#because it denies people the ability to feel the full range of their emotions which is so damaging

[uncanny-tranny]

hi there! im the anon who isnt happy with his surgery results. i wanna thank you for everything that u said! my friends are very supportive but ive only been able to open up to three ppl about my disappointment and none of them have your level of understanding (not blaming them just stating facts) i think ive been feeling guilty over all of this, which makes it worse. like im supposed to be happy but im not. now that ive accepted it, i have to work on a way to be okay until november. thank u sm!

I'm so glad to hear from you again! It's really disappointing that there's this expectation that trans people must perform happiness for others in our transition... it isn't right or fair or realistic. I don't know what your life is like personally, but I am confident you will be able to get through this. You are stronger than you know, you are more worthy than you may realize <3

[rcksmith]

Geniuses — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Hi! I am just the annon that recently sent the request 3,11,16 and 22. You asked what I wanted, I forgot to put that I got them from the “fluff” prompt list. I am so sorry!! And don’t worry! It’s not your fault I didn’t see the list 😂😂 but thank you so much! I really like your fics and your writing style so much! 🥺🥺💖💖”

Fluff prompts:

3“You’re staring again.”

11. “Wow- you look…amazing.”

16. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.” 16. “I heard that!” 1 .“You were supposed to!”

22. “well the probability of that is 0, but you go ahead”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Haha love, it’s okay💖💖 i hope you like, because I really like to writing tis. Thank you for resquest. Love u❤️

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: nothing, just bad words and fluff.

(gif not mine)

— — — — —

It was fun to think that Five never had an equal opponent, someone as smart, canny, sarcastic and ironic as he. Five Hargreeves was always used to being the smartest person in the room, always being the one with the quickest response on the tip of his tongue.

And, well, it was fun to think that it all went up in the air when you showed up.

You were cruelly intelligent, able to correct errors in Five's math equations, sarcastic and always had a cheeky smile on your face. You weren't used to being underneath, which is why when Five wanted to show that he was better than you, well, you wouldn't give up.

But unlike the time traveler, you didn't have super powers, you weren't extraordinary, you didn't have any skills, but that didn't stop you from being equal to him in every other way.

Whenever Five wanted to come out on top with the argument that he had powers and you didn’t, you raised an eyebrow, looked at him as if he had made a basic math mistake, and said: “I don’t need powers, I’m a genius, you should try to be one too.” And it made him furious, and, truth be told, you just liked to tease him too.

But just as the two of you had personality differences, the ability to handle emotions and people well was different from Five. You were kind, funny and wanted to make people comfortable around you. Being a genius didn't mean you shouldn't be a nice person, and Five usually forgot about it.

As you and Five spent more time together, it became clear that you two were no longer able to stay away from each other. Five liked (secretly) to have someone to really talk to. Someone that understood and followed his line of reasoning, that understood the equations he did, and that considered him a genius instead of crazy with some reasoning.

Being with you was like, for Five, meeting another human being in a dog-only world, and when he kind of told you that in other words, you laughed out loud and said: “Or how to find an equal sign in an equation.” And that's when he felt his heart pounding for you.

Five remembered when you beat him in chess for the first time, no one had ever done it before, and he agreed to play with the full awareness that he was going to win again. Well, that is not what happened.

When you checkmate his king, Five was stunned. He leaned over the board, looking at the pieces as if they had created a head. And you laughed, leaned back in your chair in a victorious smile.

“This is impossible.”

“it's actually just intelligence, why don't you use it now and then?” You were kidding, it was obvious, you couldn't stand hurting people and Five knew it. The dynamics of the two of you who were exchanging barbs.

“You must have stolen or something, this is very much your style” He returned, eyes on you as you laughed “Let's play again and I will give you a the most brutal defeat.”

“Well the probability of that is 0, but you go ahead” You accepted, first because you wanted to show that you would beat him as many times as possible, and second because there was nothing you liked more than spending time with Five.

The matches started, and you won every time. And when the sunset and the breeze was cold, you and Five looked at each other, with the peach rays of the sun illuminating their faces, and the mutual smile they gave out sweetly.

He were really enjoy the game and you knew that, and he knew you not just want the victory. You two know Just more matches would make you spend more time together. And... Five didn't remember if anyone ever really engaged in a game just to want to be around him.

But things really got more real and serious when Vayna asked you to go to one of her violin performances too. And, well, you wore a long, red dress, firm in all the right places, and Five couldn't get his eyes off you just one second.

It was as if, when he saw you, all the equations in his life had been solved. And a single thought rang in his mind: “I want her”

And the certainty of that was absolute. He wanted you as an overwhelming force, which shook his whole body. He needed you like needed oxygen. And there was no way to deny that anymore.

But it all happened in a fraction of a second, and you had just chosen that moment to approach him and ask:

“So, how am I look? Are you going to make a little joke about berries or something?” You laughed.

But Five could think of nothing but that if there were the personification of sin and perfection, it would be you. He looked at you as a whole, a fucking beautiful woman with a fucking brilliant mind. You are incredible and he had no other adjectives for you.

“Wow- you look… amazing.” You felt all the intensity and truth in that sentence, and your heart pounded in your chest.

For, truth be revealed, you had dressed up for him. Because wanted him to think you were beautiful. Because you thinking him were a young God with all the vigor and beauty.

Five really wanted to focus on anything but you. Not In the swing of your body, in the outline of your lips, in how he wanted to put you out of that dress. He really tried. But his eyes were always drawn to you at the end of the effort, as if you were the only thing worth seeing.

“You’re staring again.” Luther whispered in his right ear, while Five kept his eyes on you for a moment that seemed to him seconds, but to Luther it was hours.

But who could blame him? You looked like a mirage, too beautiful to be true. And Five wanted to record every detail of it in memory.

“Take care of your life!” He replied, taking his eyes off you.

After that night, Five already knew that he could no longer keep his hands off you. He couldn't just look at you anymore when the hunger to touch you started to hurt physically. As soon as you got back to the mansion, he grabbed you by the wrist, in a strong, firm grip, and pulled you with him as he climbed the stairs towards his own room.

Five needed you. A kiss, a caress, a body-to-body contact, anything, he just needed it. And it had to be now, he not wait for you to go home and come back later, he couldn't wait days...damn it! He couldn't wait seconds!

Then he knocked and locked the door behind you when you entered the his room.

“What the hell?” You rubbed your wrist that he must not have measured how much firmly him hold you “You're acting like a nut and I thin ...”

But Five didn't give you time to continue. He couldn't give you time. He could not explain something that for him was still a mess. So he showed you.

