#and imparted these messages on us

[kierancaz]

Nothing like watching Pride and Prejudice and Little Women back to back to make me yearn for the bond that the oldest and second oldest sister have.

[the-owl-tree]

not a fan of psychoanalyzing people over the internet but considering all of brambleclaw's abusive behavior was written by accident and that one blogclan post where kate goes "well i don't know what happened there but let's accept that he veered off the right path for a moment alright? he's a good guy! he and squilf would've bullied me in highschool though". really makes you wonder what's going on inside the erins' brains while writing 😭

(and on a meta note: said blogclan post makes me feel we're never gonna solve the "wc fandom treating characters as independent people and not narrative tools" problem when erin hunter ALSO does that. The Horrors)

RIGHT!! Like, I can assume it's an amalgamation of things: the shitty gender existentialist approach a lot of xenofiction takes + some weird beliefs the authors and editors intentionally/unintentionally carry + them playing telephone with books while also pumping them out super fast + no quality control and etc. etc. etc.

that post in particular is like a brother to me. makes it so much funnier when you know kate doesn't like bramblestar.

[cerastes]

Habe you ever had a "did we even play the same game?" moment with someone?

My favorite game ever used to be Metal Gear Solid 4, it’s still up there in my top favorites, and this time at a party I met a guy that said he didn’t like MGS4 because he felt like it ruined Snake as a character and that it misrepresented him. I asked if he could elaborate and his response was that they took this Rambo dude, this super manly war hero and emasculated him into a weak old man.

I need you to understand that Solid Snake was without exaggeration fundamental in my growth as a person: I am from a latino country, grew up in what’s widely considered the wrong side of the tracks in the middle of nowhere, being macho, manly, tough was incredibly important to me, because that’s how it was in there, and Snake (plus “The Knight In Rusty Armor” by Robert Fisher) basically made me question all of what I’d grown up thinking up until then, because Snake isn’t a badass because grrr manly beef jerky I kill and swear, he is this incredibly solemn guy who hates what he can do, but is the only one that can do it, and if he doesn’t do it, then nuclear war happens, or worse. There’s a whole angle of expectation as a narrative arc in regards to Snake: Meryl expected a glorious, boisterous war hero, Otacon expected a grizzled, badass action hero, Liquid expected Himself But Better In Every Way, Ocelot expected a tool and nothing else, Naomi expected a callous and cold killer… And they were all wrong, he is, ultimately, an exhausted man that cannot stop no matter how much he wants to stop, because if he does, the world might likely go up in literal flames.

So to hear this self-proclaimed superfan of Snake say this just made me skip anger and go all the way to pity. In-universe, those in the know of Snake worship him as an actual God of War, and it’s a common thing that gets addressed in-universe: The whole point of MGS2 is that Raiden could never have won if he tried to be Snake, because you don’t want to be Snake. Snake hates being Snake. Snake isn’t manly because he beat a tank on foot one on one, Snake is admirable because he does the right thing, even if he’s breaking down molecule by molecule as he goes and he wants nothing more than to fuck off and raise dogs in the arctic, but keeps on going anyways because he can do something about it. The most important message he imparts on Raiden and Meryl is Don’t Be Me; Create A World Where Snake Doesn’t Need To Exist.

I felt pity because if you feel like MGS4 misrepresented Snake, then you really and explicitly are exactly the kind of fodder PMC nobody that feeds the proxy wars in MGS4. I think only by skipping every cutscene you can come out thinking that way. The only thing super about him was ficial.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Platonic Father and Mother Faerie x Human! Reader

Seraphina, was surprised when her husband, Sylvanas brought, you, a human child to their home in the faerie realm.

But was delighted when she got to know that he did this for her, because she was infertile.

Just ignoring the whole fact that her husband stole you from a human couple.

Your faerie parents, being creatures of magic, would enchant your surroundings with a touch of their otherworldly essence, creating a home filled with ethereal beauty and a sense of perpetual wonder.

They'd teach you the secrets of their enchanted realm, sharing ancient tales of mystical creatures, hidden realms, and the delicate balance between magic and the mortal world.

Despite their ethereal nature, your faerie parents would express love in unique ways – perhaps through the shimmering glow of their presence or the gentle touch of their wings as they embrace you.

As a part of the faerie realm, celebrations would be extravagant and filled with enchanting rituals, like dancing under the moonlit sky or sharing laughter that echoes through the enchanted woods.

Your faerie parents might gift you with magical items, each imbued with a specific power or purpose, serving as both a connection to their world and a means to protect you in the human realm.

While they understand the nature of human life, your faerie parents would instill in you a deep appreciation for the beauty of fleeting moments, emphasizing the importance of cherishing every experience.

Communication might involve a blend of spoken words and telepathic messages, creating a unique form of connection that transcends the limitations of mortal language.

Your faerie parents would guide you in developing a strong connection with nature, teaching you to communicate with plants and animals, fostering a harmonious relationship with the natural world.

They would be protective, using their magical abilities to shield you from harm while imparting wisdom to navigate the complexities of both the mortal and faerie realms.

The bond you share with your faerie parents would be enduring, transcending the boundaries between worlds.

And as you grow, they'd stand by you as guardians and mentors, always ready to offer guidance from the enchanting depths of their timeless existence.

[communistkenobi]

I’m watching FD Signifier’s new video about edgelord white guy movies. He spends a decent amount of time talking about how creators have responded to their edgelord fanbases, using The Joker and The Boys as two examples, where these creators feel uncomfortable with how their art has been received and taken up by “angry white men,” and that in response to this, they have followed up these artistic products with sequels or new seasons of television that are incredibly blunt and obvious about how you shouldn’t think of Homelander as a based chad or Arthur Fleck as a motivational figure in your life. And like he ends the video saying this is insufficient because these audiences won’t care about the messages in these follow-ups (largely bc these are downstream of larger social issues), but his framing of it in terms of “the death of media literacy” is still really frustrating and annoying because it’s buying into the idea that the main problem with people “not getting” art is literacy/education. And its not just his video, this framing is a popular memetic phrase across social media, and he does a better job than most people in talking about it

But like I just straight up do not accept that the audience of these edgelord movies “didn’t get” that they are portraying bad people, that audiences of mass media are “taking the wrong message” of “very obvious” pieces of art. Not because I think they do secretly get what these films are ‘actually saying,’ I don’t care about what’s in their hearts, but because this concern with people ‘not getting it’ feels wildly off-topic. I think it has been demonstrated over and over again that mass media is not an educational tool where people go to “learn lessons” or “take away a particular message.” I think the very fact that we have a consumptive marketised relationship to these artistic products structures and produces a specific set of responses, which is, above all else, “getting my money’s worth.” Who gives a shit what the movie is ‘really’ trying to say! That’s unimportant when faced with the question of did I get what I paid for? And I don’t mean this in an annoying lib “consumerism is making us all stupider” way I mean the economic structure of artistic production is the primary determinant of how commodities on a market are received. The idea that, under these conditions, we can purchase a piece of art that will “teach us” something about the world is laughable, that art-by-itself contains the authority to impart political knowledge. The idea that we can purchase our way into good values, good politics, that we can buy a movie ticket and see the error of our ways is buying into this same exact consumptive framing.

“The death of media literacy” implies a point in recent history where this economic relationship to art was unimportant, that we used to be able to participate in mass standardised artistic production and be unaffected by this arrangement. I think about Adorno & Horkheimer’s argument in The Culture Industry, that the profit motive is itself an object of consumption under capitalism, that advertisements are themselves products & as a result, all mass standardised artistic products are advertisements for their own capitalist production processes and logics. 

I think when people “don’t get” that Starship Troopers is depicting a fascist society, when people “don’t get” that Travis Bickle is a bad, un-admirable person, they aren’t stricken by a sudden deficit of education or literacy, they are responding to the conditions under which these things get made. Being able to get art’s “true message,” no matter how supposedly clear or compellingly-articulated, is to argue that ‘message’ and ‘meaning’ can be made independent of the conditions under which those things are created and presented to people. The industrial capitalist machinery outputting standardised artistic products is itself an authority telling you how to interpret its own products, much the same way a cathedral is presented as evidence of god. There is a material & physical authority in their presence and social arrangement that are themselves arguments. Adorno talks about this with the radio - that this vast industrial infrastructure of radio towers, broadcast stations, systems of wires and cables, and the production of standardised radio receivers (available for purchase, of course) is utterly incomprehensible to most people and amounts to hearing the voice of god when you turn on the radio. The arrangement of artistic production & presentation is itself the structure through which you experience art, and that structure is an authority you can neither comprehend nor alter. And again as A&H say in The Culture Industry, the techniques, narratives, and genres of the culture industry become standardised themselves, cookie-cutters on a production line, and therefore dictate meaning above and beyond any particular semantic meaning injected into an individual film or story. “Romcoms” are a cultural authority above and beyond the sum total of every romcom film ever made, and it is these genres and techniques that transmit the justification for their own continued reproduction. Under this arrangement, the meaning of this film or that television show are rendered marginal - not unnoticeable or irrelevant, certainly, but secondary to the cookie-cutters they were produced from 

Now does this lead to a widespread ignorant, impoverished, reactionary view of art? Of course, but that is not because the guy who likes wearing V for Vendetta masks is illiterate. To place the blame on individual education, discipline, or literacy is to take Hollywood for granted as a natural eternal entity, to take it as just another church. It’s a goofy fucking argument!��

[sapphicjackal]

Bingyuan Soulmate au 3

Part 1 Part 2

Shen Yuan was overjoyed now that he had made contact with his Soulmate at last. Binghe was absolutely precious. The burst of his emotions written into his words were all so genuine and adoring. Once Binghe knew that they were soulmates, he all but bloomed into an adorable white lotus. The way he writes in a more formal and archaic dialect is charming, especially since it’s paired with the calligraphy brush he consistently uses. Shen Yuan finds his quirks overwhelmingly cute.

They had only known each other for two days, but Shen Yuan was working out something of a pattern for Binghe’s messages. He would wake up well before Shen Yuan, leaving a message on his wrist like Shen Yuan has done for years. Then Binghe will be busy for the rest of the day until late at night.

Maybe he works on a farm? 

Shen Yuan tried to picture an adorable (because there’s no way that Binghe isn’t the cutest thing in existence) child waking up with the sun to work on a farm. Shen Yuan doesn’t really know what work is done on a farm. It would probably be a lot of manual labor. Binghe’s too young to be working all day!

What if he’s one of those kids stuck in a sweatshop forced to do labor?

The thought of it breaks Shen Yuan’s heart, and fills him with protective fury.

