the world. helen on the other hand is the distortion when we have a much better idea of the distortions nature and the fears and how they work. thus, she has less opportunity to be cryptic and vague and mysterious, which , in my opinion, is one of michael's best qualities-and what makes him so loved by the fandom. helen attempts to be weird and cryptic like michael, but it's just very repetitive and boring because we already know how everything works and there is very little she can hide from us

michael is a more 'iconic' character. this basically comes down to, he's more quotable. he has his whole trademark laugh and all his great quotes "i am not a who archivist i am a what" "how would a melody decribe itself when asked" "does your hand in any way own your stomach" "there has never been a door there archivist your mind plays tricks on you" i could go on. i'm sure helen has some great lines as well but i don't know any off the top of my head, which honestly proves my point a little. anyway, helen doesn't have all that. probably becuase the writers didn't want her to feel too similar to michael but yeah. this reason is a bit basic but it's still true

michael is made to seem more important. I just want to clarify, what i mean here when i say a character is more importamt here, is that the podcast makes this character seem more important. they both had their effect on the storyline, but the show definitely makes one of them seem more important and influential (this reason encompasses a lot of things so i'm sorry if it gets a bit ramble-y) this kinda ties in with the michael being more mysterious thing. micheal is treated as this mysterious unknown character, a potential threat, an antagonist at some points. Michael affects the characters quite a lot, and jon specifically seems to dwell on him a lot. So despite having a lot less screentime than helen, he's built up to be quite an important figure. Helen is not treated as important by the show in the same way. by the time she comes along, the whole mystery and drama of the distortion has already happened, so she isn't that important. she becomes a little irrelevant to the plot, occaisionally popping in to bother jon. and that's what she's really framed as —an annoyance, a bit of a nuisance, but not that important or influential. especially in season 5, she becomes almost a comedic relief character. mag 187 is the exception to this, where she is very important for about one episode before being almost immediately forgotten about. her effect on the characters is made to seem important only in retrospect. michael remains relevant even after his 'death' because he plays an important role in jon's struggle with his humanity and his conflict over gertrude's morals. even though michael has very little screentime compared to helen, every bit of it is made to feel relevant and important to the overall plot. I AM NOT SAYING MICHAEL IS ACTUALLY MORE IMPORTANT THAN HELEN. YOU CAN LOOK AT HELEN'S EFFECT ON THE PLOT AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE. I AM SAYING THE PODCAST ITSELF CLEARLY MAKES MICHAEL SEEM MORE IMPORTANT. sorry i just want to be super clear on that

michael has a more tragic/serious backstory. we all know what i mean here. michael shelley being manipulated and decieved and betrayed and kept in the dark, to become a monster that's whole purpose was to do those same things to countless innocents—there's so much that can be drawn from that and it's so poetic and interesting. it's also relevant to the overarching plot of the podcast like i said before. and like i mentioned before, helen is treated as a more funny character, not as serious or tragic as michael. don't get me wrong, there is tragedy in her becoming but it is not explored in the podcast canon. you can definitely talk about the srious stuff of helen's character but it isn't as grounded in canon if you do. also michael's death seems more tragic because michael shelley was framed as super innocent and undeserving of his fate while helen richardson was canonically kind of an asshole (not saying she deserved it either of course)

helen replaced michael. this relates to what i said at the start of this list—helen is going to be compared to michael as she is literally his replacement. for one, that does set michael fans against her slightly already because she's complicit in his 'death' a tiny bit. but the real problem is, she's expected to live up to michael—while also being different enough that it doesn't feel like the same character—which i personally don't feel that she does. i think i'd like her better if she was her own character and hadn't replaced michael, and i think that's a big reason that many people that prefer michael don't like her as much. it's also a valid reason to dislike a character. also, this has absolutely nothing to do with her being a woman of colour in fanon. if she was another white boy i'd still probably dislike her when she didn't live up to michael standards.

that's all i can be bothered to write, i think i had more ideas but i forgot sorry lol. anyway, notice how none of those reasons had anything at all to do with helen being a woman or often being depicted as black? if michael had been a woman of colour and helen had been a white man instead, these reasons would still apply

anyway i spent so long on this i thought of a couple reasons someone might preferhelen because i still love her and i don't want to make it seem like i dislike her. i don't. i just prefer michael but helen is still definitely top5 tma characters for me for sure.

we get to see the distortion adapt to it's new identity as helen which is super cool (i do not understand why no one talks about this.like hello????? it's so interesting?)

sometimes it's nice to have a more funny character, especially the juxtaposition between the more dark stuff of the podcast and lighthearted moments between helen martin and jon in season 5

i like her more subtle manipulations and the whole 'fake friend' thing. i thought that was a really interesting concept and a good way of bringing something new to the distortion

anyway, i know that white-twink-favouritism is an issue within the tma fandom (and dare i say tumblr as a whole) but let's remember than not everyone who likes or dislikes certain characters or prefers one character over another does so because they are sexist or racist. there are so many different reasons for someone to dislike or like characters that have notihing to do with race or gender.

i notice this debate particularly with michael and helen and i agree there could certainly be an element of sexism and a bit of racism too (not racism so much because she is not canonically black it's just a fanon thing so racist people probably just see her as white idk) but i think most people have genuine reasons like these to prefer michael and should not be called sexist or racist for having preferences.

🗣️ if i remember right mod i know you prefer helen so disagree with me if you wish. I'M NOT SAYING MICHAEL IS OBJECTIVELY BETTER THAN HELEN I'M POINTING OUT REASONS THAT A LOT OF PEOPLE PREFER HIM. i'm not really here to debate whether michael or helen is 'better' i just wanted to point out something that annoys me a bit

oh my god you are so right anon. at the end of it all both distortions are just. the distortion. michael was more impactful to the actual story as a whole, being one of gertrude's assistants, but helen is also super important in jons journey into avatarhood. both of them affected how jon sees himself through this ( him seeing himself as a monster definitely is also from the distortion ) in their own ways , and while helen is more of comedic relief , she still is new. she's fresh. she is a blank slate for the distortion after having been michael for so long and that is so interesting , especially with how she feels at the very start after merging. - deceit

Agree agree agree. I love helen sm and I find her incredibly interesting (and well the disortion in general) and I do prefer her over Michael personally (partly bc im gay as hell), but I definitely understand why ppl love Michael sm. And yea I dont think ppl should be called sexism or racist over liking a character. Like theres a big difference between liking a character for genuine reasons and liking them bc you have a bias. Idk yea - Rosette

[youkaigakkou-tl]

The TRUTH behind the soul pieces

Preamble: I started writing this expecting nothing, but I actually found something??? not clickbait???? gone right???

Warning: the expected reaction of reading this is “damn. I’ve never seen someone grasp harder at straws” and “I dunno about this one chief”

So. "The soul pieces aren't exactly what we're told they are" is an idea I've had for a while now. (I wouldn’t even call it a theory, it’s just a passing thought.) Not that "they're manifestations of Haruaki's traits" is wrong, but I think there's more to them than immediately obvious. I just haven't talked about this much because even I don't fully buy into it and it kinda verges on horoscope-type confirmation bias territory. It’s kind of a, I THINK there’s more to it but I don’t know what exactly is more.

A brief recap

First one shown is his "worldly desires", animal trio vs Seiryuu.

Second is his "freak athleticism", that Kurahashi's team and Ebisu just ran into.

With just these two he runs off to find Sano

Third is his "cowardice", found by Sano's team and Byakko, which gets away and hides in Sano's pocket.

Fourth is his "memory", originally found by Hijita's team and Genbu, which gets picked up by Genbu and then the whole Heian flashback happens.

And last is his "intelligence", which for some reason is also the one that can use his exorcism power.

So immediately a couple details stood out to me.

Why is "memory" here?? I wouldn't call that a trait exactly??

Also, when it first broke apart and flew off in five directions, it's specifically pointed out that it's "like a five pointed star" (even though it's not really if you look at the actual locations on a map lol)

And the sticking point, if it was as clean and simple a split as “Haruaki’s traits”, why do the traits bleed into each other? “Athleticism” is into sailor uniforms too, and “Cowardice” and “Intelligence” are pretty quick by themselves. Also, even without his “Memory” at the time, he remembered that conversation with Seimei in ch87.

The five pointed star detail, considering everything in the arc heavily relates to the Four Gods and Seimei's star, which relates to Wuxing, almost begs to be referencing that too.

What is Wuxing?

Wuxing, five elements, five phases, gogyo, whatever other name for it: I’ve talked about it briefly in my Kyoto arc analysis

(Wait. Is this actually all I mentioned regarding Wuxing in that analysis???? This tells you nothing!!)

(Tbh I think I had a longer explanation about it but I cut it because I thought it was irrelevant)

Wuxing 五行, roughly translated as five elements or phases, is a concept that comes from Taoism. The five elements are Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal and Water and describes the interactions between them. Here’s the wikipedia page if you really want to get into the details.

The “xing” means movements/moving, and the entire concept of Wuxing comes from the five classical planets’ (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn) movements affecting… things? In general? (It’s horoscopes)

In fact, the names of those five planets in Chinese and Japanese are tied with the Wuxing:

Mercury = 水星 water star

Venus = 金星 metal/gold star

Mars = 火星 fire star

Jupiter = 木星 wood star

Saturn = 土星 earth star

You’re taught these as a kid but not the reasoning behind it (because it’s hella irrelevant lmao) but I guess it kinda makes instinctual sense? (Venus = yellow, Mars = red, Jupiter = stripes, like tree rings?? Saturn = brown. Mercury = it looks like there’s rivers? idk how much detail they were seeing in the BC times)

And just to sate curiosity, the planets that were discovered after telescopes were invented are just based off the English names

Uranus = 天王星 sky god star

Neptune = 海王星 sea god star

Pluto = 冥王星 underworld god star

By the way, this is also why the days of the week are named after elements in Japanese; it’s not actually the elements, rather it’s referring to the celestial bodies: those 5 planets + the moon and the sun. It’s the classical Chinese system that Japan adopted around the 5th century AD, and they haven’t changed it since then. (Chinese uses stuff like “weekday 1” for monday now.) And China itself adopted the Greco-Roman system of the 7 day week, days named after celestial bodies around the 4th century AD, which is also why the planets and days line up if you look at the English and Japanese names now.

Would be crazy if they independently decided to have 7 days in a week and name days after celestial bodies and assigned the same planets to the days huh.

(Also, TIL from looking at this chart that the sun (taiyang) is indeed called that because it’s the “great yang star”, and the moon is called the “great yin star”, you know, like yin-yang)

I’m remembering why it’s so hard to research and write about this stuff now. Everything is so inextricably connected to everything else its hard to talk about one thing in isolation. Thanks for indulging my astronomy tangent I love astronomy.

(I always got saturn on da mind when I think about Seimei cus of this art…)

The only useful part of this essay

So. Wuxing. Here’s a pretty standard diagram of it so it’s easier to visualise

There are five types of processes Wuxing describes:

Generating: Wood feeds fire

The reverse side of generating: Fire burns wood

Regulating: Wood grasps earth

Excessive regulating (destruction): Wood depletes earth

The reverse side of regulation (exhaustion): Earth rots wood

And here’s a full list of it, from wikipedia

With this in mind, you’ll notice that it pops up all over the place in Kyoto arc!

If we take lightning as aligned with metal (because Byakko = metal = lightning user), this is the regulating interaction of metal -> wood

Metal cuts wood, but wood also dulls metal

Water… nourishing wood….???

Water destabilizes earth

(“This is just pokemon lol” WRONG!! Pokemon types and every other element system in videogames came from Wuxing!! (Or Godai))

Back to the soul pieces

So you see, it’s incredibly tempting to connect the five soul pieces with the five elements of Wuxing. It’s basically begging for it. The Wuxing has been associated with lots of things that come in sets of five, including things like senses, tastes, smells, emotions, mental qualities, periods of one’s life, body parts. It has applications in divination and traditional chinese medicine after all. If there was a clear, 1-to-1 match between the soul pieces and the elements, you bet I would have talked about it more by now. But the connections are tenuous at best, and even I don’t really believe it. They might, probably, just be the traits we’re told they are. So this really is just to humor myself, and maybe someone can glean something more from this.