Five came to you in big, determined steps, and he fit your face in his hands before tilting and sticking his lips to yours. And then the world seemed to make sense for the first time.

Everything was suspended. The people, the rotation of the earth, the wind, the noise of the streets. Everything went into a black hole and was no longer important. The only thing that really mattered was you. And Five kissed you until the oxygen was strictly necessary.

“I have been waiting for this for some time.” You confessed, and Five blew out a low laugh, answering you with another kiss that ended up taking you to a bed and messy sheets.

After that night, Five became more attached to you, and the relationship grew stronger over the weeks.

“You know this is wrong, right?” You said as you took a look at the equations he had made that afternoon.

Five looked at you with a frown, irritation in his eyes, but you were trying to contain your laughter.

“You have nothing else to do no?”

“Besides seeing your accounts wrong? No.” You had fun, taking one of the white chalk Five was using and erasing an equation from it, redoing it in the right way.

You could feel his gaze on your back, but you did your best not to laugh and return the chalk complacently.

“Now it's right.”

Five looked at the account you redid, and gave you an expression of so few friends that you couldn't control your laughter anymore.

And his expression closed even more. You shook your head and were already on your way to the door when when you heard him mumbling:

“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

Then you laughed even harder and turned to Five, who had been doing his math again on the walls of his room.

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!” He countered without even waiting a second, and then you came back towards him, the laughter still present in your voice, your eyes full of play and love.

You put your arms behind his waist, still with the remnants of laughter coming from yours lips, and leaned your head against his broad back.

Five felt and heard your laughter, and then controlled himself not to laugh too, before giving yours hands that were hugging his waist a few gentle pats.

“You are unbearable.” You mumbled, but full of love overflowing with the words “But I love you.”

Then Five laugh came and he exchanged pats for an affectionate affection on yours hand, signaling that he also found you unbearable, but that he loves you.

[wangshuus]

delicacy | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: yan!diluc ragnvindr/gn!reader

genre: psychological

cw: unhealthy relationship, mentions of forced marriage, ooc diluc (lol)

wc: 2.6k

summary: to diluc, you are a delicacy that he wishes to savour.

note: i’m sorry in advance my dear readers this is absolute dog water ajfhaiufhfui. this was just an experiment since i don’t think i’ve written a decent yandere ever and this kinda proves it but it’s ok i’ll get there one day. just take my ooc diluc. yes, i know i screwed up real bad on this one but let's just say i loosened a few screw for the sake of the plot,,,yeah,,,i’ll probably need to proof read this again too but its ok ahhhhh.

“It’s useless to keep tugging at those binds. You know they won’t come off unless I take them off myself. Now, be good and sit still.” You heard a familiar voice. 

It was once a voice that you were delighted to hear but now the very mention of the owner sent a wave of striking cold upon your body, ironic considering who it was. You had no idea where you were, what day it was, or what time it was. You were completely clueless, being stuck in a dark room with nothing but a bed in which you’ve been bound by the headboard. The room was concerningly chilly, the air in the room being crisp, cold and suffocating. The figure in the room made their way to the edge of the bed next to sit next to you. You felt a gloved hand place itself upon your cheek. It was so warm you almost wanted to lean into it but you refused to find comfort in the touch of your detainer.

You were but a simple bartender, loyal to working at the famous Angel’s Share in Mondstadt. You previously resided in Springvale with your parents but moved to the city due to your job. Your family lived a happy little life, not drowning in riches but being comfortable enough to sustain a plausible living. In your head, you were so painfully boring; so here lies the question, how exactly did you get into this situation? Not even you knew the answer but one thing that you could make sense of in the whole ordeal was that the main that stood in front of you was mad.

Diluc Ragnvindr has many titles ranging from the renowned owner of the Dawn Winery to one of Mondstadt’s most esteemed bachelors. He claimed such a high and mighty reputation that no one would’ve guessed the devious intents hidden in the back of his head. Yes, you were a mere bartender that worked under him at his own tavern but ever since you were hired, he felt something stirring up within him. Now you see, Diluc wasn’t someone that you would find chasing after anyone in fact, he’s never chased after anyone at all until he met you. He was confused at first why he started feeling the way that he did when you were around, unfamiliar emotions began to bubble inside of him.

You were just so easy to talk to, so charming, so comforting, a breath of fresh air to him, truly. At first, he assumed it would be nothing but a short lived infatuation, expecting for his feeling to dissipate like a dying flame in a matter of time but this flame only burned bigger, brighter, and belligerent as the days passed. Diluc wasn’t exactly sure how his feelings came to be. Perhaps it was due to the loss, betrayal and tragedy that stained his past. Maybe it was his longing to be loved again, to hold someone close and never let go, or to have someone hold him and allow him to bask in the feeling of being lovingly embraced-- which was a feeling that became painfully foreign to him.

It had been so long since he found comfort in anything or anyone, becoming accustomed to being isolated, building up walls to keep everyone out and away. He had no one left to care for and presumably no one left to care for him, making the pyro wielder take on such an aloof personality. After his whole ordeal, he was never truly the same, so to see him look genuinely pleased by someone was such a shock to the public eye. Of course, you had come to enjoy Diluc’s presence as he stopped by the tavern fairly often to check up on the flow of business and you had the chance to talk to him during his visits. You had heard from others that the young man was awfully reserved and indifferent towards any subject matter but he was seemingly interested in any conversation between the two of you, even partaking in the act of idle-chit chat as a means to continue talking to you. Anything for you.

He was greatly enamoured by you; everything about you. He’s taken every second he could to observe you and your nature, falling in love with the little things about you from the way you brightened up the room with your cheerful demeanour, the way you gracefully made your way across the tavern during, the way your eyes twinkled when you were talking about him about something you loved--archons the way he wished for you to only look at him with those eyes full of an enthusiastic sparkle. He wanted that; and he wanted it all for himself. Once he realized this was the case, he went through a spiralling hole of madness. He found himself being obsessive with looking out for you, going above and beyond by following you in the shadows every chance he could get, his self control on his possessiveness running as thin as a strand of hair. 

Diluc was scary to say the least. His ability to deceive people into thinking he was still the reserved yet distinguished gentleman while he was falling into a pit of insanity was nothing short of terrifying. He remained unsuspecting and planned to keep it that way, deeming himself capable of being able to resist his maniacal urges. All until one conversation between the two. You had mentioned that your family had begun to run into a few financial problems, becoming entangled in a circle of debt. You had concluded that though you loved what you were doing, it couldn’t have been enough to support your situation so you had conversed with Diluc about going to Liyue to find extra work. All you knew was that there was a high chance you couldn’t stay grounded at the tavern forever, even rejecting Diluc’s offer of a raise, deeming that you didn’t deserve it and did not wish to trouble him. You saw this as a good opportunity to explore beyond the land of the wind that you had ironically been grounded at your entire life. 