His soulmate is a lot younger than him, so Shen Yuan has been trying to keep the conversation more shallow to protect his soulmate’s privacy and safety. However, he’s getting the feeling that Binghe isn’t in a great situation. 

Not knowing about soulmates indicates a level of isolation and deliberate ignorance. Being illiterate at 10 implies a level of disenfranchisement. The long hours that Binghe keeps where he’s too occupied to talk. Those emotions of fragile hope and loneliness that undercurrent some of his words.

Something is wrong, and Shen Yuan should address it sooner rather than later.

“Bing-er could you tell me where you live?” Shen Yuan writes during the afternoon, knowing Binghe will likely respond later that night. He keeps imparts emotions of curiosity, concern, and care, hoping Binghe will feel safe enough to tell him, even if they hadn’t known each other long.

He had to wait a few hours but finally he felt the tingle of a brush dragging across his skin. 

“This Binghe is a disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain’s Qing Jing Peak” Binghe wrote. Shen Yuan stared blankly at the words. He would doubt them, but he can feel the truth in the words. 

Soulmates can tell when the other is lying, because the communication is between two souls that are linked together. Soulmates can lie to each other verbally, but words written on skin can only be true to the soul, if they’re dishonest then your soulmate can tell.

Shen Yuan pulled up his phone and looked up Qing Jing Peak, not expecting anything to come up. He was surprised to get results. However the results were to a web page of a relatively new Web novel called <Proud Immortal Demon Way> which only has 4 published chapters.

Shen Yuan read the summary in disbelief, his eyes skimming over it before reading it over and over again to make sure he got it right. The main character’s name is Luo Binghe, named after the river that his washerwoman adoptive mother found him floating in after being abandoned in a basket on the coldest day of winter. 

Shen Yuan didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t think that Binghe was lying, their bond would tell him. Why would Binghe introduce himself as a character in a web novel that had barely started and had practically no audience. It made no sense.

None of this makes sense.

Shen Yuan can feel the tingle of a brush on his arm, Binghe must be wondering why he was taking so long to reply. Shen Yuan decided to read <Proud Immortal Demon Way> tomorrow during the day while Binghe is busy. He wouldn’t ask any questions that could make Binghe think that he doubted him. Shen Yuan just knows that it would shatter Binghe’s heart.

“Yuan-ge?” Binghe had written, light impatience mixed with a hint of nervousness and hopeful anticipation.

Shen Yuan decides to just go along with whatever Binghe says. No need to contradict him.

“I’m not a part of any sect. How do you find Qing Jing Peak?” Shen Yuan asked.

This time it was Binghe who took a long time to respond.

“This one likes Qing Jing Peak. Qing Jing Peak does not like this Binghe.” Binghe says, his words carry with them the faintest amount of bitterness, with a stronger mixture of sorrow, pain, and loneliness. The words feel like a whispered confession, like a truth too terrible to speak aloud. It feels vulnerable and painful raw in its honesty.

Shen Yuan’s heart hurts with the words. He has gotten so used to Binghe’s overwhelming vibrance, it makes it all the more clear how achingly diminished he feels in those words. All the brewing heartache that’s being exposed.

Shen Yuan glances at the summary page for a web novel, seeing the tags that promise a revenge story and power fantasy. It’s exactly the type of web novel that Shen Yuan likes to read. He pushes away all of his confusion and doubts to focus on what’s important, Binghe.

“I don’t know how anyone could not like Luo Binghe.” Shen Yuan writes, soaking the words with protective anger and overflowing adoration. Binghe is a good boy. Binghe deserves the world. Shen Yuan has only had him for 3 days but if anything happened to Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan would kill everybody in the world and then himself. 

“Yuan-ge!” Binghe writes, joy tinged lightly with heartache.

Shen Yuan changed the subject to instead ask about what Binghe was learning. Binghe told him that Qing Jing Peak was a Peak of scholars and that he was meant to learn the 4 Arts. However he wasn’t allowed into the classes with the other disciples and he was told to do chores instead of cultivating. 

It filled Shen Yuan with indignation. 

“I don’t know if my education holds up to Qing Jing Peak standards, but I have been learning the Four Arts. I’ll teach you whatever I can.” Shen Yuan wrote. He began trying to think of the best ways to teach the subjects with limited space and an inability to actually demonstrate in person. It would be difficult, but written instruction could hopefully help Binghe in some way.

“Thank you Yuan-ge!” Binghe wrote enthusiastically, filled with anticipation and hope. His brush strokes were messier than usual with his giddiness. 

Shen Yuan smiled at his arm. He had been thinking about becoming a teacher after he found tutoring his meimei to be enjoyable. Maybe this could be like his test? He’ll take this seriously, only the best for his Binghe. 

That means that Shen Yuan will have to do deep research into the four arts to expand his knowledge, and also work on putting together lesson plans. He should also look into teaching methods. (Not to mention the fact that his soulmate might just be the protagonist of a xianxia novel, a fact he was studiously putting out of mind and out of sight, meaning he should also research cultivation type settings.)

The bottom line is that his soulmate needs help, and after 15 years of waiting, Shen Yuan is prepared to do anything for his soulmate.

Part 4

[voraciouskingdom]

It’s been said that you cannot give away what you do not have. One of the most spiritually important insights or secrets in life is that you already have, and always have had, what you need to give away. If you impart the message that ‘I am not worthy’ the universe will send it straight back in many shapes, forms and circumstances. When we say ‘give me’ we are imparting this message. We are saying we think we need to get something to complete ourselves or prove our worth.

Most of us are taught to live a life of "gimmie gimmie gimmie" – always striving, desiring, wanting, struggling. We do so only because we think that when we get what we want we will be fulfilled and esteemed by others. But it’s an illusion. We are all already complete and worthy but we cannot know it and experience it, until we give it away.

Only giving allows us to know what we are and what we have within. Ask the question – how can I serve? The intention to serve will point you towards what you need to give. If the intention is real it also generates the will. The most successful people in life are not go getters, but go givers.

🔥❤️‍🔥

[whenlifeisscaryanddepressing]

A message to my American brothers and sisters whose candidate lost this election:

Firstly, I am neither American nor did I vote for your election so do take what I say with a grain of salt.

I’m writing to you guys because I know how you feel. I’ve been there.

During the 2020 Presidential election of the Philippines, I too supported a movement. Not a candidate—a movement. A female presidential candidate who raised hope, became a champion for marginalized communities whose only goal was to create opportunities to shift my country away from the vitriol that came from a previous president who strong armed my country into a bloody war on drugs that saw the death of thousands of poor people.

And like you, I lost.

With the spread of misinformation and lies, my country elected the son of a dictator who proved himself to be the ineffective, incompetent and dishonest leader we all secretly hoped he wouldn’t be.

Our hopes dimmed.

Tears were shed.

Resentment flowered in us like a storm.

It was difficult to swallow the results of an election that had so much at stake. You see, like your President-elect, our current President spent millions of pesos contesting a fair election that saw him losing out to the vice presidential position during the previous election.

Through bullying and intimidation, he sought to undermine a fair election that took him out of power.

And like your current President-elect, he still managed to win at the end.

It would have been easier to accept the results had it not been for the mocking of 31 million Filipinos who voted our current president into office.

We all heard them tell us, “You’re crying over an election? You need better things to worry about.”

I want you to know that it’s okay to cry.

Your frustrations and disappointment are valid.

It is rare to find a candidate you’re able to place so much hope in and to have that hope dashed away is a bitter pill that is difficult to swallow.

I know, you’re probably tired of hearing it.

“Turn the other cheek.”

“Accept it and move on.”

“It is what it is.”

“There’s nothing more to do.”

It’s okay. I’m tired of it too.

I know you’re probably scared and angry and so, so, so tired. Two years after our election and I am still all of these things.

I still think about the what if, the what could have beens. I think a lot about how better off we would have been if the right person won.

I want you to know that it’s okay. It’s okay to mourn those things.

You did your part. You voted and you campaigned and you fought hard. Sometimes, we just lose.

If there’s any advice I can impart, it’s that I hope you take your frustration, your sadness, you exhaustion, your anger, and turn it into righteous fury.

Take that fury and do something with it.

Because the movement cannot stop here. The moment we stop fighting, they win.

To lose hope means victory for the other side.

I get it. It’s easier to get mad at the people who voted for him. It’s even easier to spew the same vitriolic hate towards them when they start complaining about how things don’t change and how your country is worse off but theirs is the vote that put a wannabe-dictator in power.

Don’t do it.

Because that divide is precisely why they keep winning. It’s the same divide they sowed into my country and we are still struggling to fight that division everyday.

Losing this election is a step backwards but losing hope would be another step back.

Even to this day, my presidential candidate continues to inspire hope for change in my country.

I know yours will too.

It’s not the end.

I need you to remember to breathe.

Breathe in the hope you desperately fought for;

breathe through the hurt of the loss;

and breathe out the fear they so badly want you to feel.

The road is long and it’s scary.

But there’s about 50 or so million other people on that road with you. You might not be the majority but even David was small when he killed Goliath.

Cause if you voted for Kamala Harris, you already know you have the courage and righteous fury to fight for change and you cannot give up now that you’re so close.

You lost the battle but it’s not the end of the war.

So tonight, grieve. Cry. Hug your friends and family who are right there with you. Be sad and mourn the loss of what could have been.

Because tomorrow, when you wake, you will continue fighting for change.

Because no one else will.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Azul Ashengrotto - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: Priceless artwork like the halls as far as the eye can see... This is a fantastic opportunity to polish up my artistic sense of appreciation.

Summon Line: Basking in the fine arts is a fine way to forge your imagination. We should learn well from this and enjoy this very worthwhile time together.

Groooovy!!: Love is wonderful. There is no end to the troubles that come from it, so it's quite a favorable emotion for those of us who impart counsel.

Home: How splendid this 100th Anniversary is.

Home Idle 1: Floyd's freewheeling behavior doesn't change even at a museum. He may be a moray eel, but he is nothing like either of the two who served the Sea Witch.

Home Idle 2: I saw Vil-san looking at a painting intently, and when I asked what he was doing, he said he was studying the beautiful posture. He truly is a professional.

Home Idle 3: It is an exhilarating feeling when a piece of work you had your eye on increases in value. It confirms my intuition was on the money, as it were.

Home Idle - Login: If any painting catches your interest, please don't hesitate to ask me about it. I do take art as one of my courses. I may be able to briefly explain it to you.

Home Idle - Groovy: Jamil-san seems to have an expert eye for art. I'll make sure to stay friendly with him.

Home Tap 1: I hear the Lord of the Underworld was a shrewd dealbroker. Not only would I love to hear his stories, I would also love to get my hands on documentation with any details!