Let’s lay out the things surrounding the soul pieces:

“Desires” was at Arashiyama (a bamboo forest) and Seiryuu was present, both associated with Wood

“Athleticism” was at Ginkaku-ji (silver pavilion), none of the four gods were present, no obvious element associations here.

“Cowardice” was at Mount Kurama (mountain = earth?), Byakko was present (metal?)

“Memory” was at Kiyomizu-dera (clear water temple), and Genbu was present, water association

“Intelligence” was at Kinkaku-ji (gold pavilion), and none of the four gods were present initially. (gold = metal?)

The other thing I’ve yet to mention is all the soul pieces seem to be of different points in Haruaki’s life. (Well. Four of them at least.)

“Desires” and “Athletics” seem to look and act younger (as much as you can tell with chibis…), both wearing simple t-shirts, and “Athletics” t-shirt and shorts look like what Haruaki wore as a kid in the Miki arc flashback. Adding on to that, we’re constantly told how into sailor uniforms Haruaki was as a little kid (literally whenever his childhood gets brought up: Mamaaki talking about it in ch8, him saying his first cry as a newborn was “sailor uniform” in ch43, the ch51.5 extra) (ok to be fair. his sailor uniform fetish gets brought up at every opportunity. but i feel like it’s Pretty emphasized here) Also I feel like “Desires” especially talks like a kid.

Meanwhile “Cowardice” and “Memory” are dressed the way he currently does, and “Cowardice” seems to parallel the way Haruaki was at the start of the series. It’s Sano’s team that runs into him, he acts like how Haruaki did early on just amped way up, and he ends up hiding on Sano.

IQ-kun… still don’t know what to make of him and how he fits into this lol

Put like this, doesn’t it almost seem like, in the order they appear, they represent points in Haruaki’s life too?

Or, this could all be nothing, because they’re all wearing the same thing in the jacket for Volume 14.

So anyway, from this angle, it seems like Desires and Athletics line up fairly cleanly with Wood and Fire respectively, but Cowardice, Memory and Intelligence are a little murkier. Cowardice only somewhat lines up with Earth, and both Memory and Intelligence could align with Water, while Memory could also be Metal. (I dropped the quotation marks bc they were getting distracting)

Here’s a diagram to illustrate.

(See it’s kinda, pick-and-choosey, horoscope-type shit)

Immediately a couple problems arise. First and most majorly is the horoscopey-ness of it all. And then there’s the matter that, if the four gods represent four out of five of the elements and earth is the outlier, wouldn’t it also make sense if IQ-kun as the outlier would be assigned that?

There’s also the possibility that the first four are a set, and IQ-kun makes up the “yin” to the rest of Haruaki’s “yang” (But then what would the first four correspond to individually? idk….)

We’re getting nowhere with this analogy, so let’s look at some adjacent philosophies in sets of five, just for fun, and see if they line up any better.

Traditional Chinese Medicine

This one is the most related to Wuxing, there are five main “organs” in TCM that have associated Wuxing elements. They might be called the same names as the anatomical organs, but they’re actually more like concepts only roughly correlated with locations on the body. This is stuff codified thousands of years ago before modern knowledge of the human body, mind you.

Heart (fire): stores the “aggregate soul” (the mind)

Spleen (earth): governs transportation of qi and blood, and governs muscles and limbs

Lung (metal): stores the “po 魄” (physical soul)

Kidney (water): responsible for willpower or fear

Liver (wood): governs free flow of qi, blood and emotions. Stores blood, which stores the “hun 魂” (ethereal soul)

(The wikipedia page I linked has more in depth descriptions)

And if we sorta line up the attributes…

Desires = Liver/wood

Athleticism = Spleen/earth

Cowardice = Kidney/water

Memory = Lung/metal

Intelligence = Heart/fire

Something like this? It doesn’t line up particularly nicely either, and certainly doesn’t line up with the first theory…

But reading up on this actually brought something useful to my attention: the concept of “hun” and “po”

See, there’s this Chinese compound word “hun po 魂魄” that generally just means “soul”, but if you get really semantic they’re two different types of souls?

The “hun” is the yang-aligned “ethereal soul” typically understood as the wits/mind of a person, whatever constitutes the personality, and is the part of the soul that leaves the body on death.

The “po” is the yin-aligned “physical soul”, sometimes described as the “baser animal spirit” of a person, and is attached to the body.

This could explain why Haruaki’s soul is also Seimei’s soul, but also Seimei is in the underworld?

This scene I got real hung up about in my Kyoto arc post?

It lining up and being a reasonable explanation is one thing, but whether sensei is deliberately referencing a property of Chinese linguistics that doesn’t have an equivalent in Japanese kanji is another thing. And honestly, I could see Tanaka “I’ll have to read up on Chinese history, but off the top of my head Byakko and Seiryuu are from 4000BC and Suzaku and Genbu are younger” Mai could and would do it. (Good god, what I wouldn’t give to see sensei’s notes. Yohaji fanbook explaining every cultural reference PLEASEEEE IM BEGGINGGG)

Godai

Godai (“the five great (elements)”), while also a thing with five elements that features prominently in Japanese culture, differs from Wuxing in that it originates from the concept of Mahābhūta in Indian Buddhism, and features Fire, Water, Earth, Wind and Void. It’s a more inert definition and describes the elements as building blocks, contrasting with Wuxing which is more concerned with the balancing and interaction between the elements and the changes they cause in each other.

Godai also isn’t ever depicted as a star (and Wuxing is only depicted as a star as a byproduct of all the arrows denoting the interactions, sometimes the 5 elements are arranged like the 5 side of a dice with lines connecting everything) and is typically depicted as a Gorinto, a stone structure.

In order from top to bottom, it goes Void, Wind, Fire, Water, Earth, and represents the structure of the universe in Buddhism.

So. Attributes and if they line up any better.

Earth: unmoving, stability

Water: fluidity, adaptability, motion

Fire: passion, power, energy

Wind: growth, freedom

Void: the spirit? thought? there’s not really a clear description of this one. To begin with, originally in Buddhism, it’s just said that “from void emerged air, from air emerged fire, (etc)”

I could see wind = Memory and void = Intelligence, but the rest… I dunno man

The five aggregates in Buddhism

And now, following the thread back from Godai, to the Buddhist concept of Skandhas, or the “five aggregates of clinging”, described as the five factors that make up a sentient being’s personality. (Hey, this sounds like it could be onto something here!)

The five aggregates are:

Form or matter: the material form of a person

Sensation or feeling: the five senses + intellectual sensation, and the feelings that occur whether pleasant, unpleasant or neutral

Perception: cognition and recognizing what has been previously noted

Mental formations: dispositions, or something that motivates a person to take action (or sometimes described as the influences of a previous life?!)

Consciousness: cognizance, or the base that supports experience, sometimes translated as mind, intelligence or life force

Wait… This kinda… lines up…? No way…?

Form = Athleticism

Sensation = Cowardice

Perception = Memory

Mental formations = Desires

Consciousness = Intelligence

This… kinda works? They all basically line up and it’s not too tenuous, and there’s enough matching details in the descriptions of the five aggregates that it’s kinda scary…?

I’ll be real, prior to writing this section I hadn’t actually read the descriptions of each of them too carefully (I had the tab open and roughly noted the descriptions kinda worked) and I entirely expected to end this essay with a “in conclusion: no conclusion i learned nothing lol” but there’s actually something here????

And Tanaka Mai is known to reference Buddhism a lot, so this could entirely be intentional…??? I’m kinda shaken rn tbh

I mean, I guess I should have looked to Buddhism first considering sensei’s track record, what with how the arc opened with Haruaki getting put under a waterfall to get rid of his worldly desires, and how 3 out of 5 locations were Buddhist temples, but Buddhism concepts usually use their Sanskrit names and I don’t know how to google for that… (making excuses. classic)

Um. Hope you enjoyed reading this and that you learned something? Here’s all the relevant wikipedia pages if you want to go down your own rabbit hole:

Wuxing (Chinese five elements)

Godai (Japanese Buddhism five elements)

Mahābhūta (Indian Buddhism five elements)

Hun and po (two concepts of souls)

Skandha (five aggregates that make up a person)

Twelve Nidanas (didn’t mention this one, but it’s related to skandhas)

If you read all this you should read all my other long rambly things too if you haven’t, they’re all under the #rambles tag 👍

[fieldofdaisiies]

Modern AU based on Blue Neighbour by Troye Sivan. Eris and Azriel used to be childhood best friends and in their teens they discovered they have feelings for each other. Beron found out about them and punished Eris and forced him to break the contact with Azriel. But when Beron dies years after, Azriel… songs used for this story: Wild, Fools, Talk Me Down, Youth, Rush, One of Your Girls (all from Troye Sivan) for @azrisweek | azrisweek masterlist | read on ao3 | includes explicit content

A loud, buzzing sound rings out in the otherwise silent meeting room. Azriel's hand immediately slams down on his thigh, trying to press the silent button of his phone through his suit pants — without success. He needs to pull it out, which is something Rhysand, his boss, doesn't like to see at all.

The phone is in Azriel's hand for a mere second when Rhys's voice echoes through the meeting room, his gaze stern when it lands on Azriel, "No phones in the meeting room!"  

I guess that rule doesn't apply to everyone here because when the baby daddy gets sent a photo from little Nyx, he is rather quick to check his phone, completely ignorant to the no-phone rule, Azriel thinks, but doesn't dare voice. 

He only tips his chin at his best friend and slides his phone back into the pocket of his pants, only for it to resume its vibration against his leg.

Rhys' gaze is still on him, still stern and slightly reprimanding. Azriel decides not to risk it and wait until the end of the meeting. The call can't be that important, can it?

Later, Azriel learns that he was wrong. The call was important, and the news he learns from the accompanying text messages pulls the rug out from beneath his feet. 

Two missed calls and a message appear on his screen alongside some Instagram notifications that now seem very irrelevant. Azriel enters the break room, his phone already unlocked, and opens the messages from his mother. His heart slams to a halt.

Mum: Beron Vanserra passed away in the early morning hours. We are all invited to the funeral on Sunday, 11 am. Greg and I are leaving this evening. Join us, please! Love, mum!

Azriel's hands start to tremble, turning a little clammy. He never considered going home again, not after everything that happened, not since New York had become his new home. 

He opens the chat, his thumb hovering above the letters, unsure how to respond. He doesn't want to leave his mother on read, especially not after a message like this, but he has no idea what to say… or do. 

Azriel: Thank you for the information. I'll consider it.

He shoves his phone back into his pocket and helps himself to a cup of coffee before returning to the meeting room. 

Maybe going home after more than ten years isn't that bad of an idea, Azriel thinks, but he knows it will re-open wounds that have finally almost healed.

And Azriel would see him again. Beron Vanserra's son. Eris Vanserra. And Azriel doesn't quite know if he likes the thought of that. 

How will it go? How will he feel seeing him after such a long time? The last time he saw him, he was seventeen, a boy; now, he is almost 28, a grown-up man. 

A lump the size of a peach starts to form in his throat, and he has difficulty swallowing even the smallest sip of coffee. His hands are still shaky, and breathing seems a little harder now. Azriel's gaze moves to stare at the tiny droplets of rain cascading down the floor-to-ceiling window.

They haven't spoken since he moved away, though the first few years in New York were filled with missed calls from Eris that went unanswered and were eventually blocked. He couldn't do that to him, give him hope, string him along, not when there was so much at risk.