Oh no no no, this couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow it to happen. And that’s when he snapped. 

Diluc’s mind worked quickly as he devised a dubious plan to keep you grounded. He knew what you were like; he knew you would be stubborn and go. He saw that shine of determination in your eyes when you mentioned your plans of fleeing Mondstadt, the same shine that he wanted to capture and keep for himself and oh boy, he was gonna have it. The next time you saw him, he had personally invited you to a party that he said he was hosting. You found it quite surprising since it was a rarity for him to ever host a party considering his nature but you accepted nonetheless. You trusted Diluc enough and besides, who would deny an invitation from someone like him. Little did you know, this was quite possibly one of the worst decisions you’ve made in your entire life.

“Dear, you’re spacing out again.” He spoke, a foreign tone that sounded so sickly sweet to a point where you wanted to hurl. 

“Please don’t address me as such. You’re twisted for doing this. What do you even want from me? Huh? I can’t offer you anything so this is nothing but a waste of time.” You spat at him, harshly pulling your cheek away from his grasp. 

“Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me. Also, I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting disobedient before I really lose my patience. I’ve been so patient with you, do you know that? I’ve been waiting for ages to have you all to myself like this but…” He paused for a moment.

“I was far too nice and considerate of your freedom. To think I’d let you leave just like that is absurd. That’s exactly why you’re here. I’d like to apologize in advance for tricking you into thinking there was an actual party, especially since you got all dressed up for me tonight but I believe this is quite the positive thing because now I’m the only one that gets to see you like this” He said as he gently lifted up a piece of fabric from your clothing.

“You wore the clothing I had custom made for you. I knew you would look ravishing in it. You’re my pretty little doll, aren’t you dear?” He said as he brought a piece up to his lips as they gently graced the smooth satin of your outfit. 

A strange package had made its way to your doorstep days before this treacherous evening. When opening it up, it was revealed to be a black and red outfit made of what felt like to be the finest fabrics and silk you’ve ever seen. The first time you tried it on, you felt ecstatic with being gifted to you, blushing to yourself over the fact that Diluc had gone out of his way to get you something this stunning. Now, you wanted nothing more than to rip the thing off your body and run away from the damned place you were held captive but you knew it was no use at this point. Your body shivered at the coldness of the room as it felt like the sheer cold was steadily increasing.

“You’re shivering. You’re cold aren’t you?” Diluc said, having the audacity to chuckle at your pathetic state. You stayed quiet, not wanting to admit or give into anything.

“No response? Oh well, it’ll only be a matter of time until the possibility of freezing to death becomes exceptionally high. I’d rather not have that happen so I’ll do you a favour since you happen to be a little shy isn’t that right? You don’t need to be shy with me. Come here.” He says as he draws closer to you. Your chains rattled while you attempted to put as much distance as you could between you two but it was no use. He swiftly wrapped his arms around you, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other at the back of your head, pulling you into the crook of his neck. Your hands pushed against his chest in a poor attempt to put as much distance between you and him but in the end, you couldn't bring yourself to. The coldness of the room significantly weakened you although it ceased when he held you, his body warmth being enough for him and yourself as well. You cursed the pyro wielder and his antics. He knew that you’d be freezing, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to get closer to you. Your arms fell back on to you sides 

“There you go, all relaxed now. See, nice and warm.” He cooed while stroking the back of your head lovingly. Although you were physically warm now, you still felt a shiver run down your spine at the touch of the pyro user.

“You’re sensitive to touch, how cute.” He stated before pulling away to look you in the eyes, the edges of his lips slightly upturned.

“On another note, I have some news to share with you.” He spoke out. Your eyebrows furrowed at the mention of more news, thinking there is no possible way that anything could get any worse; unfortunately, you were dead wrong.

“You see, I had the chance to speak with your parents the other day in regards to your financial situation. I explained to them that I was more than willing to help them but they became quite stubborn after I introduced my offer. I see where you get your stubbornness from now.” He sighed.

Your eyes widened, fear, anger and concern mixing in your (e/c) orbs. 

“Diluc, I swear to the archons what did you--.” He brought a finger up to your lips to hush you from your growing concern. 

“Hush now, there’s no need to get riled up, I’m not finished. Now quiet down and listen to me.” He stated.

“It was quite a simple offer I gave them, really. I would be a financial aid all in exchange for your hand in marriage. They started to get all defensive, claiming that they’d never marry off their child. They were oh so protective over you, but they could never come close to comparing to me.”

Dread and horror filled your eyes as you were rendered speechless, waves of unpleasant emotions washing over you like a tidal wave. 

“You see, it definitely took a lot of work to get where we are now, but you need not to worry, dear. They will not be of any concern to us anymore.” He said as a smile graced his features. You would’ve considered him to be handsome in the moment but the smile he held was so deranged that it was appalling. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, too afraid to even ask what happened to them or what became of them. You knew the situation; you knew the power that Diluc held. He was well aware of his looming power of you and he used it and abused it. It didn’t take very long for your tears to start streaming from your eyes as you began to sob, tears spilling onto your lap. Diluc cupped your face as he brushed away the oncoming tears that continued to overflow. 

“Shhh, don’t cry my dear, this news is excellent. I couldn't even fathom you getting hurt or even leaving me but I don’t have to worry now do I? Because you’re going to be all mine.” He said before forcibly kissing your tear-stained cheeks. 

You felt absolutely disgusting and embarrassed over the lips that graced your skin, having someone as unhinged and deranged as him seeing you in such a vulnerable and helpless state. 

“You know, I’ve had my fair share of people both leave and betray me.They’ve left me alone in this world but none of it matters now that I have you here. You’re the most divine person I’ve come across. So lovely, so warm, and so bright, like the rays of sunlight. I want to bask in your presence and now, I can for however long I’d like. I refuse to lose anyone else, especially not you and now this time, I know I won’t. If your freedom has to be sacrificed in order for you to stay alive, so be it. I’ll choose you the finest white attire for our special day. You’ll be me precious darling for the rest of your days. Doesn’t that sound lovely, dear?” You remained unresponsive.

One of his hands slipped past the fabric of your clothing as his gloved fingertips lightly pressed onto the bare small of your back, earning a yelp from you.

“I said doesn’t that sound lovely? Respond when spoken to. I want to hear your voice.” He said sternly. You managed to mumble out a small yes in return.