Home Tap 2: Many entrepreneurs hold some artistic hobby of some kind. Knowledge of art, literature and music can be very useful when it comes to business discussions.

Home Tap 3: If Ortho-san were to use his sensors, I'm sure it would be quick work to identify any forgeries... If given the opportunity, I should inquire him about that.

Home Tap 4: I wonder just how many of the merfolk the Sea Witch helped. She was one of the greats, I would not be surprised if the count was in the hundreds... No, the thousands.

Home Tap 5: This shell is based on the one worn as a necklace by the Sea Witch. Isn't it just grand?

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh my, I see how your eye shines so... If you've taken a liking to that painting, I shall order a reproduction for you. At a discounted price, of course.

Duo: [AZUL]: This is quite the dire predicament, Jamil-san. [JAMIL]: Doesn't seem to me like you're worried one bit, Azul.

Birthday Login Message: Oh, have you come to request something of me? It would be my pleasure! Please, tell me what it is you'd like. No matter how difficult the task, once it is entrusted to me... Eh? You'd like to prepare a birthday card for me? ...Heh, I think you'll find that person a difficult one to please. But very well, may I ask what message you'd like on the card?

Requested by @pianostarinwonderland.

[abattre]

It's actually so disappointing that Naruto's narrative took the route that it did. Kishimoto created an incredibly interesting world and premise, and ruined it by having everything amount to a shallow message of forgiveness that undermines almost every meaningful element in the story. And it's like,, I want to appreciate the world outside of the plot, but the moral framing of the story makes it virtually impossible because of how disingenuous it is. It completely undermines the audience's understanding of the tragedy and horror of the world so that Naruto becoming Hokage and being the most powerful person in the world by the end doesn't come across as distasteful as it actually is.

Like it's made abundantly clear throughout the story that the village system, and Shinobi society as a whole, is incredibly flawed. Kishimoto goes out of his way to show us that Konoha's council is made up of objectively horrible people. We see first hand how the council's short-sighted ideas of what 'protecting the village' means results in devastating tragedy for people both in Konoha and outside of it. It's clear in how Danzo and the rest of the council act that their atrocious behaviour is them just blatantly abusing their power to maintain their authority. The council has no remorse in anything they do; human experimentation, genocide, slavery, and blatant exploitation is all fair game to them if it preserves their status quo. And instead of maybe, like, addressing Konoha's skewed morality in a sensible way and setting the village up for reform, the narrative just tries forcing the audience to perceive Konoha's genuinely heinous actions as necessities. Which, you know, will work when you're like 8, but once you've grown up and developed some reading comprehension and critical thinking,,, it just feels annoyingly manipulative.

At its core, Naruto is a story that attempts to deconstruct morality. Like this is abundantly clear in how Kishimoto is constantly paralleling the dichotomy of good and evil literally every chance he gets. In the end though, this dichotomy just doesn't work in the context of the Naruto story because the narrative framing of the village being the good guys is just hysterically ridiculous. Konoha is an awful place, that does awful things, and is run by awful people that refuse to change anything because it benefits them for the village to remain awful forever. To anyone with a developed sense of media literacy the village cannot in any way be framed as morally good, so when the story resolves itself with Naruto becoming next in line to govern Konoha under the same unchanging authoritarian regime, with the same council supporting him because of his sheer physical prowess and complete dedication to their twisted ideology,,, it's honestly just an incredibly underwhelming conclusion to a story that made itself out to be more profound than it actually is.

If I had to guess, I imagine Kishimoto just didn't think through how negatively the world he created would reflect on the plot. Ultimately though, you can't write a moral story that's so deeply entrenched in real world social inequity and decide halfway through that because you don't know how to fix these things your story's going to have to be about how they're actually okay to be doing and perpetuating,,, like that is awful and also a terrible lesson to impart on an audience of children. With how serious the issues are in Shinobi society, trying to resolve things with the power of friendship was always going to fall flat. These broad scale injustices can't be brushed aside in that way without undermining their severity and diminishing the understandable impact they had on the characters that experienced such extreme oppression. That's essentially the trap that Naruto's conclusion falls into though, and so the story just ends up feeling incomplete and unfulfilling because none of the issues brought up are actually addressed or discussed with the gravity they deserve.

[milquetoast27]

Subtext in The Creeping Man

I find that this story of Arthur Conan Doyle's Holmes canon features some of the most complex subtext we've had aside from A Study in Scarlet. But rather than being complex early-on because of our lack of knowledge of the characters, it is rather complicated by the fact that we both know too much and too little of their relationship. This story, with astonishing subtlety, conveys the cooperative relationship between Doyle's two characters — the nuance in their limits and strains, but also the joys that they work to reach, together. It emblemises the beauty of the Canon, where it all ties back to the joy and complexity of human understanding and belonging.

This story opens in "those latter days" (1903, near to Holmes's retirement) where Watson describes their relations as "peculiar". The word certainly feels like a euphemism from the ever-polite Dr. Watson, when it is soon made clear that their relations were far from amenable. Watson has become one of Holmes's "concentrated habits", and apparently is as good as a piece of funiture, as all of Holmes's remarks would have been as "appropriately addressed to his bedstead." It's given through snapped sentences; "I was a whetstone for his mind. I stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence." This "irritation" and discordance between them is extremely concentrated in the early pages of this story, but drags through it, as well. Take, for example, the "laconic" (or perhaps iconic?) message:

"COME AT ONCE IF CONVENIENT — IF INCONVENIENT COME ALL THE SAME. S.H."

Watson gives us the original of Holmes's telegram to demonstrate to his readers just how "long-suffering" he is. A true exhaustion is apparent in how he simply shows the telegram, rather than politely referring to it. Compare this with the unendingly civil telegram sent to Watson in The Boscombe Valley Mystery, and you can see the great shift that has taken place in their alliance.

"HAVE YOU A COUPLE OF DAYS TO SPARE? HAVE JUST BEEN WIRED FOR FROM THE WEST OF ENGLAND IN CONNECTION WITH BOSCOMBE VALLEY TRAGEDY. SHALL BE GLAD IF YOU WILL COME WITH ME. AIR AND SCENERY PERFECT. LEAVE PADDINGTON BY THE 11.15."

While long-term and intimate relationships will remove need for over-courtesey, there are two very different reasons for why Doyle has shown both of these telegrams at a point in time. This accumulation of Holmes's ungrateful behaviour not only imparts Watson's utter despondancy, but also, importantly, Holmes’s — and this is something that Watson's ever-perceptive and intelligent heart does not fail to miss. It is important to note that this story nears Holmes's retirement, where he acknowledges that he has been "sluggish in mind". There is no doubt, then, that the great detective is out of his prime. Hence the temperementalness, taking his Watson for granted, and a heavier reliance on those "narrow and concentrated habits."

Despite the turbulent roads of their life, we see Watson's undying devotion co-exist with it. Past all the irritation, Watson closes, "Such was my humble role in our alliance." It is more than clear that he consciously makes the decision to remain at Holmes's side, to be his ally. Such has always been Watson's role in their alliance. His "humble" service extends to his practice as doctor and soldier. His pride is in his duty to others, and to Holmes as his assistant.

There is something that shines through Holmes's unsocial behaviour when we look closely at the text.

I sank back in my chair in some disappointment. Was it for so trivial a question as this that I had been summoned from my work? Holmes glanced across at me. "The same old Watson!" said he. "You never learn that the gravest issues may depend upon the smallest things."

We know from the Canon (opening of DANC and RESI) that Watson's emotions are like an open book to Holmes. This 'sinking in some disappointment' is not missed by Holmes's 'glance'. "The same old Watson!" he says, and I feel it important to note that he compliments one of Watson's most distinguishing features; his stability and fixture — the "one fixed point in a changing age." Yet, we may miss these details, because Holmes, ever in his own insecurity, must back-hand every praise with a teasing chide. We could say that an attempt was made to cheer Watson up, though not very successful.

Developments continue, as Holmes tryingly says "I had hoped to have a longer chat with you", then parades him with compliments before their client, "Dr. Watson is the very soul of discretion". But mixed indications continue to come as he flips back to patronising language; "You will appreciate it, Watson, when"—. Doyle further cements Holmes's particular unbecoming behaviour on this day as he further also annoys their client, who speaks in a "tone of reproach" when Holmes does not listen, and is "clearly annoyed" at irrelevant interruptions — to which, Holmes only smiles in, what I believe, is pure self-importance.

Here we find a shift — a greater effort on Holmes's part, a second round of appreciation for Watson's stability, even when his opinion is faulty. "Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground". He's then included in his bubble; "We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?", and even a sordid attempt at bringing Watson with him on the bait of the Chequers in 'Camford' where "the port used to be above mediocrity and the linen was above reproach." (Which he follows up on!)

And, despite these attempts, their connection still does not rekindle. Watson is clearly irritated still with the inconsiderate easiness with which Holmes was able to leave London, leaving only difficulty on Watson's end to join him. It's an indicator from Doyle that nothing's remedied, yet.

Here is an interesting passage for study.

"Have you the effrontery necessary to put it through?" "We can but try." "Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior. We can but try — the motto of the firm."

Burstive praise from Holmes at the merest utterance of a phrase — a phrase which has only ever been used one other time in the Canon; the previous story, The Problem of Thor Bridge. This suggests it may be some small motto of Holmes's, though one not often seen in Watson's records — this makes his use of the phrase a very Holmesian approach. This participation, no doubt, is nothing but a delight for Holmes, who is trying to restring their relationship, and continues to overenthusiastically affirm Watson's sturdiness.

Yet it's made clear that superficial praises are not a true apology, as we see signs yet again of Watson's dispassion. As they sit to their meeting with Professor Presbury, Watson writes:

Mr. Holmes smiled amiably.

This sentence may seem unassuming, but be assured it is one of the coldest in the Canon. This usage of "Mr. Holmes" is entirely unique within the Canon. In other times, when Watson has used "Mr. Holmes" or "Mr. Sherlock Holmes", it has been when speaking directly to his readers, since they would be using the honourific. This moment is the only exception, where Watson has intentionally used "Mr." to create distance and convey undesire for intimacy with Holmes (rather than any professional effect). Why has Watson used the line here? Well, Holmes is 'smiling amiably' — in a way that forces a friendly manner, one that attempts to create a good impression with Professor Presbury — which also didn't work out, by the way. Considering all the superficial means up to now employed by Holmes on his companion, Watson no doubt feels cheapened and no more important than Holmes's investigative objects; as if his trust is just as easy to gain as anyone else's, with nothing but an 'amiable smile'.