Azriel tips his head to the side to think, to recall a moment in the past, a few strands of hair shifting with the movement. A few years ago, when Nesta, his best friend's girlfriend, downloaded Instagram for him, he found Eris and tried to follow him. The man never accepted his request and left Azriel with no idea what had happened in Eris' life. It makes him feel uneasy. Sad.

Did Eris move away? Did he stay in the village they grew up in? Did he fall in love? Did he marry? Has he fallen in love again?

Somehow, the thought of this makes a large crack appear in Azriel's heart, and he shakes his head a little. He will have his answers soon and then have to live with them, no matter the outcome. He wouldn't be staying long, only for the funeral. He doesn't have to worry or care about Eris for longer than the weekend. It should all be alright–

"Break's over!" Rhysand claps his hands. "Let's continue, shall we?"

Reluctantly, Azriel follows him back into the meeting room, his mind racing with questions he tries to push away. He doesn't want to think about Eris or seeing each other again,- but he can't avoid the directions his mind wanders.

Will they talk? How will they act around each other after so many years? How will Eris speak to him? Treat him?

His string of thoughts –thank God– is cut short when Rhysand directly addresses several questions that Azriel is too distracted and unfocused to answer. Usually, he is perfect at his work, but right now, his thoughts have strayed all over the place. He fidgets with a pencil, constantly flipping it over or tabbing a melody against the tabletop.

In the past, he had no real reason to consider returning home. He didn't have anyone to return home to. His mother moved away with him, and his abusive father left with his new family to settle in the West many years before he'd left that village with his mother. Azriel hasn't heard from his father since their move, which he isn't unhappy about. He is relieved to no longer have such a person in his family.

"The documents are on my desk by Monday, got that, Az?"

Azriel clears his throat and nods. He has no idea which documents Rhysand is talking about, but he’ll figure it out. Now, other things matter more- namely, making up his mind. Should he attend the funeral with his mother and her new husband, or should he stay and leave his past entirely behind?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Mum: We're leaving at seven. Have you made up your mind? Love, mum.

Azriel has only stared at the text since returning to his loft. It is long past seven now, and he hopes that they have already left. It would buy him more time. More time to consider his decision and think about all the possibilities that could come up when he returns home. When he sees him.

Eris Vanserra. His first friend. His best friend. His first love. His first kiss. His first time. His first heartbreak. 

Returning back to the village he grew up in, to the place he once loved so much and that later hurt him so much, isn't an easy decision. He was a young man then and hoped never to spend a day without Eris. They had made plans for their future that he tried to push as far away as possible in the years after he left but plans that he now remembers.

They often talked about it, relaxing in the meadow below the bright afternoon sun, limbs entangled, lips mere inches apart. 

What if, what if we run away?

What if, what if we left today?

What if we let them fall behind and they're never found?

Everything was good in those moments. Together, they had dreams, hopes of a promising and bright future shared with each other. They wanted to move to New York together, study at the same university, get married, adopt children - but it was all wishful thinking. None of it came true. Azriel went to New York alone because he had to. But nothing was keeping him in his hometown either. No one was holding him there…

Azriel folds a scarred hand over his eyes. The marred skin of his hands still serves as a reminder of his twisted and messed up childhood, a reminder that his step-brothers never faced anything more than reprimanding for whatever they did to him. 

He doesn't allow himself to go down that traumatic path, and he reminds himself that their torture is wholly and entirely over and will remain in his past. He will never see his father, step-brothers, or step-mother again. That won't happen. He wouldn't allow it.

Instead, Azriel thinks back to the day he left and the tears he shed. He cried from the village to the airport, wetting the fabric of his mother's shirt as she held him in her arms and let him sob into her shoulder. The questions that plagued him on that ride to the airport plague him now, and he mulls them over once more:

What if Beron had never caught them? What if they had never fallen in love? What if he stayed and—?

Azriel sits up and wipes a cold hand over his face, brushing back a few strands of hair. A deep sigh parts his lips, and he turns on his phone. The picture of him, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, and Cassian staring back at him from the glowing screen

He recalls vomiting the moment he opened the door at the airport, and later, on the plane, he opened up to his mother, telling her everything about his sexuality and Eris. His mother had long suspected that Azriel and Eris had been more than just best friends, but she never said anything, wanting to give him time to open up. While holding his hand on the plane, she told him she didn't care if he liked boys or girls and would love him nonetheless. He will always be her little boy whom she is immensely proud of and loves wholeheartedly. 

Azriel inhales a breath that feels too heavy and too large for his lungs, which have somehow constricted. He starts to type.

Azriel: You don't have to wait for me. I'll take a cab tomorrow morning. 

Instantly, almost as if waiting for his reply, his mother sends a thumbs-up, and then three dots appear. It will take her a moment to answer. Azriel knows this, and he closes his message. In the meantime, he goes on Instagram, flicking through pictures of his best friends and their girlfriends, and with a loud sigh, he closes the app again. All those happy couples…

Azriel lets himself fall back into the bed, groaning when his sore back slams into the pillows. He drops his phone onto the mattress beside him, waiting for the ping of response.

Mum: Alright, Azriel. But let me know when you arrive so we can let you in. We'll be staying at Uncle Devlon's place. Love, mum.

Azriel is now the one to send a thumbs up.

Mum: It will be fine, my dear, don't worry about seeing Eris. I'm sure he missed you just as much as you missed him. Don't be afraid. 

He leaves the message unanswered, trying to figure out how to respond. He isn't particularly afraid or worried. He doesn't know what he feels—too much at once, too little, or maybe nothing. 

Azriel flips his phone away and folds a hand over his eyes, shielding them from the city lights filtering through the window. New York is falling asleep, but he is wide awake, far away from sleeping. 

Deafening silence fills the room, surrounded by darkness; he suddenly realises that he is worried that Eris will ignore him. Concerned that there will only be small talk between them. Worried that Eris has moved on without him and no longer thinks about him like Azriel does. Worried that–

There will never be a future for them. And maybe this is good. Maybe Eris has moved on—of course he has, Azriel thinks. He has probably found a wife or a husband, and perhaps he even has children now. Ten years is a long time; a lot can happen in ten years. 

Azriel's head starts spinning from all the thoughts and questions, so he decides to get up, shower, and start packing for his weekend trip. 

His hair is still damp when, half an hour later, he returns to his bedroom. He dons some sleeping pants and falls into the bed, curling up on his side. His alarm is set, his phone is in flight mode, and his vague but adequate messages to Cassian and Rhysand are sent (he's going on a little trip for the weekend, and his destination and purpose are unrevealed).

A silent tear slips out of his eye, accompanied by a soft sob. One thing becomes apparent: yes, he is going home, but he is not going home to him. He will return to the village he grew up in, but not to Eris. 

The lie he's told himself these past years, that he stopped caring about Eris, that he has stopped thinking about him, suddenly falls apart. Azriel has thought about him. A lot. And he still does. And sometimes, many times, he finds himself yearning for how it once used to be. 

He wants to sleep next to him. And that's all he wants to do right now. And he wants to come home to him. And that's all he wants right now.

He doesn't just want to return to the place he once called home; he wants to return to where he fell in love with his best friend. He wants to return to Eris Vanserra, but not as a man whose heart was broken but as someone who can dare to hope for a future together.

He still wants Eris, and he hates that even after ten years, his wanting has never changed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Azriel's heart presses down on him like a rock heavy with emotion as he closes the cab door. He waves off the driver with his weekend bag in hand and sunglasses pushed back into his hair. He sets off down the dry path leading into the centre of the village and to his uncle's house. The town is small now, and at 28, Azriel notes how close everything else is- his father's house and, a little further down the path, Eris' family home.

Almost like in a movie, pictures flash in front of his vision—of a childhood that seemed unburdened for everyone on the outside. A childhood that maybe wasn't too warm and loving, but one he shared with Eris. They grew up almost in the same exact way, with loving mothers, brutal fathers who didn't shy back from using violence, and brothers who supported that kind of action.

Azriel's jaw tenses, and he stops, only staring ahead at the houses, the facades weathered and dulled over time, at the village stretching out in front of him. Most things have stayed the same. He can make out the same swimming pools, houses, and living rooms he and his friends used to play in. Unchanged little houses with trees on the hills in the far distance where he and Eris used to spend quiet nights together. 

As he walks a little further, he nears an old garden fence. The colour of it is already crumbling, but Azriel still remembers that it was here, right by this fence, next to the big apple tree, where they almost kissed for the first time.

"Are you finally going to tell me what happened?" Eris raises a questioning brow at Azriel, who scrunches his nose in response, his eyes half-closed due to the bright sun. He holds tightly onto his worn school bag and then says, "There is nothing to tell."

"Azriel, I can see your blue eye; it is quite obvious." He reaches out, his fingers curling around Azriel's upper arm, stopping him from walking. "I thought we would share everything with one another."

Azriel shrugs a shoulder. "It was nothing. I ran into–"

"His fist, right. He hit you again, didn't he?"

Azriel shrugs again. 

"I am going to punch him."

"After I punch your father," Azriel chuckles, but the sound lacks warmth or humour. 

"This is messed up," Eris mumbles and steps closer to his best friend, tipping his chin up with his thumb. "But you need to be honest with me. Tell me when he hurts you so I can be there for you."

Slowly, Azriel starts to nod, but then his eyes drop to Eris' lips. Suddenly, He is so much closer, only mere inches away. Eris' eyes are locked with his but also momentarily slide to Azriel's lips, his Adam's apple bobbing. "We can't do this," Eris whispers, but instead of moving away, he leans closer. Azriel does, too, holding his breath. "I know," he answers, his tone equally breathy. "But–"

Eris's baby brother Lucien interrupted them, calling Eris' name from the porch and then running towards the two best friends. Lucien was only seven years old then, and Eris picked him up easily when he reached them—he must be a teenager now.

Azriel remembers that they were both relieved that their moment ended that way, but only two weeks later, they really kissed, and from then on, there was no more holding back. They kissed a lot back then, but always in secret. 

It was two months later that everything they had and loved ended. It was when Beron's cruelty reached its peak, and he—

"Azriel!" The squeaking of door hinges disrupts his daydreaming. "Didn't I tell you to let us know when you arrive?!"

"Mother." Azriel dips his chin after having turned around. "It's good to see you." He cracks a small smile when his mother throws up her hands in despair. 

"You never listen to me, Azriel Marino!"

"I always listen to you, Mama." After closing the distance between them, he wraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses the top of her head. "Always." 

Eleni Marino harrumphs loudly but hugs her son tightly. "Come in. Your uncle is looking forward to seeing you."

Azriel doubts that. His uncle probably only wants to see if he is still the small weakling he always used to call him. But the joke's on Uncle Devlon because Azriel is no longer small or weak. He has grown a lot, including his muscles, which Devlon probably never thought possible. He has changed a lot, and he can't wait to see the look on his uncle’s face. 

"Uncle," Azriel greets upon entering the living and dining room, his chin dipping to his chest, his voice low. His gaze runs over the old man sitting in his armchair - ten years can do a lot to a man – who once used to be a strong and fit army general, is now an old man with white hair and sunken cheekbones. 

"Azriel," he croaks and rises from his chair. "Let me look at you. You have grown up." He assesses him through half-closed eyes, shuffling towards him. "You've grown a lot, boy. How has college been treating you?"

Azriel wants to open his mouth to say that he dropped out of college after the first semester and decided to work instead, but when he meets his mother's gaze, she shakes her head, and it tells him everything he needs to know. 

"College is good. Got good grades and made friends," Azriel says instead, knowing that to keep the peace here, it is wiser to lie a little. Devlon would only ask why he dropped out and then blame them for not having enough money to afford it. Consequently, he would blame Azriel's mother for not working hard enough to make studying at a uni possible for her son. And then blame her for not staying with his father. Abusive or not, it had never mattered to his uncle. So, this small white lie has to do. 

"How's life been treating you, Uncle?"

Devlon shuffles away, wiping his mouth with his hand, and plops down on the armchair again. "Good, good," he mumbles, pulling a blanket over his lap and leaning back. Azriel is sure he dozes off a moment later so he turns back to his mother with a chuckle. 