“That’s my good little darling.” He spoke before before he pulled you in for a kiss. You refused to return the action and it certainly didn’t go over his head. The hand that rested on the small of your back began to get hotter, feeling as if it was searing your skin, earning a shriek and a cry from you, allowing him to deepen his passion filled kiss, smirking at the way you’ve decided to submit yourself to him while his own lips remained locked with your own.

The land of Mondstadt was said to be the land of freedom and yet here you were, your fate bound and chained by the insanity disguised as love by Diluc Ragnvindr. You were a delicacy to him, and he’d be sure to savour every last bit of you. 

[shini--chan]

Ohh can I have a love triangle with Y!1P America and Y!1P England with reader who is a British spy in america (or an american spy in the UK)?

Ah, you guys sure do love your love triangles. I do as well – there is just so much tension between the characters. Also, this ask was tricky because I just couldn’t decide if I wanted to write the UK spy or the US spy – for those of you that have read my stories on Quotev, you know I’ve written spy stories for both characters. So, in the end I decided to write both scenarios.

Yandere Love Triangle – England vs America (Spy AU!)

US spy

As I’ve mentioned in the England HCs, Arthur would like to have a lover with a lot of smarts. So, you being a spy would automatically tick all the boxes in that category. Alfred would be well aware of his father’s preferences in a lover and this want to capitalize on them.

America would consider using you as a Romeo agent in a Honey Trap operations – he sure wants to blackmail dear old dad – but then would see you as too skilled to restrict your work to seduction and further your tasks.

You looked at the man guiding you through the crowded streets of London. It was rush hour, far too many people for your liking either languidly milling about or rush ahead as if the devil was chasing them. His hand was on the small of your back, arm having pulled you too close to just be friendly.

Arthur Kirkland was moonstruck, shooting you longing glances every now and then. You knew that it was decency and respect that prevented him from showing blatant affection for you in public. Both of you were in a relationship, no matter how unofficial it was.

While he calmly strolled with you, pointing to the sights of the world famous city and explaining the history behind some monuments, you couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made him so special. Kirkland had his own eccentrics, yet none of those would have warranted the USA sending one of it’s top agents after him.

Your amazement would largely be founded in the fact that even in a relationship, Arthur had be very slow to open up to you. He would like to keep his secrets. Additionally, in his post-imperial afterlife he would be the equivalent of a lion padding in the drawing room anymore. He’d seem rather harmless on first inspection, opting to hide the traits that would make him so dangerous. You finding out somewhere down the line that he is the personification of a nation would be very enlightening to you.

Of course, while Alfred would intellectually know that you’re just a spy pretending to be over the moon, his emotional part would seethe with envy upon seeing with Arthur. It would motivate him to make his own moves – interrupting you while you would be out for dinner, making lewd jokes about you in his father’s presence. This would cause Arthur to cling to you ever more tightly, in the fear that his son would steal you from him.

When you would point out to Alfred that he would be sabotaging your mission, he would counter that he would just be aiding you. Arthur would become too obsessed with to see what you were doing; his advances would distract his father further and you wouldn’t be suspected because which country would try to sabotage their own missions. If he would be right or wrong would be left to be seen.

You dug your nails in his shoulders, making him groan into the kiss. His lips remained firmly pressed to yours for a few more moments before you tilted your head back to get some air. Your head was spinning from how vigorously Alfred had been kissing you and you swore that your cheeks were flushed.

Glancing at him, the dim light of the broom cupboard you were in allowed you to see the red doting him cheeks and the hunger that glinted in his eyes. He leaned in for another bout of smooching, but you quickly pressed your index finger to his mouth, lightly pushing him away.

The man left out a low whine when you denied him: “C’mon sugar, don’t be such a jerk.”

You shook your head: “This is going too far now. I’m supposed to be in a relationship with Kirkland …”

“Screw him”, Alfred interrupted you and bended down to plant butterfly kisses on your neck. In-between he said: “He can go screw himself. I told him that during my fight for independence and I’ll gladly tell him that now. I want you.”

UK spy

While his glory days would be long gone and over, Arthur would still regard himself as a global player. And to ensure that he would remain in his precarious position, he’d become invested in being privy to the secrets of others. Knowledge is power after all, and there would be few that would know that better than he would. That is where you would come into play, as his means to an end.

He would have it organised for you to be sent to act as his wayward son, after having reviewed your file as well as having evaluated you personally. This would be where England would start to take an interest in you. Therefor, he would pull some strings to have himself implemented as your direct superior and intermediator.

Since you would be a spy, you would have a lot of skills in your arsenal ranging from social skills to escape tactics, linguistics to sciences. This in turn would fulfil many of America’s criteria when it comes to the ideal partner. And because such people are rare, he would seize the chance when you would start to show interest in him.

Alfred might or might not notice that you would have ulterior motives for getting in a relationship with him. He would cling to regardless and convince himself that he could “help” you overcome all your flaws.

Of course, the more time you would spend wrapping Alfred around your finger, the more jealous Arthur would become. It would be a stead build up, the feelings festering and growing more intense until he wouldn’t be able to control them. Ironically, like his son in the previous half of the answer here, Arthur would see romancing you as a way to taunt Alfred, to make the younger personification angry, causing him to make mistakes.

However, England would be more tasteful than his offspring and opt to be more discreet with his advances to you. That way, you also wouldn’t be so inclined to push him away.

The public library was full at this hour, something that you intended to use to your advantage. It was New York, possessing one of the biggest public libraries in the world. Which was why you were somewhat surprised when Arthur comfortably slid into the chair opposite you, not the slightest hint of irritation on his face.

You granted your wristwatch a quick glance.

“Right on time.”, you stated as a substitute for a greeting.

As per usual, the absence of manners didn’t sit well with Arthur. “Good afternoon to you too”, he dryly said.

“I thought you would get lost before finding me.”

He chuckled at that, relaxing as much as the thin, polyester cushioning allowed. “You underestimate my abilities, my dear.”

Again, you were amazed at how your direct superior came on par with your skills. Most of those above you in the workplace hierarchy were either pencil-pushers or tech-geeks. Yet Kirkland really knew what he was doing. Additionally, he made it look easy. Secretly, you believed that he was holding himself back and that his talents actually exceeded yours. Yet that was a matter you could contemplate another time.

Wordlessly, you shoved a book on rose gardening for old people to him and he deftly snatched up the book, evidently pretending to not notice the non-verbal jab you had made at him for one of his more serene hobbies. Lightly, he opened up on the page where you had hidden it and greedily eyes the slip of paper and the access codes written on it.

He gave you a smile, one of the rarer ones that made you shiver. Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder to endure that unfriendly ears that hear what he was about to say. Unwarranted – Alfred was somewhere upstairs, hounding some poor librarian for old journals on the Mayan and Aztec cultures; he wouldn’t be coming soon.