We are shown time and again that Watson isn't pleased with Holmes's desultory attempts at reconciliation, until finally, a shift happens. One that is not identifiable in the text, and so is reasonable to assume happened unpenned. We find Holmes acknowledging that "Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to", when before this information seemed completely irrelevant to him. Holmes even sent Watson a "short note asking [him] to meet at the train"! The greatest change is when we finally have Watson using "my friend" and "my comrade" for the first time in this story. Now we see Watson taking real excitement in the case, in the "assurance of [his] comrade". Self-teasing also makes its way into their dialogue as Holmes cries "Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been!" The emphasised address seems to suggest an apology for something more. It's as if he cries 'Look how wrong I have been Watson, how imperfect and daft I can be!' It's adorable, really.

All semblances of reproach towards Holmes disappear as they steal together in darkness, come to the dénoument of their adventure, as Holmes philosophises on science and nature, and described admiringly as "the man of action". Our story ends in a light-hearted resolution, as always.

"There is an early train to town, Watson, but I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers before we catch it."

To conclude, this story presents so much so subtly in its pages; a reflection of the small, nuanced and unseen processes between human beings, but those which we must be attentive to in order to find fuller understanding between each other. Yet, there is still much uncertainty in my inferences; which also shows the uncertainty of language and communication. We simply must be clear of ourselves, as we can only assume Holmes and Watson were, off-page, for them to have found that resolution, rather than fleeting smiles and compliments. Arthur Conan Doyle, with this story, further cements the triumph of bonds and connection, perhaps far more than any other of his stories.

[rainerioun]

𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖫𝖣 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖥𝖮𝖢𝖴𝖲 𝖮𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖲 𝖶𝖤𝖤𝖪? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hi! This reading is pretty straightforward and simple, but I tried to spice it up with other elements. Wishing you all an amazing week!

ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : MARCH 31ST, 2024.

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST | KO-FI

PILE ONE

Main Focus. Phoenix : Freedom from Suffering and Past Karma. Reincarnation. Nightingale : Fearless Voice, Speech, Communication, or Song.

This week, prioritize expressing yourself openly and communicating clearly. Release worries from past experiences to embrace new ones. Whether through work, hobbies, casual conversations, or anything else, you can offer valuable contributions for personal growth and the benefit of others.

Additional Focus. Step Away from the Crowd. | It's Not an Emergency. Material and Spiritual Prosperity. | Choose Wisely. Teacher : Share Your Knowledge. Teacher — Light : Ability to communicate knowledge, experience, skill, or wisdom.

I was taken aback when I drew two teacher cards from different decks, but it really emphasizes what I mentioned earlier. Allow yourself to unconsciously or consciously guide others. This might involve sharing experiences openly, teaching a skill, or imparting wisdom. This will end up benefiting you in the long term. If you're in a work setting, this could manifest there. If not, it may reveal itself in another form.

If you're currently pondering over a decision or choice, it might resurface later in the week. [ If this doesn't resonate with you, this could also form suddenly and randomly. ] Take your time; there's no need to rush. Remember, it might not be as significant as it seems initially. Approach it with a clear mind and stability, allowing yourself to make a wise decision without being swayed by others or external factors.

If Wanted, Balance Your Root Chakra.

Affirmations: I am centered and grounded. I am safe and secure. I have all I need. I am where I'm meant to be.

Try Using/Wearing: Smokey Quartz, Red Jasper, Black Obsidian, Red Garnet.

Activities: Go outdoors. Walk barefoot. Dance. Meditate. Journal. Ensure you attend to your basic needs. Engage in grounding exercises, both mentally and physically. Physical activities, such as jogging or exercise. Declutter your space. Listen to music or sing.

PILE TWO

Main Focus. Oyster : Patient, Secret-Keeper, Hiding Inner Treasures. Unicorn : Reconnecting to Higher Wisdom or Divinity.

This week, consider starting a journey of deeper self-discovery, even if it's just taking small steps. Nothing happens overnight. Allow yourself to slow down and reflect, practicing patience with both life and yourself. If you're religious or spiritual, try deepening that connection this week; you might discover the answers you seek or a kickstart in the right direction.

Additional Focus. Don't Sweat the Small Stuff. | Rise and Shine. The Waiting Game. | Authority. Family : All in the Pride. Victim — Light : Prevents you from letting yourself be victimized, or victimizing others.

Taking it slow is crucial this week. Rushing through life isn't the way to go; instead, allow things to unfold naturally for now. Empower yourself to let this process happen without stressing over easily fixable or insignificant matters.

For some of you dealing with family or close ones, let things simmer for a bit before diving back in. If not, perhaps reach out and say hello!

If Wanted, Balance Your Third-Eye Chakra.

Affirmations: I trust my intuition. I accept things how they are. I am insightful. I see and think clearly. All I need is within me. I trust in my decisions.

Try Using/Wearing: Sodalite, Lapis Lazuli, Sapphire, Blue Aventurine, Amethyst.

Activities: Visualization. Do puzzles or other mentally stimulating tasks. Do what you simply feel called to do. Pay extra attention to your dreams, and write them down. Get creative. Limit screen time.

PILE THREE

Main Focus. Octopus : Reaching, Yearning, Lacking Boundaries and Direction. Hawk : Watchful, All-Seeing, Messenger of Divinity. Golden Egg : Message at the Center of the Heart, The Unstruck Sound.

Taking quiet time for yourself is important. Embrace the peace and comfort of what you already have. There's no need to desperately search or long for something at this moment. It might feel challenging without a clear direction, but if you've been seeking a sign, consider this it. Pushing and rushing will only lead to a shortage of these things. Allow yourself the time and space to form them naturally, whether you're actively involved or not.

This is just a gentle nudge for a few people: if you've been contemplating starting therapy or seeking help, please consider doing so. I'll leave it at that since it's a sensitive topic.

Additional Focus. Reclaim Your Art. | Celebrate You. Light. | Base Chakra. | Financial and Material Changes. Fullness : Give Thanks. | Conundrum : Up In The Air. Rescuer — Light : Provides strength and support to others in crisis. Acts out of love with no expectation of reward.

For those of you who engage in any form of creativity, no matter how small, consider spending some time alone with your craft this week. You might find it brings even more clarity than before. Embracing the unique aspects of yourself is always a beautiful and necessary thing. Remember, you are strong, and any challenges you face will eventually fade away as long as you continue to love and nurture yourself. Trust that things will work out; sometimes, you have to be your own savior for the right people or opportunities to come into your life.

If Wanted, Balance Your Heart Chakra.

—The Root/Base Chakra card appeared, but I sense that focusing on the heart is more necessary at the moment. You can explore the other later on. If you're still interested, you can find more about it in the lower half of the first pile. <3

Affirmations: Wherever I go, love is all around me. I love myself to the fullest. I am worthy of love. Love flows freely. I feel my heart's calling. I honor myself. I live in harmony. I forgive myself and others.

Try Using/Wearing: Rose Quartz, Aventurine, Jade, Pink or Green Tourmaline, Opal.

Activities: Pamper yourself. Give love and help to those in need. Volunteer. Go to a pet shop. Do things you loved as a child.

PILE FOUR

Main Focus. Panther : Annihilation of the Unnecessary, Purging. Camel : Resourceful, Independent, Knows One's Self.

This week, take a more action-oriented approach. Be bold and productive—it suits you. Try relying on yourself as you tackle tasks and goals. Let go of anything that no longer serves you, that includes toxic people.

Additional Focus. Turn Back. | Connect with Your Soul Family.  Heart Chakra. | Rejoice in Celebration. Self-Confidence : Stand Your Ground. | Watcher: Be Your Own Witness.  Fool — Light : Fearlessly revealing emotion. Helping people laugh at absurdity and hypocrisy.

You need to learn to be your own support. Celebrate your confidence and embrace yourself. Remember, it doesn't always have to be rigid and serious—you can express this through humor and laughter. You can be a strong figure while also being open about your emotions. Connect more with the people around you in this positive energy.

If Wanted, Balance Your Heart Chakra.

Affirmations: Wherever I go, love is all around me. I love myself to the fullest. I am worthy of love. Love flows freely. I feel my heart's calling. I honor myself. I live in harmony. I forgive myself and others.

Try Using/Wearing: Rose Quartz, Aventurine, Jade, Pink or Green Tourmaline, Opal.

Activities: Pamper yourself. Give love and help to those in need. Volunteer. Go to a pet shop. Do things you loved as a child.

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 8.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Illness, cancer. Summary: Javi is given some unexpected and unwelcome news from his father - meanwhile you receive the phone call that you have been waiting for for your entire life. Notes: As always, we do our best to infuse some Spanish into the dialogue when our stories call for it, but neither Keri nor I are fluent by any means. If you see an error let us know, but kindness counts!

The day began, as so many do, with a knock on the door. The palace had stirred to life hours ago, bustling staff all going about their business and, breakfast served and cleared away again, appointments kept, and meetings held. Business, as they say, booms this morning at Castel del Ocaso. The only person not yet risen, it seems, is the crowned prince.

And so his day begins with a knock. A gentle one. There is no need to jar the man into reality cruelly. His valet has a tray with his breakfast so that the kitchen could move on with their duties for the day, and an urgent message from the prince's father. Which is, if one was to ask the valet, the only reason for waking the prince at what is already a late hour. When he stirs at the opening of the windows, the valet clears his throat and sets the tray down on the broad bedside table. “There is a message this morning, your Highness.” The valet tells the bleary-eyed prince quietly. “His Majesty would like to see you in his chambers after you are dressed.”

Groaning, Javi looks over at the clock, well aware that the staff knew that he was to sleep in. It’s a rare night that he is up until the early morning hours and today had been blocked out of his schedule as a recovery day. “What is going on?”

“I only know that your father has asked for you.” Sometimes the king’s staff would impart more details or relay why his Majesty needed a particular thing or requested a particular presence, but this was not one of those times. Indicating the tray laden with croissants, marmalade, yoghurt, and fresh fruit alongside a strong cortado, the prince’s valet offers an apologetic smile. “Would you prefer to take breakfast before dressing?”

“No—” Javi sits up and groans, closing his eyes again at the throbbing in his skull. “Yes.”

The man says nothing at first, but hides a private smile as he hands the prince his coffee before going to his closet to choose clothing for the day. “Was your evening enjoyable, sire?” He asks, always preferring to have the temperature - so to speak - of the royal family each day. There had been shouting from the king’s chambers this morning.

“Too much so.” Javi is desperately grateful for the coffee and he takes a sip with a sigh before reaching for his bottle of aspirin from the bedside table. He had anticipated celebrating too hard and wanted to be prepared. “I am getting too old for all night parties.”

“Then we will simply begin celebrations earlier in the day, I expect.” The prince’s birthday is always a series of extravagances, and this year had been no exception.

“Yes.” Hissing, Javi gingerly crawls out of the bed. “I will shower first.”