But there is no amusement on her face. Looking worried, she reaches out her arm to clasp Azriel's hand. "Lunch will be ready in around an hour. Go see him now."

Azriel's throat bobs, his fingers naturally curling tighter around his mother's hand. "What if he doesn't want to see me?"

"You'll only find out if he wants to see you if you go to him. Otherwise, you will be plagued with what-if questions and doubts for the whole weekend. Go see him and talk to him. I'm sure he has missed you just as much." Eleni inhales deeply, "After all, you also used to be best friends at one point."

Best friends and so much more, Azriel thinks. Slowly, he begins to nod, his hands having turned cold, his heart feeling a little heavier, and his feet are somehow rooted to the ground, making it impossible for him to move immediately. He needs just a moment longer, holding onto his mother's hand like he is once again the young man who was sobbing into her shoulder when they left ten years ago. 

"Go now, Azriel. I'm sure he's still at the chapel, preparing everything for the funeral tomorrow."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

With his heart rapidly pounding, Azriel walks down the familiar path to the chapel he used to take many times when he still lived here, his mind swirling with memories. Every step he takes feels heavier as he nears the old house of prayer, wondering if Eris will truly be there. 

He has mindlessly followed his mother's suggestions and now doubt gnaws at him about whether he should have come. Uncertainty clouds his thoughts, and nervousness tightens his chest. What if Eris doesn’t want to see him? What if he ignores him? What if he is mad at him? 

Will he even recognise him after all these years?

Of course he will, Azriel thinks. He hasn't changed much. He has only grown and built up some muscles. His face is still the same.

His heart nearly breaks through his ribcage when he reaches the door, the crisp air burning down his throat with every inhale. For a moment, he feels like fainting or throwing up, but then his hand reaches for the door handle and pulls it down. The door opens slowly, too slowly, and silently. So silently that Eris doesn't notice him. 

He is standing at the altar, arranging some flowers, and for a moment, Azriel forgets how to breathe. 

Eris Vanserra is more beautiful than ever, breathtaking, to say the least. Azriel can't tear his eyes away, slowly letting his eyes run over the man in front of him, and his knees wobble. Eris has cut his hair, but not too short. He also gained some muscles and now wears a beautiful beard that perfectly complements his look.

Azriel stops on the threshold, unable to move further, hand still on the door. 

"Stop that!" Azriel playfully smacks Eris' hand away, lying on the grass, laughing.

"A flower in your hair would look cute."

"I am not cute," Azriel grumbles, sliding his hand into Eris '. The red-haired boy lies down atop his chest and tips his head back to look up at Azriel. 

"You are cute." Eris grins.

"Stop being cheesy."

"Never!" Eris smoothies his freckled hand up Azriel's chest, humming contentedly.

In the middle of this meadow, in the middle of nowhere, far from their village, they are safe. They have taken their bikes to get as far away from prying eyes as possible. Only here can they be true to themselves and love each other more deeply than friends love each other.

"Eris," Azriel hums, lifting the hand that isn't in Eris's hold to brush it through his boyfriend's auburn locks. "You make my heart shake, bend and break. But I can't turn away. And it's driving me wild. You're driving me wild."

Eris hums softly. "I love you, but why do I only find out now that you are one to spout poetry?"

Azriel's laughter rings out over the meadow…

It was probably the last time he had laughed so happily and freely. This moment was beautiful, as was the whole day. Azriel remembers that this day was also when they first slept together.

When he finally catches himself, his hand lets go of the door and he takes one step into the chapel. The inside is cold, and the scent of polished wood, aged hymnals, and candles lies in the air, mingling with the aroma of incense that adds a touch of spice.

Azriel inhales deeply, bracing himself for what he is about to say. A simple greeting, nothing spectacular, but he has no idea if he is ready for it. For whatever is about to follow the greeting. 

But he doesn't have to speculate. Not when Eris has already noticed his arrival.

"I didn't think you would come." He places a candle next to the flowers, then steps back from the altar and turns to Azriel. His eyes run over Azriel slowly, and small flames flicker in Eris' eye. "But here you are. After ten years."

Azriel nearly chokes on his saliva, but in a croaky voice, he manages to say, "My mother—" only for Eris to interrupt him.

"Of course, your mother told you to come here," the red-haired male cuts in. "Of course, she is the reason you are here. She has always checked in. For the past ten years. Has always sent messages for Christmas and my birthday." A small, nostalgic smile appears on Eris' lips, and he wipes his hands down his thighs, clearing the soil and petals from the flower arrangement. 

Azriel didn't know that, and it infuriated him that his mother had never told him—how dare she! How dare she keep contact with Eris and never tell him?

"Don't make it sound like a reprimand," Azriel grumbles. "I wasn't the one to break up–"

"You know why I broke up with you!" Eris counters.

"Because you were a coward."

A snarl parts Eris' lips, hurt flashing in his eyes, and at the exact moment, a pang of hurt pierces right into Azriel's heart. Is this truly how their first meeting after ten years goes?

"Says the one who didn't reach out a single time in all those years." A look of disgust spreads over Eris' face. He shakes his head and then approaches Azriel, stopping right before him. "Not one time."

"I tried to reach out, but you wouldn't accept my request on Instagram!" Azriel snarls,

"I don't even use this app," Eris retorts, "My little brother's girlfriend downloaded it for me, thinking it would be a good way to socialise and maybe meet a partner."

Azriel doesn't really know what to answer. He hoped their first meeting would be different after such a long time, but he had false hopes. Of course, it would go exactly like this. He should have reached out. He should have called, texted, come here, something. 

But he didn't and now must pay the price for it. 

"I didn't forget about you. Is that what you want to hear?"

A cold huff parts Eris' lips, followed by a cynical chuckle. "Hm, too bad that I did. And now I've got things to do. As you might know, my father died." He brushes past Azriel without saying another word, shoving the brown-haired male by his shoulder, and heads for the chapel door. 

He doesn't give Azriel a chance to say something. A moment later, he is gone, and the door falls shut, a tremor coursing through Azriel at the loud pang. 

He is taken right back in time. To the fateful day when his whole life fell apart. The day when Beron–

"I bet you're already hard for me." Azriel chuckles softly, his hand placed on Eris' bare chest, slowly travelling lower until it rests right above Eris' crotch, only the blanket and Eris' boxers separating between them. His lips find the spot right beneath Eris' ear that makes his boyfriend elicit the most sensual noises. Azriel loves those noises and could listen to them forever, so he lets his teeth run over Eris's sensitive skin, then pokes out his tongue and licks it. 

"Always," Eris hums, hips jerking in response to his boyfriend's touch. 

When Azriel's lips ascend, placing a trail of kisses up his boyfriend's throat, he slides his hand beneath the blanket, palming Eris through the fabric of his boxers. 

Their lips meet in a frantic kiss, tongues fighting for dominance when he lets his hand slide beneath the fabric, but—

But the door slams open only a blink of an eye later, rattling the whole room. Beron barrels inside, seething with anger. 

He most definitely drank a lot at the bar beforehand. He should have been longer, a few more hours.

Azriel only remembers a little of what Beron said to them, but a few words stuck. 

"This is disgusting," he spits. "You disgust me!"

He hurdles for the bed, but both boys are unable to move. He is too shocked about Beron catching them and worried about what will happen now that he knows.

"What do you think you are doing, Eris Vanserra?" Beron shouts, pulling Eris up by his arm, and it doesn't take long for the first slap to land upon his face. "Rolling around in bed with a boy! You disgust me." He slaps him again, this time harder.

By now, Azriel is out of bed as well, screaming at the man to let go of his boyfriend and tugging at Beron's arm, but the man is more muscular. He shoves Azriel away; the young man knocks his head against the bedframe, and his vision goes black. Pitch black. Just like his heart, nothing but void filling the place that once used to beat happily for his boyfriend.

The moments after are a blur of consciousness and unconsciousness, and the next thing Azriel remembers is Eris breaking up with him, his face bruised and marred by markings of Beron's anger.

His throat is dry when he leaves the chapel, the back of his mouth aching. He couldn't help him back then because Eris didn't let him. He broke up with him and pushed him away — Beron prohibited them from ever meeting again. He claimed that Azriel had ruined his son, called him all kinds of homophobic nicknames, and threatened to destroy his mother's life should he ever try to get close to Eris again. 

It was the most devastating moment of his life, surpassing even the time when his brothers burned his hands. Beron’s cruelty inflicted wounds on his heart that would never heal.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Azriel's sleep is restless, constantly rolling from one side to the other, the sheets tangled between his legs, his bare chest coated in cold sweat.

Moonlight filters through the curtain-framed window, casting the room in a gentle, blueish glow. It's still night and nowhere close to morning. 

He raises his hand, letting his fingers coast over his lower lip. 

"You need to smile, Az." A grin, reaching from one ear to the other, spreads over Eris' face while he is staring into the camera. "You are always so broody."

"I'm not!" Azriel snaps and playfully shoves his elbow into Eris' ribs who yelps.

"Idiot!" 

"Say that again!" Eris turns to his best friend, and his breath catches. He reaches out, but stops himself.

"Idiot," Azriel chuckles and moves closer.

"Again." Eris leans in, eyes fluttering shut for a second, then dropping to Eris' lips. 

"Id—" Eris' lips close over Azriel, but instead of pulling back, he kisses him right back, his hand falling to his neck, bringing him in a little closer. All hesitance is erased within seconds; there is only Eris on his mind—and his lips.

At first, their mouths meet clumsily, but soon they find their rhythm, lips parting, tongues exploring, tangling, and dancing. Eris places his hands on Azriel's hips, formally having kept them at his side, and that a little awkwardly. He draws Azriel closer, deepening the kiss and eliciting a soft moan from him.

"Not just best friends, huh?" Eris mumbles when pulling back from the kiss. A string of saliva still connects their lips, which he wipes away with the back of his hand.

Tears build up in Azriel's eyes. "I'm in love with you."

"I know," Eris answers, his thumb wiping over Azriel's cheek, catching some stray tears. "And I'm in love with—"

"Fuck!" Azriel rips away the sheets and sits in bed, his whole body feeling clammy from the cold sweat that had built up due to his vivid dreams. He knows he can't stay here, and he knows exactly where he needs to go. He just needs to see Eris and talk to him. He can't let the conversation from earlier hang in the air like this. He needs to fix what he ruined. 

Grabbing the sweater he had earlier discarded in the room and donning it, he is out of the door before he can question his decision to go see Eris. He slips into his shoes as silently as a gazelle and then out the door, hoping his mother won't wake and question him about his whereabouts the following day. 

Azriel straightens up when he walks down the path leading to the gate at the end of the garden. It creaks a little when he opens it, but he ignores it, only one target in mind: Eris. He still knows the way to Eris' place like the inside of pockets. (Maybe a little suspiciously, he queried his mother in the afternoon about whether Eris still lives there, and she confirmed it, so he knows exactly where he needs to go).

Azriel feels a sudden surge of energy – he wants to talk and fix what has been ruined this afternoon. And in the ten years he was absent. 

He walks faster through the large, looming trees, their branches bending in the wind and leaves rustling and swirling. 

Azriel remembers that Eris's favourite season always used to be autumn, and maybe this is a good sign. It is autumn now, visible everywhere outside.  

But his blood runs cold, and his heart slams to a halt when his eyes land on a scene that also twists his gut. Hot and thick, jealousy bubbles up inside him, making the back of his mouth taste bitter.

"Well," Eris laughs, his features bright and joyful, his arm wrapped around the blond male's shoulders. "Thank god I have you."

Tamlin, if Azriel remembers correctly, flashes Eris a big grin. It makes the content of Azriel's stomach sour, and bile creeps up his throat. He can't believe that he truly lost his first love to him. This spoiled, rich prick!

"You are so lucky, Vanserra, to have me. What would you do without me?"