“Well done”, he commented, showing you that he did have the capacity to give praise. “The next time you have something, feel free to pop by at my flat.”

Somehow you knew that that wasn’t an offer, it was an order.      

[itsuki-minamy]

PROFILE: HIRASAKA DOUHAN

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Real name: Hirasaka Douhan

Terms of address: Hirasaka, Douhan, Kuroko (Nickname in Jungle)

[PROFILE]

Birthday: October 29, Scorpio

Blood type: A

Age: 28 years. (At the beginning of the second season.)

[APPEARANCE]

Physique: 1.65 cm in height. A slim body. The abdominal muscles are slightly cracked.

Face, hair: Beautiful face with droopy eyes. Blonde. Glasses.

Attire: When she was on duty, she wore a power suit, her head was completely covered with a ninja hood, and her voice was changed by a voice changer, so there is almost no clue to identify an individual from the outside.

Personal effects: Two ninja blades, like a giant shuriken. Kunai.

[HABITS, SKILLS]

· Complete business-type division. She has a calm judgment.

· She can take full advantage of the modifiability to go through the wall.

[IMPRESSION, OTHER NOTES]

· The color of the image is "dark green", which looks like a blob of green on black.

· Seen from the edge, she is completely a ninja, but she is not particularly aware of that.

[POSITION, OBJECTIVES]

She is U-rank in the Green clan, “Jungle”.

Originally, she has accumulated “Jungle” points so that she can become a J-Rank, but instead of becoming an executive and difficult to take free action, she can stay in the U-rank and exchange points earned by doing only her mission. Choose a position. She sees the "Jungle" mission as a "business" rather than a game. She has no interest in Nagare's purpose and ambitions and has no sense of clan membership. In addition to the mission of “Jungle”, there are many companies that host Hirasaka's own route, and the reason why Hirasaka is a “Jungle” rancher is that it is possible to use these talents to carry out those endeavors efficiently big.

[PERSONALITY, CONDUCT]

She demands "power", "money", "security" and "perfect business".

She is a professional who does not like clumsiness and uncertainties, such as in-laws, personality, and ties.

[FATE, ENDING]

After being arrested by Fushimi in the first attack on the Mihashira Tower, she was placed in the "Scepter 4" camp, but then Fushimi and Munakata hired her respectively to complete his business.

[ABILITIES, TACTICS]

She uses a trick that can transform the target and dive there. Making good use of that technique, she is good at surprise attack tactics that launch attacks from unexpected places. Because she doesn't like danger, she basically prefers a "one-sided attack from a strong position", and when she gets close to him, she draws as much as she can, or punches away from her.

On the other hand, she isn’t good at hitting at close range, but if necessary, she will also carry a hand-to-hand combat with a ninja sword on her back.

[POWER]

B (Lower than business class.)

[LIKES]

Strength, money, security, loneliness, credit, give and take, sushi pizza, sake, hot springs.

[DISLIKE]

Risks / restrictions / less balance / trust / concession (whether done or not)

[HOBBIES]

A board game where you can play solitaire, Tsume shogi, Tsumego, etc.

[FASHION]

Basically a ninja-like power suit. When she acts like an ordinary person, she wears various clothes depending on the situation.

[BODY]

She has been strengthened as a member of the clan.

The lightness is selling, and the power is almost the same as the ordinary clansman. If she competes with the executives, she will lose.

[INTELLIGENCE]

High. She has a high degree of head rotation and ability to calculate the situation, and she constantly determines when to shoot and when to attack.

She has her own information network of hers and, in particular, does not neglect the force analysis of the main characters of each clan.

[BELIEFS]

She values ​​power, money, and loneliness above all else.

She acts alone and hates being forced by something. Basically no one trusts her, and she is wary of having multiple hiding places around the world.

A perfectionist who does not hesitate to engage in any illegal activity as long as she is satisfied with the "business" she received.

[RELATIONSHIPS]

[EARLY YEARS]

Although she grew up in a common family, her family relationship was cold and she grew up alone.

When she was a high school student, her brother was born, who was her father's stepson, and the family got even worse. The two live as close siblings, but the younger brother has an accident in front of Hirasaka and has a difficult body to survive. Hirasaka works to save her brother and earns money, but her brother died. She loses her purpose of making money and laughs, but eventually the media will supersede her purpose, and the "business" of making money will be Hirasaka's sole purpose.

[TIMELINE]

· 1985, Hirasaka Douhan is born.

· 2013, Hirasaka participates in the first raid operation on the Mihashira tower and is captured by "Scepter 4".

[ATTITUDE AND THOUGHTS TOWARDS OTHERS]

[TERMS OF THE ADDRESS FOR HIMSELF]

The first person is "Watashi" and the second person is "O omo (Mr.)".

She speaks in ordinary masculine language. Don't use honorifics.

[TOWARDS HISUI NAGARE]

She calls him "O omo (Mr.)".

Formally they are the "Green King" and the member of the green clan, but for Hirasaka, Nagare is just one of the clients.

However, since she knows that his power can be wielded by the three dimensions of Nagare's chest, she treats him with the attitude that she will not lose her courtesy. She treated him as "President of the client".

He thinks that he can "do what he cannot do" or "can cause disaster for all mankind", but believes that he has no choice but to make such a dangerous bet. He can be said to be desperate for "the salvation of mankind by ordinary means".

[TOWARDS MISHAKUJI YUKARI]

She calls him "O omo (Mr.)".

After all, he is a customer. She has no feelings, but sometimes he is indispensable.

However, she is less polite than with Nagare.

She treated him as a "point of contact for business partners".

[TOWARDS GOJOU SUKUNA]

She has known him since he was a lower rank than her, so she has a bad attitude towards Yukari.

However, they will be treated as equal business partners during joint missions.

She doesn't want to give emotions just because he's a boy, but she can't deny that her judgment is a bit awkward.

[TOWARDS OTHERS]

She basically ignores the red clan and the blue clan. Fighting the incompetent is too risky unless it is a clear obstacle to achieving the goal.

The same applies to other ordinary people, and those who don't need to get involved will pass completely.

[mae-gi-writes]

Only For You | Hyunjae

anon request: in which you catch Hyunjae with another girl, leading to misunderstandings about where his love truly lies. 

I hope you like it anon! <3 So sorry for the lateness xx 

Genre: fluff, slight angst

Words: 1k 

------

If she thought that she was being subtle, she wasn’t. 