“Very good, your Highness.” With a nod, the valet lays out clothes for the day and is gone again, leaving the prince to ready himself to see his father.

******

It takes Javi an hour to shower, dress and make his way to his father’s quarters, frowning slightly as he knocks on the door at the raised voices inside.

“¿Quién es esto?” The king’s deep voice grumbles from inside, obviously irritable. When the doors open a moment later to admit the new arrival, the king is fairly growling and ousts the others from the room. The last to leave is the doctor, sparing a last glance at the king before excusing him to say good morning to the prince as he retreats.

“Javier.” Gruff as he can be, the bedraggling king sighs and waves his son inside. “Come in.”

“You wished to see me?” There is a tenuous relationship between the king and his only son but Javi loves the gruffer man, even if he does not always understand him.

“I wish to speak with you.” He glances at the footman standing near the door. “Alone.” As soon as his son steps inside the door is shut securely behind him and the king smothers a deeper sigh. Standing is quite painful this morning, but since lying down and sitting are, too, he does not move yet. “I sent for the doctor last week. About the pain in my stomach.” Which no one, save extremely close family members, knows about. “He came back to me with answers this morning.”

“Sí?” Javi strides closer to his father, a worried frown creasing his brow. It is not good news if his father is asking to speak to him privately. It is rare that at least his cousin Lucas is not in attendance. Fear and dread coils in his own stomach and the breakfast he had threatens to make a reappearance.

There is no other way to do this, for a man of King Miguel’s temperament, than to do as the Americans say and rip the Band-Aid off. “Javier,” he motions for his son to come closer, not wanting to have to raise his voice and be heard by someone passing in the hall of the drafty medieval palace. “It is cancer.” Which was his worst fear. His fear as a ruler and his fear as the father of a son he is not certain is ready to take his place. “It came on quickly, and spread just as fast.” He tries to hide a wince as best he can, pressing a hand over his aching side as though the disease can hear him speak of it. Laying down may not be any less painful than standing, but it does relieve a bit of pressure, so he lies down again gingerly. “They have given me a few months at most.”

“No.” Javi shakes his head and gives a nervous chuckle. His father is king. He is invincible, always seeming so large to Javi, even now. “No, they are wrong. They have to be wrong.” He blinks, fighting the tears that would be ‘unbecoming’ a future ruler.

“It is always possible for doctors to be wrong.” He would be a fool and a liar to claim otherwise, but Miguel shakes his head. “However, the pain I feel is not a lie. And we must act as though they are correct, in case they are.” He sighs again, clearing his throat to hide pain from his face. Despite the characterization of their relationship as adversarial by the European press at points in Javier’s life, Miguel truly does want the best for his son. It is why he has done what he has done. Made the arrangements that he has made. “Thirty-five is a good age for a king, Javier. Old enough to have some sense but young enough to make the people feel the invigoration of youth.”

The age-old argument of not wanting to be king doesn’t even slip out of his mouth like it normally would. He can’t. Not when his father is lying in a bed looking much older than he had just the day before. Javi realizes how much pain the older man has been hiding from the world. “Sí.” Javi nods. “You have been a good king papá, the people will miss your guidance.”

Surprised at the lack of protest from his only child, the king pats the mattress beside him, hoping for this conversation to go smoothly. He knows Javier would not choose this life if he had the option - but there is no option. Second in line to the throne is his odious nephew Lucas and if that remained his only option, he would sooner find a way to pass the throne directly to Lucas’s new wife. Gabriela may not have royal blood but at least she has a decent mind behind that lovely face. “Steps will have to be taken, mijo. I will have to abdicate. You will have your coronation. And you will also need a queen.”

Javi frowns sadly, aware that the one woman he had wanted his for queen was now married to his cousin. “You took away my queen when you allowed Lucas to marry her.” He reminds his father bitterly. The woman who he loved had just married two years prior and Lucas was always taunting him that she will be pregnant soon.

“When I told you that you could not marry Gabriela, it was not to be cruel or obtuse.” If he had ever hoped that his son could forgive him over that refusal, apparently the hope was in vain. “A bride was selected for you long ago, mijo. So that you would not have to bear the burden of choice yourself.” He looks to his son with interest, hoping this will not begin a shouting match. “It was your mamá’s dying wish that I secure your future. And it is mine that you honour the promises we have made.”

Javi swears he chokes on air. Gasping and stuttering for a moment, eyes widening in shock. “An arranged marriage?” He huffs, swearing if it were anyone but his father it would be a joke. “No. No.” He shakes his head. “My future has been set from the day I drew breath but now my choice of a wife is taken from me?”

“Choosing a queen is more complex than choosing a wife.” There is the objection Miguel anticipated, even if he must admit to being disappointed by it. “The monarchy’s survival means more than simply whose figure you like the most in an evening gown.”

“My queen.” Javi stresses. “So it should be my choice.” He shakes his head. “I have done what you asked but I want to love the person I take as my queen.”

“How do you know you will not love the girl who has been chosen?” The pain of an arrangement is not exactly unknown to the king. After all, his own match was arranged and so was his father’s. Every crowned prince in their family has had their wife chosen from eligible candidates on their behalf - it was perhaps only that Javier’s match was chosen when he was a bit younger than most.

“How do you know I will?” Javi imagines a woman steeped in tradition and molded by pomp and ceremony. Someone who is rigid, only caring about the legacy she leaves behind. “Just because you came to love mamá doesn’t mean the woman you have chosen to be queen is right for me. Or were you only thinking of the crown?” He asks bitterly.

“I was thinking of finding you a partner.” He admits, knowing that his son’s disgust with the idea will not do well if it lasts. “Someone to help you. To stand beside you and to be your support as you find your footing as king.” The tax of sitting up is too much on an injured body and the king lays his head back down again to continue speaking. “Good breeding is done differently in America, but her family is wealthy and prominent, and the photographs I have seen make her out to be quite beautiful.” When he earns a scoff in return, Miguel sighs. “There is a contract in place, Javier. It is legally binding. And— and she has already been sent for. So there is no use fighting with me about it.”

“You arranged a marriage with an American?” The surprise and wistfulness of the statement catches him off guard, even as he shuffles closer to his ailing father. Miguel Gutierrez has never claimed to understand Javi’s affection with America or American Cinema, although they have shared an affinity for Nick Cage. He reaches out and takes his father’s hand, knowing he won’t fight his papá in his last days. “I hope you have chosen well.” He murmurs softly, wondering what this woman is like. His future queen.

“Her mother was friends with your mother at university.” His son’s affection for American pop culture was something he had attributed to his late wife’s own affection that she gained at university. He never understood it for the life of him, but it made her happy to share it with their young son, so he let it pass. “She will be here tomorrow, provided that she is able to travel quickly. The flight from New York is not too tiresome.”

“Tomorrow? So soon?” Javi shakes his head, reeling from the changes that are happening so quickly. “When— when do I have to marry her?” He asks quietly.

“Before the year is out.” The terms of the agreement with the Senator over the marriage of their children was exacting, to say the least. “Seven months is ample time to know her before you walk down the aisle, Javier. But it is more time than I have. So if you wish me to be present when you wed, it must be sooner.”

Javi closes his eyes, wanting to scream and cry and refuse his father. He cannot. He cannot let down the king, the man who has intimidated him and been his idol for his entire life. “We will be married in two months.” He decides, his voice flat. Certainly not happy about the circumstances, but he wants his father at his wedding, he will already miss his mother. “We will get to know each other later.”

Again it’s surprise that crosses the king’s expression first, but a lifetime of schooling his emotions away means it is gone in the blink of an eye. “Your mother and I tried to do what we thought would be best for you,” he tells his son, seeing the frown that forms on Javier’s lips. “This is the daughter of her most precious friend.” Knowing his penchant for the creative, and trying to provide him with a happy distraction, Miguel reaches and pats his son’s arm. “Would you like to choose the suite she will stay in until the wedding?”

The pout that he hadn’t quite ever grown out of nearly comes to the surface. Instead he just nods, not really caring where the American woman who would be his queen would stay but he knows his father is trying. “I will make sure she is afforded every comfort the palace can offer her.” He tells his father, noticing how tired the old man is. “You should rest.” He urges, covering his father’s surprisingly cold hand with his warmer one.

“Not a word to the staff, mijo.” The king warns, though he does lay back again on his pillows. “Only my private secretary knows who she truly is to you. The rest of the staff are preparing for a close friend.”

“They will figure it out when we have a royal wedding in two months.” Javi snorts, reaching out to cover his father up. “Rest.” He urges softly, his heart breaking but he can’t let the king see that. “I will make sure you are not embarrassed.”

“Javier.” It will be the last thing he says in the subject for now, but he does wish to say one last thing before his son leaves the room. “Try to keep an open mind. An arranged marriage is not the worst fate in the world.”

Instead of answering him, Javi just nods, standing quickly and swallowing. “Get some rest, papá.” He murmurs softly, “I have a guest to prepare for.”

******

There is something to be said for a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, those things cannot be said for you at the moment. Curled up in the apartment you share with your brother, watching a late-night movie with a bottle of wine and a seemingly bottomless bowl of popcorn, you know you ought to be sleeping before your father’s re-election fundraiser tomorrow but you just can’t seem to quiet your mind. Today - yesterday in Mallorca - was his birthday. Another year gone by and another year closer to the impending details of the contract that has dictated your entire life.

You wonder how he celebrated. What sort of party he had, if any. If birthday cake is the same in the Balearic Islands as it is here. The internet doesn’t really have answers to these questions and you never had the courage to ask your mother for details of her lost friend’s life. You should have. But you didn’t.

The things you know about Prince Javier are finite, and you have studied them for decades. Which should be proven by the fact that you’re up late tonight watching National Treasure for the umpteenth time. When your cell phone rings halfway through the film, you mute the television and pick it up immediately. No one calls in the middle of the night unless it’s an emergency.

Private. Mallorca reads the caller ID. “Oh shit…” You murmur to yourself before sitting up straight on the couch and sliding your thumb across the screen to accept the call.

“Hello?”

Your name is spoken in a clear, Spanish accent, “Please hold for the King of the Balearic Islands, His Majesty, King Miguel.” The private secretary of the king announces him before muting the phone so she can pass it to the king.

“Uh—” Dumbstruck, you nearly spill your wine trying to set it down on the coffee table as though it were a video call or the king himself were right in front of you. He has only called you twice before - when you turned eighteen and then when you graduated college - and the last was several years ago. It sort of feels like suffocating, honestly, waiting for him to pick up the line, but you manage to breathe evenly until you hear a voice on the other end again.

“Hello?” Miguel says your name and waits for you to acknowledge him.