"I guess I would be hopeless," Eris laughs, pulling back his arm and letting it fall to his sides. "Thank you so much, really. For the arrangements, I couldn't have done them all alone, and with you being the best–"

Azriel can't make out the rest or hear what comes after best, but he can only guess that the word that belongs at the end of the sentence is boyfriend. Or worse, husband.

He can't believe it, and in his fury, and by trying to get closer, Azriel doesn't see a more prominent branch on the ground. His foot catches on it, causing him to trip and twist his ankle as he falls. "Fuck!" Azriel groans when his hands come in contact with the damp soil, and then pine needles pierce his skin. "Fucking bastard!"

He sits back on his heels and knows the moment he does, it was a big mistake. His ankle hurts like hell, and he has to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from loudly alerting Eris to the fact that Azriel's sneaking around.

This is all so fucked up, Azriel thinks, and only wants to cry. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

"There you go," Eleni hands Azriel a new cold pack, then lets her hand rest atop his head. "You should have woken me, I didn't even hear you fall."

"I tried to fall silently," Azriel answers sarcastically and groans when he shifts on the couch. His ankle has swollen significantly overnight; stepping on his foot hurts insanely, but he wouldn't let it show. And he would most definitely never reveal what exactly happened. Another small lie – he tripped at the staircase when he got himself something to drink during the night. 

He doesn't know if his mother truly believed him, but she didn't ask any further questions, and Azriel is more than grateful for that. 

"I've been meaning to take a little boat ride with you, Azriel, but I guess we can forget that now."

As if good old Devlon could still ride a boat, Azriel thinks. "What a shame," he says instead, glancing at his uncle but then back at his ankle and the cool pack. The outer ice layer already starts to melt, and small droplets of cold water run down the sides of his foot. 

Devlon doesn't say anything; a few minutes later, he asks Azriel's mother to follow him outside. They leave, and after checking if Azriel is alright with being alone, Eleni goes back into the kitchen to continue with lunch. 

For a moment, Azriel wonders what his stepfather eats when his mother isn't there. Who cooks for him? Or does he order food or eat at his neighbours?

Honestly, Azriel doesn't care, so he rests his head on the pillow again, gets comfy, picks up his phone, and finds a few unread notifications. Most are from Cassian, who sent him photos and videos or tagged him somewhere. He decides to ignore them for now and clicks on the message from his good friend Gwyn. 

Gwyn: Karaoke at 7, my place?

Azriel: Sorry, I can't.

Gwyn: ☹️

Gwyn: Are you brooding? 

Gwyn: Should I get the romance movies out and come over to your place with some ice cream?

Azriel: You‘re not funny, Berdara…I'm busy.

Gwyn: Busy? Busy how? Are you on a date? 😏

Gwyn: 😏😏😏😏

Gwyn: Is he hot? Send a pic if he is!

Azriel places his phone screen down on the couch table and blows out a long breath. He lifts his gaze to the window, where he sees his uncle and stepfather standing outside in the garden, discussing something about the old cherry tree. He hears his mother in the kitchen, still cooking, and knows he has a bit of privacy.

He picks up his phone and clicks on Gwyn's name. Her lovely smile pops up on his screen when it rings, and then her voice sounds through the speaker, and Azriel lifts his phone to his ear.

"Hey!" Gwyn says, her voice tinged with a hint of worry. "You're alright?"

"I went home."

"Home to your apartment? Or home like…Massachusetts home?"

"The latter."

"Oh god!" Gwyn's voice is loud and tinged with surprise. "I'll ask again, are you alright?"

"I guess I am, I–"

"Eris?"

Just like his other best friends, Gwyn knows about his past with Eris. It wasn't too easy to open up, but on an emotional night together on his rooftop terrace with quite a bit of alcohol in their blood, he poured his heart out to his friend. 

"I thought our first time seeing each other after such a long time would go differently."

"I'm sorry, Az," Gwyn mumbles sadly. "But I think you just need time. Maybe you can ask Rhys if you can stay a little longer?"

"I don't think it will help much." Azriel inhales a deep breath and sighs loudly. "Ten years is a long time, Gwyn. And not checking in with him once…it hurt him more than I could ever imagine." He lets his head fall back into the pillows.

"I understand, and I know that it is a damn long time, but if you still love him, it doesn't matter," Gwyn answers.

"It isn't weird that I still love him after such a long time?" Azriel asks, heart aching so much he folds a hand over his chest.

"Nope," his friend says, popping the p. "The heart wants what it wants, and if two souls belong together, they will eventually find their way back to each other. It isn't weird that you still love him; your first love will always play a big role in your life."

"Thank you."

"There's Nothing to thank me for, Az. Go get your man now." Her laughter is radiant even over the phone, and it gives Azriel the energy he needs to take the next step and do as she said: get his man.

"You think you can make it to the funeral tomorrow or– oh, I am so sorry, I didn't know you were on the phone." 

Azriel places his phone down and shakes his head. "The call just ended, and yes, Mama, I can."

He has to. He didn't come all this way to stay in his uncle's home.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Another sleepless night follows the previous one, and as silly as it might seem to anyone who finds out about it, Azriel leaves Devlon's house once again in the middle of the night. This time limping, though. He drags himself down the staircase, which seems so much longer when you have a torn ankle. He manages to open the front door as silently as possible and slips through it. 

It is the only chance he gets. The funeral is the following day, and then he will leave again. He has to talk to Eris, having been a coward all afternoon.

Once again, he is met by the crisp night air, only the sound of the wind dancing on the lake nearby and rustling the leaves of the large, looming trees in his ears surrounding him. 

Picking up a few pebbles, he heads to Eris' family home. He walks down the small concrete path he has walked probably over two thousand times in his life. It still looks almost the same; a few trees have been cut down during his absence, but other than that, the buildings, the pavement, and the fences are still the same. 

Azriel allows his gaze to stray, looking into some front yards. Even in the dark, he can make out the small swimming pools and swings. He remembers how he and Eris often met up at night, sitting on the swings in his uncle's garden, talking for hours about anything and everything. 

They mostly only returned to their homes when the sun started to rise and slept until midday (of course, that was only possible during their breaks). 

Azriel smoothes his hand through his hair, his heart having and picking up speed the closer he gets to Eris' place. Yesterday he was stopped, but tonight they will speak. His ankle still hurts, but he barely pays any attention to it, so focused on all the thoughts and questions in his mind. 

What if he never moved away? Would they have found a way to be together and maybe already be married now? 

He knows this is a silly fantasy, but one that is so beautiful it almost draws tears to his eyes. He can imagine them being married. He can imagine it so perfectly and loves the thought of it—and that even after ten years. 

He and Eris fell asleep within each other's arms every night, waking together, having breakfast together, going to work, and then spending the evening together. And that on repeat for as long as they live. 

It is what they always dreamt about back then. And it is what Azriel still thinks about now. It felt like that with no one he dated in the past ten years. He never felt like that. He never felt like he would love to spend the next 50 years with them, but with Eris?

With Eris, he can imagine everything.

His heart is racing like a wild horse when he enters the front yard of the large house, half of it swallowed by the large, looming forest behind it. They playfully used to call Eris' home Forest House when they were children, but when Azriel considers it now, he has to admit it really applies to it – it is a forest house.

He circles the house until he reaches his destination, still knowing exactly which window belongs to Eris' room. He climbed through it many times in their teen years, sneaking in in the middle of the night to–

Azriel cuts off his thoughts and turns his attention back to the pebbles in his sweaty palms. His gaze lifts to the window, and before he can stop himself, the first pebble slides out of his hand and strikes. Silence follows. He throws another. Then another. And another. 

He is about to give up, his heart crushing in his chest, pressing down on his stomach, when a light flickers on in Eris' room. Eris appears in front of his window and glances outside, his long red hair tousled, and he is only dressed in thin sleeping pants. 

Azriel lifts his arm, waving, and it takes Eris a moment to adapt to the dark and then spot him. He opens his window, shakes his head, and grumbles in an annoyed voice, "Go home and sleep!"

But Azriel won't give up that easily. "We need to talk." He is too stubborn to give up this time.

"So you can call me a coward again?" Eris huffs loudly.

"We need to talk about us," Azriel presses.

"At three in the morning?" Eris braces his hands on the windowsill, leaning closer. "My father is getting buried tomorrow, I need to sleep."

Azriel swallows his nervousness and worry, and his hands ball into fists, crushing the pebbles. "Please, Eris. Please, listen to me."

Eris steps away from the window, and Azriel's heart drops, just like his shoulders. The light in Eris' room goes off. 

Then there is nothing but silence and darkness. The darkness creeps in around him. The wind howls, and a shudder courses through Azriel. He is shaking when he bends down to pick up some pebbles again, his ankle aching fiercely, but it is nothing compared to the pain inside his heart. It hurts so much.

But he won't give up like that. Not so easily. He messed up the previous day and in the years prior. This is his last chance, and he is going to take it. 

The moment he lifts his hand, ready to throw another small stone, the house's back door suddenly opens. 

Azriel's breath catches, and he feels like his knees will give in at any moment. 

There he is. Having donned a thin tank top, Eris stands in the doorframe, his eyebrow raised. "Talk."

Azriel takes a step forward, trying to act as if everything is fine. "I am sorry for calling you a coward." He limps another step forward, grinding his teeth hard to bite back on the pain. 

"Okay," Eris answers tightly, then his gaze dips, and he looks at Azriel's very obviously swollen ankle. "I assume that happened when you tried to spy on me Friday night? Did you see what you wanted to see?" Eris raises a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles in his upper arms rippling with the movement. 

"I wasn't spying on you."

"Of course, Spymaster." The corner of Eris' mouth kicks up when he uses the nickname some kids gave Azriel in their childhood. He always used to spy on the adults and steal cookies and cakes when they didn't look, earning him this title. Azriel has completely forgotten about it, and his lips part in silent surprise. 

"I went for a walk."

"At three in the morning?" Eris closes the back door behind him. "That's a normal time for people to take a walk."

"You were also taking a walk with your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend!" Eris almost shouts, then starts to laugh so hard he has to bend over. It infuriates Azriel, and he braces himself for hearing Eris say something like: "He is my husband, you dumbass."

"Tamlin is not my boyfriend." Eris has calmed a little and now approaches Azriel, his bare feet padding softly over the cool, dewy grass. "He is my best friend, and this guy is as straight as a pole and married to Briar. I'm not sure if you remember her."

Azriel can barely swallow around the lump of shame in his throat. "You are not–"

"No, Azriel. But why do you care?"

"Why do you think I care?"

"Yes, this is what I am asking, Azriel. Why would you care? When you didn't care enough to call a single time?"

"You'll never let me forget that, huh?" Azriel spits.

Eris closes the distance between them faster than Azriel can breathe and is in his face the next moment, forehead pressing against his. "Because it broke my fucking heart. It tore me apart and left my soul in shards on the ground. Because I loved you, and you just left me when everything fell apart."

Azriel's heart breaks anew. "Mum was moving away with me; I couldn't have stayed here alone."

"But you could have called."

"You broke up with me." Azriel flattens his palms against Eris' chest, feeling his warm skin despite the cold night air against his palms. But he doesn't push Eris away; he only rests his hands on his ex-boyfriend's chest. "I couldn't reach out again."

"Why?" Eris growls. "What hindered you? I thought you used to love me."

"I did love you," Azriel answers honestly. "That's why I couldn't reach out again. Beron hurt you so much because of me. He forced you to break up with me. He punched you bloody that night, Eris, I haven't forgotten about that. He broke your collarbone." Azriel swallows thickly, tears filling his eyes. "When I think back to this moment, I still hear your cries, I still see the blood–I couldn't let this happen again. You needed to get rid of me, and that for good." 

"Azriel…" Eris breathes, and it seems as if he doesn't know how to continue. 