You had noticed her hooded, wandering gaze over Hyunjae’s figure the moment the door to Changmin’s flat opened, practically overflowing with balloons of all sizes as if the day itself didn’t scream enough that it was, indeed, his birthday. The girl -- a classmate of yours, a familiar face you had spotted wandering around campus but never actually spoke to -- but while you weren’t one to judge others only based on your biased assumptions, her cold mannerisms and reputation did not help her case whatsoever, especially when your Major was such a small one in the first place. 

But you had wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, and thus had only nodded with a quick smile in her direction as you greeted the rest of Hyunjae’s friends with open arms like a bunch of puppies ready to be cuddled. 

“Hey Fiona,” Hyunjae threw the said girl a quick smile as he spotted her figure, which she returned with a full-fledged beam. Your stomach twisted and you looked away, trying hard not to scowl at the energy radiating off her skin. 

You didn’t like her. You couldn’t deny it. But she didn’t do anything wrong either, which prompted your guilt to resurface. 

She was just greeting him. They’re friends, of course she’s going to smile at him, you reminded yourself sternly, don’t be stupid. 

The flat -- unlike any other time when you would stumble in unannounced -- was now bathed in purple hues of light sprouting from various spotlights lining up the wall of the flat. Bodies danced along to the music, dark silhouettes moving to the beat and chatting idly amongst themselves as you followed Hyunjae to the makeshift bar that had been set up on Changmin’s kitchen counter, courtesy of Eric’s newest addiction of course: he was the one who usually changed Majors just like he would change underwear, and this month he dreamt of becoming a somelier.

“What do you want to drink?” asked Hyunjae as he grabbed two clean glasses from their drying rack. Spending his time in Changmin’s flat most of the time, Hyunjae could practically feel his way around this space blindfolded. 

You tilted your head to scan the array of beverages, “vodka and coke for me.” 

“Sure you don’t want to start with a shot?” Hyunjae raised his brows, wriggling them in a teasing manner and causing you to swat his arm. 

The night wore on, causing you to forcibly relax and mingle with people that you haven’t seen for a while as you brushed aside the weird knots inside your stomach. It was stupid, you thought to yourself, it was stupid and immature of your part to think that there was more to the way Fiona’s sultry gaze had run over Hyunjae’s figure. You had to admit that you were being paranoid, more so than usual, and so forcibly attempted to focus back on Changmin and Sunwoo who were currently arguing as to who was the better dancer. 

Your gut feeling was never wrong though.

It was only a couple of drinks later that, as you stumbled over to the washroom to relieve yourself from the amount of alcohol coursing through your veins, that your eyes fell on two figures pressed up against the corridor.

One of them was instantly recognized as Hyunjae. 

A silent gasp fell from your lips and you had half a mind to just storm over to wrench them apart, when his voice sliced through the air like a knife: 

“I’m not going to repeat myself, Fiona. Step away from me. Now.” 

Your brain instantly prickled at the girl’s name, before you registered his words. 

“You like me, Hyunjae,” Fiona’s voice was thick with desire, her silhouette pressing up to Hyunjae’s chest and causing another bout of fury to rise through your chest, “tell me you like me. I’ve seen it, the way you look at me--” 

“What are you talking about?!” Hyunjae’s arms grasped her arms and shoved her away, “You’re crazy. I don’t like you--” 

“Then why do you keep leading me on? What about all those messages? And the fact that you chose me as your partner--”  “That was just because you didn’t have anyone else! I felt sorry for you!” 

“Lies,” she shoved her face right into his with a hiss, “you’re lying. You like me, and--”

You couldn’t hear anything more. A sob escaping the back of your throat, you turned on your heel and dashed down the hall without caring whether they noticed your presence. From the way Hyunjae’s tone of exclamation followed your footsteps, you guessed that he’d realized who had just witnessed their small encounter. 

“Y/N!” His cry bounced off the walls, “wait!” 

Turning into one of the rooms and quickly shutting the door behind you, a small breath -- almost like a whimper--  escaped your lips as you pressed back against the wall. Your legs felt shaky, almost as though you were going to collapse from the weight of this sudden revelation. 

Maybe Fiona was right. Maybe Hyunjae did like her. What did he even see in you anyway? Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes at the thought, a film of water dotting your vision. You were nothing more than just another girl and these, these girls could be found anywhere.

No wonder he liked Fiona. She was beautiful, gorgeous and edgy. The kind of girl that boys admired and enjoyed chasing, the kind of girl that you were never going to be. 

A knock vibrated through the door, muffled against the sound of the music pounding through the floor.

“Y/N. Please open the door.” 

Hyunjae.

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood.

“Please Y/N,” there was an edge of desperation in his alto, “it’s not what you think. You didn’t let me finish.” 

Still, you kept quiet as you contemplated his words. It wasn’t the fact that you didn’t trust him, no. It was the idea of his rejection, of the words that might strike you right through the chest and tear your heart apart that made you so reluctant in hearing what he had to say. 

When he knocked once more and pleaded for you to let him in, there were a few beats of silence in which you hesitated, before reluctantly reaching over to unlatch the door to see the desperate, puppy-eyed look sported by your boyfriend. 

“Y/N,” he wasted no time in slipping in and closing the door behind him. He clasped your hands in his, his thumbs brushing comforting circles over your knuckles as his eyes searched yours for any indication, “what you saw wasn’t--it wasn’t what you think.”

“What was it then?” your voice shot out as sharp as a newly-sheathed blade.

“I was just on my way to the bathroom and then she just cornered me out of nowhere, started spluttering things about us being good together and how I was wasting my time--” his tone grovelled with sudden anger as it flashed through his eyes, “you should’ve seen her. She was acting like we were the closest of friends when in truth, I haven’t even spoken more than ten words with her ever since the start of semester. And most of the time it’s just about work.”

Still, your eyes were glued to a random spot on his shirt as you weren’t sure whether you’d crumble the moment you’d see his face. His words rang between your bodies like a gentle reminder of his love for you, and your heart couldn’t help but tremble slightly at the amount of emotion in his voice.

“Please Y/N,” Hyunjae’s alto choked up with emotion. He stepped even closer, causing you to get a whiff of his cologne that you loved so much, “you have to believe me. Why would I look for anything else when I have everything right here--in front of me?” 

The tears that were threatening to fall now cascaded freely down your cheeks as you nodded, allowing him to bring you into a soft, gentle hug. One of his hands found comfort on your back, while the other cupped your cheek to wipe away at your face. 

“I never want to hurt you,” came Hyunjae’s hushed murmur, a soothing lullaby to your ears, “I hate seeing you cry.” 

You buried closer, arms winding around his middle, as if failure to do so might wrench him away from you.

“I love you,” your muffled words didn’t go unnoticed by the said young man, who pulled back to gaze down at you with a tenderness that made the breathe still halfway through your lungs.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I love you too.” 