“Good morning, your Majesty.” Glancing at the clock, you quickly calculate it to be half past seven in Mallorca. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?”

Miguel takes a moment, composing himself after another brief flare of pain. “I hope you are doing well.” He offers. “The time has come for you to join the royal family in Mallorca. How soon can you be here if we send the jet?”

The time has come. The words seem to drown you, swallowing you up in duty and anticipation. “I will need a day to pack my things,” you tell him as politely as you can, hoping that you don’t sound as scared as you feel. The anticipation of an abrupt call like this one is why nothing in your life truly belongs to you - your apartment, your car, and all of your bills are under your father’s name so he can sell everything after you are called away to fulfill your duty. You’ll have to quit your job with no notice, but that’s a separate issue. “But one day should be sufficient.” Just one day to pack up your whole life.

“I shall have the jet sent first thing in the morning. It will be a direct flight so it should not be too long.” Miguel keeps his voice as steady as he can manage it. “My son will be informed of your impending arrival as soon as we disconnect.”

“As your Majesty sees fit.” It’s an odd thing, to speak to the man who holds an iron fist on your future, but you’ve grown up your entire life knowing that one day this would happen. To be honest you’re surprised it has taken so long.

“We will speak again soon.” Miguel promises, disconnecting the phone and then shouting for the doctor to come back into the room. The pain is worse and he needs him to manage it. There is another; more difficult conversation ahead with his son.

You exhale deeply, staring at your phone as the disconnecting line beeps and goes blank, bringing back your home screen with the background photo of the last beach that you went to with friends from college. Everyone is spread out over the blankets with picnic baskets and umbrellas while they laugh in the summer sun. It had been an amazing time – and now as you look at it you wonder if you'll ever be able to have days like that again. If your freedom, such as it ever was, has just been plucked away with one phone call. Still, despite the time, you have a call of your own to make. Opening your contacts, you select the entry for your father and stepmother's landline and hope that the ringing doesn't wake up your little sister. The preteen is a nightmare if she doesn't get enough sleep, and you don't blame her one bit.

The call is picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” The austere voice of your father comes down the line. “What is going on?” He knows you don’t call at late hours unless it is an emergency. “What do you need?”

"I need to come by the house tomorrow and pick up my trunks." Although you can feel your voice waver, you hope your father is too disoriented from being woken up to hear it. He raised you to be strong and to take on responsibility headfirst. "And I can't come to the fundraiser tomorrow." Deep breath, you remind yourself. "I've finally been summoned."

Silence fills the air between you for a good thirty seconds before the senator answers. “That is very good. It is past time.” The bedsheets rustle and he pulls the phone away from his ear to murmur to his wife. “We will draft a press release as soon as you are in Mallorca.”

"I only have one day to pack." Which means, you know yourself well enough to realize, that you'll be starting immediately. There's no way you'll be able to sleep. "So I was thinking I could drive out to Scarsdale to have breakfast with you and come home with the trunks to make sure I have enough time. Is that okay?"

Sighing, your father mentally files through his schedule. “That will be fine, I have a meeting at 9:30 though.”

"Okay. I'll be punctual." It never would have crossed your mind to be anything else. Not with the way your family operates. Scheduling is everything when your father is a senator. "I'm sorry to wake you, but I thought it was important for you to know right away."

“I appreciate the call.” Your father sighs softly and there’s another small pause. “Go on and start working on your packing list, I know you want to get organized.”

"There's a lot to do." That may be an understatement, but you're nodding as though he were standing in front of you. "I'll see you in a few hours for breakfast."

“See you then sweetheart.” The phone disconnects and your father sighs again before he climbs out of the bed. He will need to draft a press release and start working on the PR for his campaign. This announcement couldn’t come at a better time for him, and he intends to use it to his advantage. Perhaps it might even put him in the running for President.

******

It took every second of the time that you had to get things ready to leave even with your brother’s help, but in the end you drove to the private airstrip at JFK airport with an SUV full of your things and left behind an apartment that barely had a single trace of you left in it. What little you have left behind would be kept by your brother, sold, or saved for your half-sister depending on what you father saw fit.

The crew of the jet was very kind in loading your things on board and seemed to expect you to have much more, but you had kept things contained for exactly this purpose. At any point in your life you would be expected to pick up and move your entire existence across an ocean, so you had kept things contained.

The eight-hour flight would put you in Palma, Mallorca in time for dinner and you know that between not sleeping for the last two days and the jet lag, you'll desperately need to sleep on the jet. Hopefully you won't be too anxious to sleep. That would just make things that much worse.

******

“I am meeting her at the airport.” Javi isn’t shouting, but his voice has pitched up to match the same inflection as his father. Met with resistance when he announced that he would take the boat over to the private air strip to meet the woman who is to become his bride without the fan fair or pomp and circumstance that normally surrounds these affairs. “You wanted to keep people from knowing, it will be suspicious if I am in my formal royal uniform.”

"Why can you not let someone from staff fetch her and meet her properly here?" Miguel is exasperated beyond measure, having had both of his suggestions met with rejection from his son. Javier refuses to be in uniform to meet his intended and he refuses to receive the girl in the throne room. He insists on dressing down in a veritable disguise and going to the airport quietly himself. "I understand that you wish to meet her quickly and I commend that, but your position matters, Javier."

“Of course my position matters.” Javi huffs. “That is all that matters. But I am meeting her casually. I want to know what she thinks of this, of me, without any pretense or need for propriety.” He’s worried that you might be dreading this, resenting him once he had learned of the details of this arrangement. He would like to know if he is to be sentenced to a life of passive aggressive comments and resentment.

The king purses his lips, seeing from the clock on his bedside that time is running short to make this decision. "Fine." He concedes shortly. "But take enough staff with you to have her things brought to the palace separately. If you wish to have a conversation with her then you can bring her back to the palace and show her her rooms properly dressed. If not in uniform, then at least not looking like you've just come out of the pool." Clearly indicating he means that he disapproves of what his son is currently wearing, Miguel nods and sits up a little more in his bed. "Something that would be appropriate to wear at the dinner table, since you will be escorting her directly after showing her to her new home."

Javi sighs and nods. “I will even wear a sports jacket, your majesty.” He huffs sarcastically, annoyed that even meeting you is turning into an argument. He doesn’t want to be so stiff and formal all the time. Royals need to relax as well.

"Good." Glancing at the clock again, the king waves him off. "Go and change, then. You should be on your way."

Rolling his eyes again, Javi turns around and stalks out of his father’s bedchamber. Annoyed with himself and the king. Why must their relationship be so strained? Why is he so different from the man who had sired him? He wonders what this woman will think of him, already deciding he’s going to dress causally chic for the meeting.

******

The chance to wash and change and touch up your makeup on the flight after waking up from a six-hour nap was something you hadn’t expected and are grateful for. The simple but well-tailored white sundress you had chosen to make your first impression on the prince could be put on just thirty minutes before landing instead of being thrown on in the airport bathroom so that it wouldn’t wrinkle after hours on the plane. Everyone on board was so kind and so formal that you have to wonder if any of them knew who you were or if that was simply how they were trained. Either way, when you exit the jet’s cabin to come down the stairs with your travel bag in hand, there is just one person waiting for you. In a powder blue sport coat and linen shirt with perfectly tousled hair, he looks like he ought to be a model and not - you assume - palace staff. Sunglasses shield his eyes but he stands straight and watches you expectantly, suddenly making you question if you even know how to walk down stairs at all.

You are…beautiful. He expected his parents to have chosen someone with all the right characteristics and the right schooling, but the sheer force of your beauty nearly takes his breath away. His father will approve of your outfit, the white dress both prim and proper enough to be considered appropriate and yet Javi likes that you are showing some skin. The length of your arms on display and the legs both making him smile at the idea that maybe you are not as stuffy as he might have feared. “Welcome to las Islas Baleares.” He offers as you stride close. The staff rush to get your luggage and he gestures towards the boat swaying gracefully at the dock. “We have a short boat ride to the palace.”

“Muchas gracias.” As hard as you’re trying not to smile, this man that has been sent to receive you is incredibly handsome. His hair and stature remind you of the very few pictures you’ve seen of the prince, and you wonder if perhaps this man is a cousin. Some lower-level royal sent to be a one-man welcoming committee. “Everyone has been so very kind. I’m grateful to have such a personal welcome.”

He cannot tell if you are being sarcastic or not, figuring that you have recognized him. “Sí.” He simply nods his head and gestures for you to precede him. He will need to help you into the boat and then cast off the lines, preferring to operate the speeder himself.

The man’s silence is surprising but you try not to read into it too much as he walks you to a nearby ramp that leads down to a small boat dock with an elegant speeder moored at the tip. The crystal-clear ocean spreads out around you like its own kind of welcoming and you smile. “The evenings are very beautiful here.” Weather. Weather is safe small talk. “Are the days just as gorgeous?”

“Better.” Javi promises, holding out his hand when you stop next to the boat so he can assist you inside. “Not too hot, not too cold, just right.” He smirks slightly, remembering the childhood story about porridge.

“I have to admit, I won’t miss winter.” Putting your hand in his to accept help into the boat gives you a nearly electric shock that you beg your body to ignore. There is no room to be attracted to anyone but Prince Javier. It’s impossible, you remind yourself harshly.

Javi ignores how warm and soft your hands are, quickly bending down to untie the boat before jumping in beside you. Occupying himself with starting the engines and pulling away from the dock, he knows the staff will ferry your luggage over on the other tender. For now, he wants the race the boat over the waters to calm down his own rattled nerves.

His continued silence signals that the weather isn’t worth talking about, and you fall into an uneasy quiet as the boat speeds out into open water. You have about three million questions but know that you can’t ask them of just anyone. It wouldn’t be proper or ladylike to ramble on, and from the moment you stepped onto that jet at JFK you have done your utmost to be perfectly ladylike. Without knowing who knows what or what is truly expected of you beyond marrying a total stranger to produce royal heirs, you feel like the water might be in your lungs instead of under the boat. Your palms are sweaty and you twist the decorative ring on your finger nervously. At least it’s beautiful here - it would have been cruel if you had to spend the rest of your life someplace frozen when you notoriously dislike snow.

He looks back at you a few times, gauging if you like the water. Finding you looking pensive so he doesn’t speak. Not wanting to make you even more nervous if you aren’t impressed with his boating skills. Or him. Instead he throttles down as the palace comes into view, aware that everyone, even him, likes to take in the majestic site of the Balearic Islands seat of power.