Azriel's head starts to spin suddenly, having finally revealed the secret he kept to himself for the past ten years. He has finally given Eris the reason for his ignorance, and it feels like a heavy weight is lifted from his chest. 

"You were too good to be good for me." Azriel's breath tingles Eris' skin, his gaze dropping to his lips. "You deserved so much better. You deserved someone else, someone better. You deserve someone better." Azriel looses a long breath that cascades down Eris' throat and his chest. "But that doesn't mean that I have stopped thinking about you." 

"I haven't stopped thinking about you either," Eris admits, voice equally breathy, his hand sliding around Azriel's waist, bringing him closer. "Night and day, you have been on my mind. No matter what I tried, no matter who I was with, it was always you on my mind."

"It was always you, Eris." Azriel's Adam's apple bobs. They breathe the same air, their bodies almost flush against one another. And yet, it feels as if there are millennia between them. The time they have missed.

"Why haven't you told me before?"

"Because I was worried about you. I knew you would find a way to get to me and reach out, and if Beron found out–" Azriel inhales a long breath, his eyes close. "I never knew loving could hurt this good. And it drives me wild, 'cause when you look like that, I've never ever wanted to be so bad; oh god, you are still driving wild, Eris."

"You are driving me wild, Azriel," Eris huffs. "Showing up here like that, looking like that, and–fuck, I still want you the same way. Is that even possible after such a long time?"

Their lips meet in a hasty kiss, and their feet, even Azriel's injured one, move fully on their own accord until Azriel's back is pressed against the wall of the garden shed. Eris' hands vigorously roam his body, tongues tangling when their mouths open to one another. 

Eris' hands and lips still know their way around, and it truly drives Azriel wild and insane. He feels like he is once again getting drunk on the taste of Eris, on the feel of his body against his own, and it seems like a fever dream that this is truly happening. 

"You still want me, Eris?" Azriel breathes, their lips only parting for a slight second.

"Yes." Eris pushes against him, making him feel exactly how hard he already is, only from a few kisses. "I've never stopped wanting you. No one felt like you. Nothing felt like being with you. It was only ever you. And still is. I've wanted to hate you so much for leaving me alone, but I failed."

"I'm glad you did, because I did too. I failed at trying to forget you, at stopping to love you."

Eris' lips kiss a trail down the side of Azriel's throat, teeth grazing his skin softly and eliciting soft sighs from his former best friend. "You want me now?"

"I always want you, Eris," Azriel pants. "I have always wanted you."

Their bodies move fully on their own accord, guided and driven by sheer desire and need, the longing that has grown so much and so stark over the time they were apart. And after asking for Azriel's consent, there is no more holding back for Eris. For either of them. 

Eris lowers himself to the ground, kneeling, and starts to toy with the button and the zipper on Azriel's jeans. They ignore the fact that they are outside, in the garden where people could see them. Their need for each other right here and now drowns out every little part of rationality. 

After freeing Azriel's already half-hard length, Eris strokes him a few times, loving the soft, breathy gasps that leave Azriel in reaction to his doing. He smooths his hand down the hard length of his shaft, the skin yet soft beneath his palm, and then parts his lips. 

"Ten fucking years," Eris rasps, tongue swirling to collect the bead of liquid already gathered at the tip before fully sucking him into his mouth.

He works him softly at first, and Azriel finds himself moaning at the feeling of his cock engulfed in the wet heat of Eris' mouth, his hand falling into his long red locks, tugging softly at first. Eris begins to suck harder and move his mouth a little faster; his hand grips the back of his mouth, holding on tightly. 

Using his mouth and hand together, Eris hollows his cheeks and holds eye contact with Azriel, which is everything he needs to tip him over the edge. He bucks his hips into Eris' face until he comes with a shout, and Eris greedily swallows around him, drinking him down like he has been a starved male for centuries. 

"Fuck yes!" Eris expresses when he sits back on his heels. He locks his hooded gaze on Azriel, his hand wiping over the drool and Azriel's come running down his cheek. "I've missed this."

"I missed you," Azriel answers and bends down, reaching for Eris to bring him in for a kiss, but cries out when his ankle twitches again. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"You regret what we did?"

"No," Eris answers tightly, carefully tending Azriel's ankle and applying the last bit of cream still on his fingertips. He wipes them clean on a cloth hanging from the table and picks up a bandage. Before he continues, he adjusts Azriel's leg on his lap. "No, I don't."

The moment Azriel cries out in pain, Eris immediately knows he needs to take care of Azriel's leg. He drags him inside the house to examine the injury despite Azriel's protests. Only a minute later, they ended up in the kitchen of Eris' home, now sitting at the dining table that is still familiar to Azriel, with only a small oil lamp lit on the kitchen counter.

"But why are you so calm then?" Azriel asks, hoping to catch his eyes, but Eris keeps looking at his ankle.

"I am just thinking…"

"About?"

"About us."

Us. It still sounds so beautiful, and when Eris says it, it gives Azriel hope.

"What did it feel like…going away, I mean." Eris lifts his eyes for a brief moment, hoping to catch his gaze.

Azriel sighs loudly. "It was awful. The first days, weeks, months. I only cried. I made new friends in New York that helped me out of my misery, but that doesn't mean I didn't miss you daily. I always thought about you and knew you were feeling the same." He wipes a hand over his eyes. "I knew that if I called you, I would only make it worse. For both of us. There was no way we could see each other again any time soon…"

Eris nods slowly. "I gave up at some point. I called a few times, but you never answered. Then, Beron forced me to delete your number and all the pictures I had with you. I could save a few on my computer, but the rest was all gone."

"All of our silly videos and photos?" Azriel asks and places his hand on Eris'. The man nods in answer.

"I'll try to find them on my old phone. I'm sure I still have it somewhere." A small smile appears on his lips and a little light returns to his eyes. "Also, those with your little brother." Azriel chuckles softly. "How is Lucien?"

"A menace," Eris breathes. "He was a sweet boy until puberty hit him with full force. He was all about girls and his appearance, but he still did well in school. He has been dating the same girl for a few years now. They got together when they were fourteen and are still going strong. She might be his soulmate. Elain, she's a sweet girl."

Azriel smiles at that. "I'm glad he's doing well."

"Yeah," Eris sighs. He deserves a good life. "He will be here for the funeral. He said it is a kind of closure."

Azriel nods slowly. "Did he move away?"

"No," Eris answers, "but he spends every other weekend with his biological dad." 

Azriel remembers the little affair, the unspoken story of how Lucien and Eris only share a mother. Eris found out about it very early on and obviously told Azriel. Back then, they shared everything with each other.

"I'm glad to hear he has contact with him now." Azriel inhales deeply. At least someone has luck with their father, he thinks. 

Eris smiles, at least a little, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I've always hoped you would just show up here again someday. I even thought about going to New York, but I thought I would make a fool out of myself – suddenly showing up in the big city with hopes and dreams for us while it was possible that you were already married or at least had a partner."

A breathy chuckle leaves Azriel. "I was dating a few people in the ten years, but it never felt right. It never felt as right as it did with you."

"I know what you mean, Azriel. I know this feeling." Eris inhales a long, deep breath. "I've always thought it was because you will never forget your first love, and somehow they will always be important to you, but I now know that it is because there is no one in this world like you. I fell in love with you because you are my counterpart and everything I could and would ever hope for in a partner. I fell in love with everything about you, and no one would ever compare to you."

Azriel's fingers curl tighter around Eris, and he leans in, kissing his lips softly. "No one compares to you. I fell in love with your charm and wonderful character and soon realized that no one is like you. You are one in a million, and finding someone like you…I was the luckiest idiot on this planet until I ruined everything."

"Beron ruined it."

"I did, too." Azriel shakes his head. "I shouldn't have given up that easily. I should have fought for us. I should have fought Beron for you. I should have fought for our future."

Eris swallows thickly, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I broke up with you; maybe I shouldn't have given up that easily, either. Let's agree that we both made mistakes and didn't do everything right, but this was in the past. Let it be in the past and focus on the future."

"Can you forgive me so easily?" Azriel asks, his heart heavy, his stomach churning. He bites down on the inside of his cheeks.

Eris' shoulders lift with a deep breath. "I can, if you can forgive me for everything I've said."

"I can." Eris nips at Azriel's lips, then lets his forehead rest against Azriel's. "You will go back to New York tomorrow, right?"

"I'll ask my boss to allow me to stay a little longer," Azriel whispers. "He is one of my closest mates. He won't say no." He kisses the corner of Eris' lips. "But yes, I will have to return in a few days. I have my work there and…I can't give everything up there so easily."

"I know. I wouldn't want you to give up everything there." Eris' eyes close, and his heart sinks into his gut. He wants to leave with Azriel and move to the big city with him, but can he leave everything here behind so easily? 

He has no job at the moment, as he has been taking care of his ill father in the past months and had to take leave and then quit. It wasn't easy, but working as a doctor before earned him a bit of money that he had on the side, which tided him over the months. So technically, he could start anew in the big city. But that would mean leaving everything here behind: his mother, his brothers.

"My apartment in New York is definitely made for two people, so…" A hopeful smile appears on Azriel's lips. 

Eris smiles in return; this time, it reaches his eyes, where hope and anticipation spark to life. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Are you ready?" Azriel looks at him, holding eye contact, although Eris seems to find reciprocating difficult. 

Beron has never been a good father, but the funeral day isn't easy. Beron was still his father, and from time to time, they had good moments, moments where they could laugh and smile together. But those days were sparse. 

He inhales a deep breath and exhales loudly. "I am."

Everyone is already inside; he and Azriel are the only people still left outside. The funeral will only begin when he enters, so he allows himself this time to breathe and collect himself, knowing he is not missing anything inside. 

"I really am." He nods slowly. "You will sit with me?" Eris swallows thickly. "Stay with me?"

"Always," Azriel answers. I will never, ever leave you again." He pulls down the door handle, and they enter together. They stroll down the aisle leading to the altar together, their steps synchronised until they reach their bench, where Eris' mother and two of his brothers are already sitting. 

Azriel's hand naturally slides into Eris when he sits down beside him. The pastor steps onto the dais, and piano music starts to sound from the back of the chapel. 

"I'm here for you, Eris," Azriel whispers, not turning to look at Eris but staring straight ahead at the coffin. "Forever."

"Forever?"

"Forever. Move to New York with me." 

Eris doesn't give him a verbal answer, only squeezes his hand in response, yet a slight smile that feels so out of place for a funeral appears on his lips. Always sounds just too good. Especially when it means forever with Azriel.

general Azris tag list (please let me know if you want to be added/removed): @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @talibunny30 @berryzxx

thank you so much for beta reading @pippsmcgee and @moonlightazriel 💛

[isa-ghost]

(BTW I'm very down with wanting sapnap being dead for being sapnap I just wanted to be sure I was hip qirh the kids and pissed for the Correct reason)

DLSKFLSJFSKF SORRY I WAS OUT TOUCHING GRASS WHEN YOU SENT ME YOUR FIRST ANON.

Also in hindsight I worded this answer like you have 0 clue who Shartnap is but I'm gonna keep it that way for anyone who sees this and Doesn't Go Here At All.

Here's a good overview post abt Crapnap from my friend.

This Specific Instance we're wishing death upon him more than the default amount because he's participating in Squidcraft, a Latino-made/hosted and primarily Latino-played Minecraft competition with a big cash prize. (Aka that irrelevant ass sweaty ass racist Texan is literally only playing to win more money he doesn't need. He also won last year's SC 🙄). Last year there were a few non-Latino players (like him), but this year there were a BUNCH, most likely thanks to the existence of QSMP. There were Americans, Brits, and French just to name a few!

My mutual @pixiecaps has been the most outspoken on my dash about the dumbshit being in Squidcraft, so I'll tag them here and they can add any additional context they see fit in the reblogs or replies. They might have insight or perspective that I don't bc they're Latino and I'm not. 👍🏻 And this was baby's first Squidcraft for me purely bc QSMP members were in it, so idk much abt previous ones whereas Pix might.