And then he brought his mouth over to yours, sharing with you such a gentle, tender kiss that your entire body quivered for more. You unconsciously gripped him a little tighter as he kept kissing you, mouth imprinting over yours in a chaste manner that made your heart sing. 

“I love you,” he kept on murmuring as he moved to kiss a path along your jawline, up your cheek, stopping to nibble upon a patch of skin at your neck, “I love you,” showering you with kisses to the best of his ability, you let out the softest of giggles at the numerous pecks he kept on peppering over your skin like the softest kiss of rain on a hot summer’s day.

It was only when you pulled apart, foreheads touching, that you mumbled, “I’m sorry, for doubting you.” 

He grinned back though, “as long as that means you love me enough. I’ll take it.” 

----

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

God of War (PS4) Review: Kratos’ Postal Grief Beard Versus Norse Mythology

Once upon a time, a man was born by the name of Cory Barlog and thus a coin was flipped. Would he become a videogame developer or would he take up guarding the Mines of Moria by pulling wizards into a precipice? Those really are the only two options with a name like Barlog. Anyway, apparently the Mines of Moria were a bit of a commute, so the world gained a talented Auteur developer with a unique vision for a game series about going postal in ancient Greece. Fast-foward a number of years specifically calculated to make you feel old and ancient Greece is a distant memory. Norse mythology is where all the cool kids hang out nowadays, and that’s where we’re going in today’s review.

As you might have guessed, I’ve just finished playing God of War (PS4), which is fun to say because it rhymes. It’s a very good game that should be a very bad game. When considering modern media artefacts, I’m often prompted to ask the question ‘what went so wrong?’, but this may be the first time I’ve had to ask the question ‘what went so right?’.

Let me explain: God of War 4 (I don’t care that they don’t put the number on the box art, that’s what it fucking is) makes a single, monumentally stupid creative decision that should ruin the entire enterprise, but doesn’t. And that creative decision was- wait for it- a stab at maturity.

The last time we saw Kratos- the world’s angriest mythical being- he was finishing his battle with the Greek gods in God of War 3. There was a moment in that game which, to me, typified what was so great about the series. If I recall the sequence of events correctly, you kill your way through an ocean of expendable goons and critters who are just trying to defend their home on Mount Olympus, dripping with blood and screaming furiously, then wander into the bedroom of one of ancient Greece’s sauciest goddesses and play a sex minigame that you win by fucking her so well that her handmaids orgasm too. Then you toddle outside again and, head cleared, solve an incredibly complex and cerebral puzzle involving non-Euclidean geometry and perspective manipulation that takes bloody ages. That, in a nutshell, was the core identity of the original God of War: a gleefully unrestrained and immature approach to sex and violence coupled with a grouchy willingness to make unsuspecting players feel like fucking idiots for no reason whatsoever. It was awesome. In contrast, God of War 4 picks up many, many years later with Kratos hiding out in Midgard of the Norse mythos and, for once, he hasn’t got a nark on and he’s not trying to stick his cock in someone with cartoonishly huge knockers. He’s just sad because his missus has passed away, leaving him and their young, impressionable son alone in a big, scary world full of trolls and ginger psychopaths. ‘Sad’ isn’t a completely new emotion for Kratos, but, up until this point, he was usually sad in a way that resulted in five hundred people getting their spines broken in a very colourful manner. Now he just wants to cremate the remains of the woman he loved and carry her ashes to the tallest peak in the nine realms so he can scatter her in accordance with her final wishes. And that’s what he does, with son- Atreus- in tow. It’s a twenty-plus hour game in which the objective is very simply to honour someone’s preferred funeral rites- nothing more, nothing less. It’s very modest by Kratos usual standards. Remember that his stated goal in the previous game was to punch freakin’ Zeus so hard that his face would go all concave and then repeatedly stamp on his corpse.

We never actually find out much about what Kratos was up to between games or how he met his wife. However, he’s a bit thiccer than in previous instalments and seems to have lost the use of the ‘jump’ button outside of context-sensitive environments. On that evidence, I choose to believe he’s been running a small but successful family restaurant called ‘Kratos’ Potatoes’ and enjoying it all a bit much. And why not? He beat up Zeus- if he just wants to create and sample homely yet exotic Greco-Norse fusion cuisine while growing a ridiculous straggly dad-beard, I say let him crack on. Actually, is it a ‘dad beard’ or is it a ‘grief beard’? I think they send them to videogame characters in the post whenever a loved one dies so they can signal to the world how sad they are through the medium of angsty facial hair. But where was? Oh yeah: cracking on with it.

Y’see this is where the plot comes in: the Norse gods won’t let Kratos crack on. They’re determined to make him bow before Odin- especially Baldur, who is way too invested in having a fight with Kratos for reasons that won’t become apparent until very late in the game. They just keep turning up and trying to break Kratos and his increasingly like-him-but-not-as-good-at-it son Atreus. This time around, our heroes commit heinous acts of violence to defend themselves, not enact revenge, as they travel, inexorably, to the top of a lonely mountain through landscapes of stunning natural beauty and many, many hostile creatures.

Of course, Kratos taking his son on a hiking holiday with added troll-murder and the occasional slap-fight with Norse mythology’s biggest killjoys doesn’t sound as interesting as the original games. After all, those were basically a production of Kill Bill in which the part of Bill was played by a guy with the power to summon lightning bolts and access to a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters and demigods. The ‘fun factor’ even seems to have taken another downgrade, in that Kratos no longer operates with the entertainingly demented passion of the insane: he has been tempered by time and love and managed to turn himself into a paragon of serious self control. So why is God of War 4 so bloody good? Partly, I suspect, the answer lies in the constantly evolving relationship between Kratos and Atreus, which gives the story an unbelievable amount of heart and always manages to feel very organic. Kratos never learned how to be a parent, and we essentially watch him do it in real time, forming a bond with his son that seems impossible at the start of the game and inevitable by the end. Partly, the games greatness lies in the characters you meet along the way, who range from bickering dwarves to talking, decapitated heads who prattle on like laid-back tour-guides. Partly, it’s in the beautiful, epic landscapes that make the journey across the Realms to the highest peak feel epic and significant, even while it is small and personal.