When you first take in the sight of the palace standing high on the cliffside, you gasp audibly before you can stop yourself or muffle the sound. It’s truly remarkable - this medieval edifice that has survived through hundreds of years and countless occupants, and you can’t help but stare. No photograph could ever do it justice, and you’ve seen every single photograph. That is where you live now. That’s home. Unless you fuck up spectacularly and he sends you away in disgrace. Oh god. Don’t fuck up like that. “It’s…amazing,” you murmur, realizing that your escort has turned to see your reaction.

“Castel de Ocaso. The royal palace of Mallorca.” Javi announces. “Home of King Miguel Gutierrez and the crowned Prince Javier. Soon to be king along with you, his queen.” He offers before he throttles up slightly to guide the boat into the Royal docks.

“Soon to be?” You startle at that news, feeling your eyes go wide behind your sunglasses. The king had certainly failed to mention that when he called. “I—I did not think…You know who I am?”

Javi laughs for a moment but then he stops, realizing that you don’t know who he is. “Sí.” He nods, turning back around to ease the boat alongside the stone dock. “I know who you are.”

“Forgive me, I just…” It’s like your mouth has run dry and your head is spinning, except you know it’s only nerves. “I was under the impression it was not common knowledge. That only the king and Prince Javier knew.”

He hums, cutting the engine and letting the boat float up next to the dock expertly. Moving to toss the lines to the staff waiting on the pier to tie off. “Come.” He offers, stepping up off the boat and holding his hand down to you. “The king is waiting.”

“May I ask you about him?” Those innumerable questions are all bubbling to the surface as he helps you out of the boat, and you now feel even more sure that his must be a trusted family member that was sent to fetch you. “The prince, I mean?”

“What do you wish to know?” He asks, raising a brow in interest. Curious to know what questions burn in your mind about him.

“Is he a kind man?” You’ve seen official photos and been told what he likes – practically every birthday gift that you’ve ever received from King Miguel was something that Javier liked – but the question of his temperament is completely unknown to you.

“I would say so.” He offers, wanting you to open up more. “Shall we go up to the palace?”

“Thank you.” You nod politely and try to ignore the tingling in your skin at the small touch of hands. Once you’re up the stone steps built in to the cliffside, you look up at the palace again and remind yourself to smile. “Is the prince…” The curiosity is overwhelming. “Is he…shy? Outgoing? Is he a very social man?”

“Ask the questions you really want to ask.” Javi urges you, knowing that there are only a few more moments before propriety will be deemed necessary.

“It’s just…” This man is offering you just enough of a lingering lifeline that your curiosity just can’t say no to it. “It’s just that I’ve never seen photographs of him with friends o-or girlfriends.” You swallow. Hard. “Or boyfriends. And I just…I wondered if…if he…prefers women?” That might be one of the things that terrifies you most. The idea that this marriage was arranged to force him to be with a woman when he’s actually gay.

Javi chuckles. “Women.” He promises. “There is much emphasis on not causing a scandal for the crown.”

“I understand that entirely.” There was plenty of emphasis on that for you growing up as well. “Forgive me if that’s too personal. I just would never want to make him uncomfortable.” An awkward laugh passes your lips and you shrug slightly. “Hopefully just the fact of me doesn’t make him uncomfortable.”

“You care about the Prince’s comfort?” That surprises him, and it’s rather sweet. It is rare that someone cares about someone they’ve never met before, not even someone who was going to marry. You are guaranteed a crown, why would you care about the man placing it on your head?

"Of course." The idea that you wouldn't is fairly shocking to you, if you're honest. "Everyone deserves to be happy, don't they? Especially with the people closest to them. I mean...this arrangement...it's not something either of us chose. What good would it do for us to hate each other?"

“And you?” Javi turns to face you. “You would choose another without a crown? A woman?” The idea that you might be repulsed by men is one that flashes in his mind and it would be a miserably cold marriage if that were the case.

"No." The idea of having a choice is almost incomprehensible if you're honest, but you can only shake your head now. It's not as though you weren't allowed to date, it was just that no one you ever went out with was ever going to last. And if you had been found out to have slept with any of them, your father probably would have disowned you. "I mean I'm interested in men and from all the photos I've seen of the prince he's very attractive, I just...this arrangement was made on our behalf. And I would hate to think that he is dreading my arrival when I'm actually excited to finally meet him." Excited and terrified, but the terror will be kept private. This man does not need to know about your anxiety or your fear.

“Excited?” He tilts his head curiously and smirks. “Why are you excited? You are not worried? I would be.”

"Excitement and worry are two sides of the same coin." That's honest, at least, and very true. You're definitely both. "It's hard to be excited to meet the person you're supposed to spend your life with without also being at least a little worried about disappointing them. That...I guess that's why I'm so curious about him."

“No other questions?” He asks playfully. “Nothing at all?”

"I wouldn't want to be inappropriate." For all you know, you've already overstepped and offended this man or even the prince by accident by asking anything at all.

Javi snorts and shakes his head. “Of course.” He murmurs, slightly disappointed by the way you seemingly cling to propriety.

"It's just...there are personal things that I would prefer to ask him in privacy." Probably your imagination, is what it is, but when he pouts slightly you have the almost unhinged urge to hug him. "I'm so sorry. I never even asked your name and here I am asking questions about someone else entirely."

Javi had turned away, prepared to climb the stairs carved into the cliff to enter the palace but you give him the opening that he wants. Turning around, he pulls off his sunglasses and gives you a small smile. “I am Javi.”

"Oh shit." The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them and your eyes widen even more, with your entire body burning in embarrassment. Dropping down into possibly the least elegant curtsy of all time, you thankfully manage not to fall over but secretly wish you'd just topple right back over the edge of the cliff behind you. "I—I mean...I'm sorry, your Highness. I...apparently didn't recognize you." And went and made an idiot out of yourself in the process. Fucking hell...

“Obviously.” He smothers the grin and returns your curtsy with a formal bow and looks back up at you. “Now, what questions may I answer for you? Anything at all, since we are to be married.”

"How long have you known about me?" It slips out of you before you can think of anything more articulate or more interesting to ask not that you're standing face to face with him. At least you have the presence of mind to take off your own sunglasses and tuck them away in your bag.

“Two days.” Javi frowns, shaking his head slightly. “My father decided that I would learn of you the day he sent for you so I apologize that I do not know more than you are American and your name.”

"Two days?" It makes your heart sink in a way that you hadn't expected, and you can feel your shoulders roll in on themselves slightly before you push them back again. Ladies don't slouch says your father's voice in your head. "I've known about you almost my entire life."

“And you are…disappointed?” He asks softly. His entire life he had been compared to his father and been found wanting, why would the woman he was supposed to marry think any better of him?

"What? No!" When you look up again he's frowning so deeply that you have that overwhelming urge again to just wrap your arms around him and squeeze. Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately for propriety - you're frozen on the spot. "I just can't believe that your father didn't tell you. Our parents made the arrangement when I was so little that I've just...always known this would happen one day."

“My father- it’s complicated.” He sighs softly, slightly relieved that you aren’t disappointed. “I am sorry, I meant to just meet you casually, not mislead you as to who I was. It was very nice to realize you didn’t recognize me.”

"I thought you might have been your own cousin or something," you admit sheepishly, instantly wishing you hadn't said anything at all. "You have...very nice hair. I thought it might be a family trait."

“You like my hair?” Javi’s eyes widen slightly and he almost reaches up. “I like that you are wearing a dress that is not stuffy.” He admits.

"It's one of my favourites." That's why you chose it, really. To really look and feel like yourself the first time you met him. "You like it? I—I have more like it."

He nods. “It’s very nice. Perfect for an evening in Mallorca.”

"Is there anything you want to know about me?" Since he hasn't known about you for long, that means that anything about you that might have been communicated between your fathers is probably unknown to him.

“Endless questions.” Javi admits with a grin. “But the king is waiting for your arrival.” He bites his lip and decides to be honest. “My father is sick. So he will only meet with you for a few minutes.”

"I'm so sorry to hear that." The unconscious step you take toward him is like the pull of a magnet. "That's why you said soon to be king when we met, isn't it?"

“We – my father is stepping down.” Javi confesses. “And we will be married in two months’ time. I want— he needs—” Javi swallows, unable to speak the words that his father needed it to be quick. “He has few months left.”

"I see." Vivid flashes of your own mother's funeral burst in your mind but you swallow and reach out to touch his arm gently. "If two months is too long for him, just name the day." This is a commitment that you've been preparing yourself for, for your whole life. If it happens fast, then it happens fast.

“We will discuss it with him.” Javi is grateful that you understand and he covers your hand with his for a brief moment.

This time when his touch makes your skin prick, you accept it wholeheartedly. It's a giddiness in the pit of your stomach that feels a bit shallow but at the same time you can't help but be grateful for. He's incredibly attractive in person, now that you see his whole face, and you fluster a little as the two of you turn to continue walking to the palace together. "So...do you prefer to be called Javi?" You ask after a moment, remembering that he hadn't used his full name when he revealed himself to you.

“I do, Javier is too formal.” He makes a face before he frowns. “My father feels as if I am too relaxed for the throne, that I need to be more rigid, but I do not think it must be so serious all the time.”

"It's good to have someone that you can let down your guard with." That frown makes him look a bit like a sweet, discontented puppy, but at the same time you can't help hoping that you don't see it too often. "I hope that...in time...you might feel that you can be yourself with me."

“You have known about me your entire life?” He asks curiously. “And you agreed to marry a stranger?” There’s no judgement, but he finds it odd that someone so beautiful would agree to this.

"I think we must be a few years apart in age." It seems odd to tell him that you know his exact birthday and secretly always have a little cupcake that day in his honor. "You were a preteen when our parents made the contract. I was in pre-school." The slight shrug you offer says that it doesn't bother you anymore. It is simply a fact. "So I grew up knowing that one day - any day - I might get a phone call to come here and marry you."

“You have never…wanted more?” He asks, wishing that you weren’t so close to the doors. “For yourself?”

"More?" More than being royalty? That would make you about the most demanding and highest reaching person in the world, you think. Certainly it would be a rather extreme expectation. "More than what? I mean, I liked my job and all, but I tend to think I could do a lot more good here than just being an organizer for a non-profit back in New York." Or did he mean more than him? That actually makes you frown instead. "If you mean...personally? All I want is someone who loves me. And if that can't be you...well, you'll be king soon. You can make whatever decision you want."

“There— there is no divorce for the royal family.” Javi reveals, relieved, that it’s not the crown that you wished for, but love. “Once we are married, that’s it.” He might not agree with arranged marriages but he respected the crown and tradition enough that he would not make a mockery of it.