It's annoying enough that Crapnap is in the competition at all, but yesterday a bunch of other previous DSMP members (Philza, Tubbo, Foolish, to name a few) all died in one of the games together and were thus eliminated. Shatnap's petty nobody poopy ass was literally CHEERING when they all died, which is poor sportsmanship for one (he has none tho let's be real here), and two: No Toxicity is one of the competition rules. So by all means, he should be investigated by the Squidcraft mods and (hopefully) disqualified for his bullshit.

And some additional context bc my guess is this all plays into why he was so outwardly toxic like that: Tubbo has outspokenly hated the Dr*m Team for a while now. He also had direct beef with Shatnap bc the dumbfuck tried migrating to Kick (basically Twitch for bigots & predators, to say the least).

AND, most relevant and recent: Philza was just on Tommy and Jack Manifold's podcast Shut Up I'm Talking about a week ago, and on the Patreon version of the episode the three of them talked about how Dr*m is a piece of shit, they all hate him, and how nasty and weird he was behind the scenes during DSMP, especially to Tommy.

Dr*m Team 100% knows this was all said, bc a) some of it was clipped ofc and b) Dr*m fucking posted the DSMP world download as damage control after people started talking abt what was said on the episode bc god forbid he look bad and get negative attention for 2 seconds. He's been begged by numerous people for LITERALLY LIKE 3 YEARS to drop the world download and only JUST did it to do damage control and make himself look all good and innocent or At Least distract people (spoiler alert: didn't work, he just made himself look even more pathetic. He basically gave the people who correctly hate him a gift in addition to clowning on him).

Shartnap literally lives with Dr*m, so there's no way he doesn't know Tommy, Jack & Phil have spoken some of the truth TECHNICALLY PRIVATELY. IT WAS ON PATREON BEHIND A PAYWALL.

Soooo yeah. As usual, Dr*m Team fucking sucks ass (many such cases, no one is surprised). Crapnap is the ""last remaining"" of the Dr*m Team to not have some Extreme horrific controversy and that's what keeping him able to be in competitions like this, rather than isolated to a shitty corner with the other two dumbfucks. (CLARIFICATION: He DOES have controversies. You can assume what some of them are based off of things said in that post I linked. Plus the Kick thing. But in comparison to Dr*m [a groomer, among other things], and George [sexual predator, among other things], Shatnap is ""the least awful"" of them, which is almost definitely why he's still ""welcome"" in competitions like this one).

Additional silly context: I'm calling him variations of shit because he openly admitted sometime earlier this year that he shit himself (or at least sharted) on stream.

[sgiandubh]

Hello how are you? I follow several shippers' blogs and I noticed that every now and then some bloggers publish hateful messages they received. My question is about mental health: how do you deal with it? I understand that your presence here is relatively recent, but have you ever regretted something?

Dear Mental Health Anon,

This is the kind of submissions I welcome with all my heart, because they are benevolent and witty. Forgive me already for what I suspect will be a long answer. It is not the pleasure of hearing me talk that prompts them, but the sincere intention to answer deserving asks as clearly, fully and honestly as I can.

The short answer is : I am fine, Fall is slowly coming and nights are starting to be really chilly. There's some light rain tapping on the roof of my flat and I will spend my week-end wandering around some of my favorite places on Earth. And now, onwards to the consistent and interesting ask of yours...

The worst trolling message I have ever seen in this fandom is the one I am immediately going to post below, because I think it should serve us all as warning and reminder. It was posted on a blog I have been reading from the beginning of my long lurking days on Tumblr: @cb4tb is one of the most balanced and articulate people in this corner of the Internet. I remember being shocked by its cold and very coherent violence. The feat of a casebook sociopath, who thinks her asks in Spanish (I am 200% certain about it) and who has an appalling command of English grammar. Written on Christmas' Eve and on purpose:

Compared to the alarming slander @cb4tb got (whatever for is a mystery, she is non conflictual and posts very witty business insights) on a day that should be completely taboo for every civilized human being (you don't need to believe in God to respect one of Christianity's most important celebrations), whatever hate I could get in here is definitely subpar. Most of it did not make it on my page and went straight to the bin. But it's not always easy: I am as human as you, Anon, and sometimes I feel personally insulted and revolted by the smugness and pettiness of it all. However, I must immediately add their hate never made me give up an inch of my convictions. They are the result of a long interval of watching and pondering, coupled with my own observations I gladly share with like-minded women all around the world. That often hits a nerve or bruises overinflated egos on the Other Side. So be it: I am not here to be meek and obedient, if I never was meek and obedient in real life. I am here to bring clarity and build trust, which incidentally resonates very closely to what I do for a living. That probably rates me as a moderate on the shipper spectrum, in the sense that by complete design I put aside some divisive topics I firmly chose not to discuss. I am not interested to bring attention on me, in here, and the least thing I'd like is to be a vector of discord. So that would also rate me as a peacemaker of sorts - and yes, that sounds perhaps pretentious, but I believe it is needed, especially now.

I only felt a clear intention to threaten me twice, both in DM. The first time it curiously came from one extreme fringe of the shipper community and I brushed it off, because it was an empty, almost ridiculous threat. I politely denied and that was it - two persons blocked me and there were no other consequences to it. The second time, an anti came to confront me on an irrelevant point, with a very aggressive undertone. I blocked and almost forgot about it. If you have it clear enough in your mind that such things cannot be avoided and, at the same time, you know that your own moral compass is not compromised, these details will not affect you. At all. I confidently promise you that. Last but not least: if you are not great with compartmentalizing, don't step in the arena. It can seriously ruffle your self-esteem and it's not worth it.

So this is how I deal with it: I focus on what I have to say (does it bring something new? interesting? positive? thought-provoking?), on the way of saying it (above all, be kind and gracious to every other shipper) and on the right moment to say it (only when I am honestly sure I can do it with no unwanted consequences). But I will stand in solidarity with any shipper (any single one of them) who is humiliated, belittled or disparaged, with not a single shred of fear in the world. And I would also fend for myself if necessary, if I am getting over-the-top slander: all the other yapping, I ignore. Sometimes (often, even) it's more interesting to watch.

And if anything else fails, I go for a long drive and have a coffee at the seaside or simply open a book or listen to some Bach or call Someone. Or take this little big guy out for a lazy walk in the park:

You ask me if I regret anything. Absolutely not. I have received more than I could ever give, in here. I have met spectacular women and men, I have grown very fond of and feel very close to. I have had the immense satisfaction of sharing their secrets, their worries, their plans and this means trust, in my book, for which I will never tire saying how grateful I am. I also strived to respond in kind and I mean to honor this unwritten contract. Last but not least, I have watched this community slowly dusting off months of sadness and perhaps starting to open up again.

And all of this makes me damn proud of who we are, Anon. Thank you for dropping by! You are always welcome on my page.

[absurdthirst]

Simple As That {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Internalized homophobia/bi-erasure, actually homophobia, mentions of cheating, divorce, anxiety, panic, self doubt, Marcus being the best

Comments: Telling your boyfriend that you're bisexual when Pride month comes around isn't easy, especially when a friend is going through a horrible time because of their own sexual identity.

A/N: Happy Pride Month! 🌈 I know that I've had my own moments of panic and self-erasure and I'm sure a lot of you have as well. Be authentic to yourself. Live, laugh, love whoever you wish. Just know that I love you for who you are.

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You’ve talked yourself out of this conversation for so long, you wonder if it’s even necessary. After all, what does it matter? You are with a man who is bright, funny, thoughtful and caring. One who is empathetic to your hectic life, because he has his own full plate, and never seems to mind when you just don’t have the social battery to go out. He even asks if you have the energy to let him take care of you, or if he should spend the night at his own apartment. In short, Marcus Pike is perfect. 

Still, guilt hangs over you like a shroud, weighing you down and making you bite your lip when the topic is brought up or even represented on tv. Like there is a big neon sign flashing over your head that screams ‘LIAR!!’ in a pink, blue and purple hues. 

You tell yourself that it doesn’t matter if you're bisexual. You are in a relationship with a man. Even though younger you would be completely pissed off by the fact that you are self-erasing a part of yourself that seemed so central to who you are. 

You’re scared. You can admit that. You’ve seen how some of your friends' relationships have imploded when their sexuality was used against them. Hell, even now, Anthony’s marriage is dead, going through the nastiest divorce that you’ve ever seen with Charlotte accusing him of sleeping with every single one of his friends. Apparently the gym was code for a gang bang in the locker room, and he called her ‘Charlie’ because he wanted to pretend his wife was a man. It didn’t matter that she was the one who offered that nickname when they met three years ago, it was being used against him now as some sort of weird, homophobic proof of his infidelity. 

Personally, you think she’s crazy and it was unlikely that the marriage would have lasted even five more years, but  the viciousness of her accusations managed to dig into you. Permeate under your skin when you had heard what she had accused him of, how immediately Anthony was untrustworthy around anyone and everyone, all because he was bisexual. The fact that she had known this before they got married was irrelevant. It mattered now and it was crushing your friend. 

Tapping your nail on the desktop calendar, you try to ignore the date. June first. The beginning of Pride Month. A month to celebrate who you are authentically. This month is different from the rest since you have gotten serious with a gorgeous FBI agent with a boyish smile. 

Instead of some kind of Pride event, you’ve penciled in a date with him. Knowing that he will be eager to see you since the latest case had taken him out of town for nearly two weeks. Two weeks of self doubt and second guessing. Two weeks of dealing with the fallout of Anthony’s marriage crumbling, since he is sleeping on your couch - even though it’s ironic she’s not accusing him of sleeping with you. Two weeks of deciding that you should never tell Marcus about that side of yourself and then chastising yourself in the same single breath. 

It doesn’t matter if you never kiss another girl again. Never sleep with one. That Marcus is the only person that you are intimate with for the rest of your life. You are bisexual. You are sexually and romantically attracted to both men and women. It doesn’t matter that on the outside you appear as a heteronormative couple, you’re not. Because you’re not. To deny that would be to deny a huge part of yourself. 

You sigh softly and consider canceling. Hiding away for the next few days, hell, maybe even the entire month. Just so you don’t have to be out with Marcus around the flags or the events that were planned throughout the city for the entire month. Pretending it doesn’t exist. 

Your phone lights up, buzzing as a picture of Marcus pops up. It was one that you had snapped while he was trying, and failing to cook dinner about a month ago. Looking adorably flustered, it had become his contact picture and it makes you smile every time you see it. 

You smile this time too, but it’s a nervous smile. Picking up the phone and trying to ignore the way that your stomach rocks and rolls like the waves of a turbulent sea, you answer. “Hey, babe.” You hum, hoping you sound completely normal to your boyfriend.

“Hey.” Marcus always sounds like he’s excited to hear your voice, the warm, buttery sound of his greeting relaxing you a bit and making the smile turn a bit brighter. “I just landed and wondered if I could come over.” 

It’s completely Marcus to want to drop everything and rush over to see you. Despite the fact that he might be exhausted from traveling, or working nonstop over the two weeks. Only one of the reasons that he didn’t know about your houseguest. You hadn’t wanted to talk to him about it over the phone since you couldn’t see his face. Watch his eyes as you explain. 

“How about I come to your place?” You ask, glancing back at the little flag that Anthony had stuck in your pen organizer. The lines of the damn thing mocking you, although you know why he is stubbornly being prideful about Pride month this year. “We can relax, and you can sleep in your own bed for the first time in two weeks.” Although you might not be sleeping beside him.

Marcus groans, and you can tell that he likes that idea. “I’ll pick up some take out on the way home.” He agrees quickly, so you know that he was offering to come over simply because he felt like it was the right thing to do. “See you in half an hour?” 

“Half an hour.” You agree, ending the call and trying not to feel sick about something that should be so easy. It’s not, but you need to tell him. 

****

“I’ve really missed you.” Marcus leans in to kiss you softly. Food consumed and he looks infinitely more relaxed after a quick shower and tossing on some of his oldest, comfiest sweats. Leaning into you on the couch and you can see that spark of desire in his eyes. It’s easy to see and you bite your lip, determined to tell him before anything else happens tonight. 

“Anthony’s getting divorced.” You blurt out, making him pause as he leans in. “He’s been staying on my couch for the past two weeks.” 

“Shit.” Marcus frowns and leans back, his brows pulled in slightly and he sighs. “Is he okay? What happened?” 

You don’t want to tell him the details, knowing that it’s not your place to say anything to him about Anthony’s sexuality since you don’t know if it’s ever been brought up before with Marcus around. He knows your friends and likes them, but it’s not like everyone is talking about who they are attracted to. Everyone is in committed relationships except for a few who are serial daters. “They- Charlie thinks Anthony is cheating.” 

Marcus’ eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Damn.” He huffs. “I hope that’s not true, I doubt it is, from what I gathered, he seemed pretty damn committed to Charlie.” 

“He is- was.” You correct. “But there’s no going back now. Not with what’s been said.” It was sad, the things that were hurled at him in anger or spite and you know it hurt him a lot. “He’s staying on my couch.” 

“Okay.” Marcus nods quickly, reaching out and rubbing your arm. “Let me know if I can help in any way. Or…” He shrugs slightly. “I do have another bedroom. He can crash here instead of your couch.” He offers. “No offense to the sofa, it’s comfortable, but a bed is more comfy.” 

You smile, shrugging slightly and nod. “I’ll tell him about your offer. It’s sweet, but he might say no.” You hum and Marcus tilts his head curiously but doesn’t ask why. He’s good about not prying. Especially for an FBI agent.

“It’s available.” Is all he offers before he scoots closer to you. “So I want to take you out.” He starts. “But I wanted to make sure that it was okay before I surprise you with it.” 

That’s unusual for Marcus. He tends to like grand gestures and this makes you look at him curiously. “Oh?” 

“There’s an event this weekend. And I always go to it every year and I was wondering if you would come with me.” He tells you, keeping his dark eyes on yours and you feel the dread that has been in your stomach all afternoon start to slowly ebb under the weight of his soft expression. 

“What’s that?” You wonder if it’s some kind of work event. Or even a marathon. Marcus has been groaning about needing to start running again. Apparently he has been running marathons every year, at least one, since he was in college. The beer runs had turned into more respectable 5 and 10ks. 

“Pride.” Marcus ventures, his brows raising up and he looks a little nervous. “There’s a pub crawl this weekend and I just always go to something, and I thought that it might not be as….large as the parade and I thought you might like to go…and if you don’t, that’s okay, but-” Marcus is rambling, something that you notice that he does when he is worried about what you might say so he feels the need to provide more details or arguments that back up his ‘case’ so to speak. 

Your own sense of having water poured over your head washes over you and you reach out. “Marc.” Touching his hand makes him freeze mid rambling sentence and you let the silence hange between you for a moment. You don’t ask a question, but you’re sure that your eyes are begging him to explain. 

“I just- I thought you might like to go since, well, yeah.” He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “I thought that since you are bisexual, you might like to go? Unless you don’t celebrate pride and your boyfriend is being incredibly insensitive? If that’s the case, I’m so sorry.” 

“You know?” Your eyes widen and abject horror is probably spreading across your features even though you can’t even feel anything other than your thundering heart. “H-how do you know?” Who told him, how did he find out? Did he go through your phone one night to find the small stash of porn you had saved for those nights when you wanted to think about a woman. Fantasy isn’t cheating, you’ve always believed that, and you know that Marcus has his own porn habit, but how does he know?

Marcus frowns, confusion clouding his face and he shakes his head. “I- was I not supposed to know?” He asks quietly, his hand sliding back to rest on the back of the sofa to give you space if you needed it. 

“I just don’t- who told you?” You don’t feel like any of your friends have said anything, but who knows? Your stomach feels like every bite of your dinner is going to come up. 

His look of confusion deepens and he shakes his head. “Babe…..you told me.” He tells you, completely confused as to why you seem so upset. 

“I told you?” You demand, voice creeping up. “When did I tell you?” 

“Our first date.” He shakes his head and holds up his hands. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks, obviously confused over your reaction to this conversation.

“I didn’t tell you on our first date.” You argue. “I would never just come out and say ‘oh by the way, I’m bisexual’.” You know that you’re getting emotional, but you can’t help yourself. You’ve been torturing yourself for a long time about this. 

“Woah, babe.” Marcus raises his hands and speaks soothingly. “I’m not understanding. On our first date, you told me about breaking up with ‘Sam’.”

“Sam is a boy’s name.” 

“You called her Samantha at one point during the story.” He tells you.

Your mouth drops open because Sam was Samatha and you hadn’t even noticed the little slip of the tongue. But he apparently had. “Oh.”

He doesn’t try to make you feel dumb, instead he just waits for you to speak again. 

“Why do you go to pride?” You ask quietly, unable to meet his eyes. 

Marcus gently cups your chin, tilting your head so you are looking at him again. Smiling softly at you, no judgment in his eyes. “Because I’ve had a lot of friends who are in the community and it’s important for me to support them.” He explains. “Just like it’s important for me to support my girlfriend.”

“Simple as that?” You ask, surprised that he doesn’t have questions, hasn’t questioned you about this before now or voiced doubts about your sexuality or faithfulness. Although maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. Marcus is a very thoughtful, rational man. Suddenly you don’t feel anxious at all, a little sheepish for your internal crisis, but the anxiety has melted away into utter affection for the man in front of you. 

“Simple as that.” Marcus promises, leaning in to kiss you softly. 

[invisiblerambler]

In a twist no one asked for, I want to talk about Sydney and Carm and the star.

The fundamental problem with the star is that Sydney has put the idea in Carm's mind (based on his own shit) that a star is basically the only way he can prove himself to her, prove this was worth her time whatever.

Duh he thinks they're bullshit she doesn't ergo they are suddenly not bullshit, this is not news to anyone just a recap.

But it's about what the star represents. The star is the ultimate thing he can win, achieve whatever for her.

Carm has lived in a world his entire life where nothing he could do was ever enough, for Donna to love him, for Mikey to let him work at the restaurant and not push him away, for him to stay alive etc. Now, with the star and getting that star, this has for Carm set out a very specific and well trod path for him to be enough for Sydney. Never mind that he doesn't have to do any of it she just wants to cook good food with him, but let's be real Carm needs a lot more therapy before he'll accept that and frankly so does Syd.

MOVING ON

Before Carm was in his full trauma relapse phase in the fridge, because lets be real that started the second Sugar called him in New York, he was open to the idea that there was another path to getting a star, one set out by people like Chef Terry.

But then he dared to allow himself to have amusement and enjoyment, going so horrifically far as to remember why he loved cooking in the first place, and all of his worst fears were proven correct.

For two seasons, he tried to fight Chef's worst comments about him and in the course of one night they were all (to him proven correct). It feels important to note here too, and I've never seen anyone talk about this, Syd is the only one who doesn't talk to him through the freezer, other than Nat but she's not in a mood to talk him down that night so it's irrelevant.

Carmy is left alone with his own worst enemy for hours and the only person who knows how to counter-program that doesn't talk to him at all while he's in the worst of that.

Yes she stays and talks to him after, but she needed to hear him say the stuff about amusement and enjoyment.

Because she has a hunch about where all this is coming from, but his explicit refusal to talk about anything directly means she has to guess. He's hard to keep up with.

Their shorthand has become their downfall. The other hoping that their connection can mean that they don't have to communicate directly. There's no can I ask you this you can tell me to fuck off this season, they're not even stating the question.

He thinks she wants the star at all costs because that is his only value to her, she can't see that he is killing himself because SHE wants the star. The telepathy is deeply broken right now.

[thelonelyempath]

M!Crush x F!Reader: Better Late Than Never PART 1

THEME: Fluff, Some Angst (Enemies To Lovers)

WARNING(s): None yet (Part 2 is NSFW)

**This was heavily inspired by a Skins episode. It's Naomi's episode from season 3. I did make a few key changes to avoid the "plaigarism" allegations. It was also heavily inspired by IRL beef I have with someone at my college who I may or may not have had a crush on at one point. Unfortunately, that beef will not end in this manner because the world don't work like that.**

It was cold and miserable. Why were you even forced to go on this stupid retreat with C/N anyways? He told you his friends set it up so the two of you could "stop hating each other". Yeah, like that would ever work. If anything, you expected that time spent alone with him would make the two of you hate each other more.

"You okay?" he asked you, the glow of the fire illuminating his face.

"That's the first time you've asked me something." you quipped back.

"Today?"

"Ever."

"Well...answer it then. Are you okay?"

"No. This is miserable. The weather's shit and the company's even worse. Why are we even here? Why were we forced to go on this stupid camping trip with each other?"

"You know you could have said no. Nobody forced you to be here."

He was right. You could have said no. But, admittedly, a camping trip (even with someone you don't like) was better than sitting at home and being bored all weekend.

"Whether or not I said no is irrelevant." you said. "What was the point of this trip? Was it so your friends could make bets on if we're gonna hook up?"

"I'll be honest," he answered. "I don't know either. They said it was to get us to stop hating each other, but it's really none of their business. And now we're both just sitting here, bored and unhappy. The worst part is they're making us share a tent."

"Yep."

The fire was warm. It felt nice. You held out your hands against it to warm them. Unfortunately, the skies were looking a bit ominous. You were expecting rain at any second.

"You know I never hated you, right?" C/N said out of nowhere.

"Hmm?" you raised an eyebrow.

"It's true, Y/N. I never hated you. I guess I was always such an ass to you because I knew you didn't like me. It made me feel powerful. God, I'm such a dumbass."

Damn. That hit hard. Truth be told, you never hated him either. Maybe his friends were right. Maybe this rivalry was stupid and pointless.

"I never hated you either." you confessed. "I caught you running your mouth about me to your buddies and it hurt me. I was angry and upset. And I think that may have colored my thoughts about you."

"That's totally valid." he said. "And listen, I never should have said those things about you. It's fair that you thought I was a dick. I know I hurt you. Like I said, I'm a dumbass. I'm sorry."

"I guess I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"The way I reacted. I held a grudge and I really shouldn't have--"

You were cut off by his lips pressing against yours. It was totally out of left field. Was it because you were talking too much and this was his way of getting you to shut up because he couldn't stand the sound of your voice anymore? You didn't want to like it, but you did. You surrendered to the kiss, which grew deeper when you gave in.

"I've been wanting to do that for a really long time." he said breathlessly after pulling away.

"You..." you didn't understand. "you kissed me. You just kissed the person who caught you talking shit about them a few months ago."

"I sure did. And I enjoyed every second of it. The reason I was talking shit about you in the first place was because I have secretly always had a crush on you. I was just scared of it and thought I had to pretend I didn't like you so it wouldn't be obvious. But that was really stupid and immature of me. I should've just told you so all this petty drama could have been avoided. But yeah...I've been crushing on you."

You felt a blush forming on your cheeks. C/N noticed this and smiled. Did you maybe secretly like him too? Where were all these feelings coming from?

"If you want the truth," you said. "I think the reason I was so hurt and angry was because I sort of liked you too. Maybe your friends were right. Maybe we didn't need to be fighting with each other."

It all finally made sense. You were both just too stubborn to admit you had feelings for each other. But you supposed it was better late than never. Though the fire was still blazing, a cool breeze washed over you. You ran cold anyways, so this did not help. You hugged yourself for warmth. C/N saw this and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close and kissing the crown of your head. Alas, you were finally in his arms. You didn't realize how badly you wanted that until now. With your head pressed against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. It sounded so beautiful. Maybe you were starting to drift off to sleep. But just as you began to drift away, the moment was ruined. There was the rain, putting out the nice, cozy, warm fire.

PART 2