This particular fact has never been related to you so cleanly, but always sort of hinted at. And now that you’re hearing it directly from him, it seems almost foreboding. Like he is trying to see if you can be warned off. “The only expectation I have had for my life is to come here to marry you,” you tell him, fingers twisting around each other nervously. “I am prepared to do it. But if you decide that you don’t like me for some reason…” The possibility is surprisingly devastating to you, now that you’ve met him and feel strings of actual attraction for the man. He seems genuinely sweet. And is incredibly handsome. “If you decide you do not like me, then it is up to you what happens afterward. But I hope that that is not something we will have to think about.”

Javi shakes his head, no longer as resistant to the idea now that he had seen you in person. “My father has assured me that the contract is binding and it would be dishonorable for me to back out of this.” He gives you a nervous smile. “I just— I hope that I do not disappoint you. Our monarchy isn’t like England’s. We are the government and our people are very much our interest. We are small on the world stage.”

“That sounds vastly preferable, if I’m honest.” You’ve lingered outside one of the many palace doors for a few minutes now, and though you’re still nervous it’s slightly different than when you first arrived. “I hope that we can at least be friends? I would hate to be a disappointment to you, either. And I know that you did not ask for this.”

“We will have more time to get to know one another very well.” Javi acknowledges, opening the door for you to enter the palace. “Welcome home, Princess.”

______

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[omegaverse-anthropologist]

crawling out of my nest after…four months to write pt 2 of the scent post

scents and pheromones

pt. 1: physiology and function

pt. 2: scent messages

along with reproductive cycles and mating bonds, a heightened sense for interpreting scents and pheromones is a pillar of the omegaverse. this series uses language that describes scents in a way we can understand, but the effort to describe scents is in reality much like the effort to describe color to someone who may never have seen it. scents are intangible, and the descriptors used in this series are abstractions and metaphors rather than direct concrete descriptions.

review

to briefly summarize the first entry in this series, humans have scent glands present all over the body, with higher concentrations in certain areas (e.g. the palms, neck, and groin, among others). the scent carries pheromones which are interpreted by the vomeronasal organ (VNO) and decoded as basic information about approximate age, dynamic and phenotypic sexes, mating status, and pack health.

individual scent

individual scents function exactly as they sound. they are unique markers that help distinguish one person from another. they are the core of a person’s whole scent, and they contextualize all the sensations and underpinnings that carry the broader information about age, sex, etc. these scents are most frequently described with comprehensible reference points: honeysuckle, burning wood, vanilla. there are dynamic sex stereotypes—dark and earthy for alphas; light and floral for betas; warm and soft for omegas. in reality, individual scent is not influenced by a person’s dynamic sex. an alpha is just as likely to smell like chocolate cupcakes as they are to smell like petrichor or citrus.

what does dynamic sex smell like?

this is difficult to describe. dynamic sex can be described almost as a sensation more than a scent, the way that spice and sourness are sensations that can be carried by flavors without imparting flavor on their own. with that in mind, consider the following descriptions.

alpha: heavy, blunt, magnetic

beta: electric, sharp, vibrant

omega: bright, round, slow

the sensation of a dynamic sex underpins an individual’s scent. a warm, woodsy scent might be underpinned with vibrance, which would communicate that it likely belongs to a beta.

the scent of age

it may be more accurate to say that scent carries an approximation of an individual’s life stage. upon birth, infants of all dynamic sexes carry a primarily watery, milky, or powdery scent underpinned by the scent of the parent who carried them. the older a child becomes, the more their baby scent gives way to their individual scent. by five or six years old, a child may carry a watery floral scent.

at the onset of the first soft cycle, the dynamic scent sensation begins to emerge. here, a pup may have a bright, powdery, honeyed scent. the presence of the first two sensations communicates that (1) the pup is likely an omega, (2) the pup is young, and (3) the brightness and powdery scent combined mean that the pup likely has not reached their first hard cycle.

the closer a pup becomes to reaching their hard cycle, the more their pup scent fades. a strongly milky scent combined with the dynamic scent indicates that a pup is very near to their first soft cycle, while a scent that is strongly individual with only traces of milkiness suggests that the individual is approaching their hard cycle.

mating status and pack health

this information is strongly inference-based, as mating only slightly changes an individual’s scent and pack health does not directly affect it at all. bite-bonded mates’ scents will carry traces of their mates’ individual scents. on their own, that those scents are not enough to communicate who someone is mated to, how strong the relationship is, or any information about their mate’s sex. they only communicate that a mate exists. more detailed understanding of both mate and pack health comes form scent marking.

in healthy packs, members are regularly marked with each other’s scent, creating a ‘pack scent’ shared by all members. bite-bonded mates’ scents tend to appear stronger or more intrinsic to their mates because they are emphasized by the ‘mate’ scent marker the bite imparts.

most people infer from a person’s lack of pack scent that their pack is unhealthy or distant, or that they have been shunned. pack scents that are tinged with anger, frustration, or other strong emotions aid in inferences drawn on relationship health.

emotional scents

much like dynamic sex, emotions add a sort of sensation or undertone to a person’s scent. in general, emotions like contentment, joy, and relaxation tend to add warmth, brightness, or softness to a person’s scent; while emotions like sadness, loneliness, or frustration tend to darken, sour, or muddy it. because emotions are complex, however, it would be dishonest to say that ‘joy brightens the scent,’ for example.

there are some universal markers—fear and pain are distinct and consistent scents that can be identified by infants in their first month of life. but while broad emotional strokes can be inferred by near strangers, more nuanced and complex reading of a scent’s emotion requires familiarity. just as you may be able to distinguish your partner’s polite laugh, surprised laugh, and delighted laugh easily, close relations tend to have an easier time distinguishing the scents of frustrated determination, frustrated confusion, and frustrated resignation.

how can any of that information be decoded?

scents carry massive amounts of information that the brain decodes in fractions of a second, providing understanding. to describe how that information might be decoded, consider music.

most people can determine whether a singular note was played by a stringed instrument, a keyboard instrument, or a wind instrument. a skilled violinist may be able to determine whether that note came from a violin, viola, cello, or bass due to their familiarity with and repeated exposure to those instruments.

musicians hearing a singular phrase can determine which mode and key is being played, and they may be able to describe oft-used chord progressions in that mode or genre.

repeated exposure to a stimulus, when that stimulus is important, creates ease in its decoding. while newborns’ vision is blurry and limited in its color perception, a seeing adult parses a myriad of visual stimulus each second, creates connections, and draws inferences, all without conscious thought. we can pick out a close relation’s voice in a crowd because we know that voice intimately. parsing and decoding scents functions much the same way.

[burr-ell]

So I was, bless my heart, engaged in a discussion about Critical Role's pantheon on the bird app, prompted by my frustration with the way people have talked about the Raven Queen in recent months. In that discussion, the other party repeatedly compared the Raven Queen to a doctor or an employer, and, when told that these comparisons are flawed, claimed that it's necessary to use interpretive proxies to relate the gods to our material world to better understand them. I found this enlightening in the worst way.

What this person is saying is that the only way to understand things you don't immediately connect with and recognize in a story is to make them become familiar to you. Now I understand the root of this idea; part of the point of fiction and art is being able to relate to the particulars of a narrative to better understand someone else. There are many elements of different stories that do map well onto the real world. But therein lies the issue—past a certain point, fictional narratives will not ever be completely relatable to you, because they are never going to be exact 1:1 representations of your life. Even a real person's experience that is similar to yours will not match yours beat for beat because that is still a fundamentally different human being.

The question is, what do you do with that? How will you engage with this new concept or experience that the story is presenting? You can immediately try to make it comfortable and recognizable, or you can let go of yourself and accept that there are things here you may not know, and you get to know them through their voices alone.

At the end of the day, art is a form of communication where the communicator imparts some kind of message upon you, whether the message is something about death and grief and the value of life or that it's really funny to watch people get hit with heavy objects, and while it's up to you how you respond, your response may not ever be heard. A key part of communication is listening to others and treating them as fully autonomous human beings, and effective communication recognizes that some of those human beings' lived experiences are nowhere close to resembling yours and are not obligated to be. The only way to respect that is to meet people and their stories on their terms—giving up control and giving up that which you understand. You have to be willing, if only for a moment, to deny that your experiences should have any bearing on what another person is trying to say at all.

I can only speak for myself here, but if I'm not willing to do that, then what I'll end up putting back into the world in response will be nothing but reflections of myself. And I like myself a lot—which is why I know that sounds sad.

[kingalpharhys]

ELITE CHANGES: THE (R)EVOLUTIONARY NEW FIVE-PART TEXT COLLABORATION FROM ALPHA RHYS AND AVIS SAPIENS

ALPHA RHYS (@kingalpharhys) and AVIS SAPIENS (@avissapiens) are back just in time for the shifting of the seasons with our newest collaboration; an electrifying new written series. Separately, we have a masterful grip on our respective lives and careers; professionally and personally soaring to new heights each and every day. Having successfully worked together in the past, we have put in the tireless effort to nurture both a strong friendship and a smooth working relationship. We share an immense proverbial library of knowledge and experience between us; we often have invigorating conversations on topics ranging from law to sociology, and everything in between. When it comes down to it, there really is no better team to impart their refined wisdom onto our fellow man and mean every word.

With this new collaboration, we hope to efficiently and effectively communicate what appears to be the simplest human concept; evolution. Evolution as it pertains to personal growth, changes in lifestyle, ideology, and intentions, and how these natural changes can be perceived, processed, and practiced in all of our daily lives.

This is an overarching topic near and dear to both myself and Avis, with a hyperfocus on my own desire to take my virtual personality in a new direction; one that better aligns with the man I am today. I have known for a long time now that the perpetuation of who I once was was neither sustainable nor healthy; I simply did not know how to go about the change as it pertained to my presence, particularly as it pertains the blog on which you are reading this now. To my surprise, while developing this project with Avis and speaking to a select trusted group of men on here, I discovered I'm not the only one who feels they've outgrown at least their digital presentations, seeking the pursuit of a more fulfilling online presence; one which matches the men they are in their real lives and conveys that proudly for all to witness. In doing this project, our utmost goal is to express our own vast growth, from young, seemingly well-intended, though (sometimes) misguided fratty brahs to well-rounded, productive, independent elite men. In doing so, and communicating what we've discovered on our own journeys, we hope to inform, enlighten, and maybe even inspire some of you who may feel the same way but not know how to go about the intricacies of your own personal journey.

We hope that you'll set aside any prejudice you may possess to embark on this new adventure with us, and learn what it means to be the best possible version of yourselves; it's what you deserve. It's the Elite way; it's the Alpha way.

Text and imagery are a complete collaborative effort between Alpha Rhys and Avis Sapiens; employing an overall halved 50/50 workload to ensure our messaging and vision are combined and communicated as concisely as possible. That said, primary contributors to each chapter will be credited for their work accordingly.