But a videogame is nothing without gameplay, and it is here that God of War 4 really shines. I loved the original God of War trilogy (especially the third instalment), but I rarely felt like I was playing as, y’know, a god of war. Kratos might not be an uncontrollable whirlwind of fury any more, but he feels truly powerful for the first time in the ongoing series. In fights, every punch feels like it could crack stone; every axe-throw like it could rend the sky; every chain-whip like it could legitimately start a forest-fire. Out of combat, Kratos moves around the environment with the stolid grace of a man who knows his movements are inevitable; irresistible; an imposition on the environment that can’t be denied. You climb and complete elaborate, complex traversals knowing that the satisfaction you feel isn’t just the satisfaction of finding the correct route or solving an obstacle, but the satisfaction of a being forcing his way through a landscape that resists him at every turn but cannot stop him. The puzzles- of which there are many- strike the perfect balance between conceptual trickiness and ease of execution to remind you that Kratos is smart as well as determined; that his mind is as indomitable as his body. Then there are the little touches involving heaving huge stone pillars and similar unnecessarily over-the-top efforts. In short, the gameplay is interwoven with who Kratos is- with what he is in way that seems completely unprecedented. Even the RPG elements feel  appropriate: they reflect the protagonist’s growing confidence in a skillet he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

Do I miss the uniquely juvenile, over the top identity of the old games? Absolutely: I’m a great fan of gratuitous gore and scantily clad women with big fuck-off swords. Usually, I find the desire for maturity in games to be a silly, pretentious trend that foolishly eschews anything obviously ‘fun’ for no reason other than courting the respect of people whose respect isn’t worth having. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here- at least, not entirely. The developers of the God of War games are clearly artisans and craftsmen of extreme talent: their attention to detail is superb and their ability to weave a good tale from a simple premise is actually a little daunting for someone who considers himself a bloody good story-teller. It’s worth remembering that the de facto head of the studio, Barlog, became a father himself before commencing work on this game about a father learning to bond with his son. It feels personal and meant because it is. Other games might reach for superficially mature themes like family and redemption for altogether cynical reasons. God of War 4 does it because such thoughts are clearly much on the developer’s mind. I asked already ‘Do I miss the identity of the old games?’ and the answer is still yes. But that question deserves a follow-up: am I willing to embrace the identity of this new, quieter God of War anyway? And yes, yes I am.

But if we could have a few more women with enormous knockers and Kratos going properly batshit just once or twice in the next sequel, that would also be welcome. I mean, let’s try to strike a balance here, people, for pity’s sake.

[i-need-air]

Hawks Fluff Alphabet.

So I wrote this because I was bored, thought it was fun and it ended in 2,4k words. Casually. No biggie. Just chillin here. I think it's been done a million times already bUT have aNotHer oNe.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Lazy days together are the definition of perfection for him. The domestic vibe those days have make him belong somewhere. For a hero that's been forced to have a one track mind to now have this intimacy plus on these days he gets some rest with his significant other... Perfection.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Your face and your expressions. He studied people for so long that he's a natural at it and when it comes to you, it's all so comforting. Your smile; the way your eyes sparkle, small wrinkles at their corner, the sweet curving of your lips. Your blush; cheeks flustered, you denying it, head turning the other way, pouty face depending on how he teased you. Your frown; determination in your orbs, the clear need to argue written all over you. Your concentration face, your daydreaming face, you...

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

If you're feeling down he takes his compliments a step higher yet his voice gets softer. It lacks the teasing edge it normally has. Attempts to cook, fails, brings you take-out. Tries to make you smile all the time, mostly by being a dumb chicken or by being cheesy.

If you're having a panic attack/are depressed, he's attentive and listens to everything you have to say. Is there to support you and will try to give you a hand, just tell him when you're ready to take the step. Hugs and full of sincere love.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Has always dreamed about a big family, even if he's actually terrified of the idea. He had a disfunctional upbringing, filled with poverty, alcohol and arguments and then he has been thrown into a life of basically military training from a very young age. He wants stability, he wants his chance to find love, enjoy a normal person's life, go on casual dates, sing in the rain, get married, have kids... the image of being called Papa crosses his mind. Getting old, having a big house filled with warmth. Hopefully someday you'll allow him that. But first he has to allow himself have it.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Goes with the flow? Sometimes he takes the wheel, sometimes you do. He doesn't think one has to be more dominant than the other. Always asks and considers your opinion about things.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Hmm. Fights happen, sure, but rarely since he's one to stop and track back once one starts. He likes to communicate the problem from the very beginning. Once a fight does step out of hand he over-explains things, which can get very frustrating. He wants you to see his side of the story too so he'll need some acknowledgement from your part before willing to listen more too. He's not stubborn but expects to be heard too. If it gets too much, you both have to decide to cool off and talk later. Keigo is easy at forgiving because in that time he considered your point of view and hopes you're willing to discuss things calmly. Although these type of fights almost never happen. More like arguments with Facts™. He does not shout. He won't relive his childhood, he's better than that.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Very verbal about it with a teasing edge. Loves to hear how you indeed wanted to, for example, pamper him. Appreciative of every small thing you do for him since he's not used to people caring about him on a personal level. Even the fact that you ask him how was his day, how is he feeling, so on, makes him thankful.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Before the LoV he wouldn't tell you about his missions when they were on-going, but afterwards he'd slip some juicy details casually. Makes you pinky promise to not spill things but actually does keep stuff to himself. Yeah, you get some exclusive details, specially if he gets hurt and tries to make you feel better. Keeps stuff that could bring harm to you. Doesn't tell you about the LoV, just promises you he's always going to be there, so don't question when he dissappear for a few days. Trust him, please.

About casual things, gossip and other stuff he's an open book. "So I was casually flying while on duty and you won't guess who I saw kissing who... 👀"

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You made him belong somewhere. I mentioned it before but he has a reason to go home, a reason to look at the phone without expecting the Commission on his ass or a "friend" that only cares about his status. He's got that's tranquility he craved.

He will always encourage you to be your best self in a way or another.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Doesn't get overly jealous but might be insecure at times. Maybe you deserve better, someone who has the time to be there for you, someone that might not die the following day... If he sees someone getting close to you and with intentions clear of pursuing you, not just flirting, he'll get into that mentality. A tiny spark of possessiveness awakens in him but remains casual and laid back.

This is one of the concerns he doesn't voice straight away to you but will, eventually. Just tell him he's all you need.

If the person just flirts with you, Keigo knows you can handle yourself. Will step in if you're uncomfortable and will, without a doubt, make that person 10x more uncomfortable. He does trust you completely, even if the insecurities get to him at times.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Oh, yes. His kisses range from sweet to needy and even the smallest peck has passion in it, which you can see in his eyes afterwards.

Your first kiss was after a date, something casual as he tried his best to do it right, you know? At your front door when he dropped you off after a full date of trying to be being a gentleman, he waits for you to lean in as a signal, but he couldn't help himself to interrupt your sweet goodbyes. "Can I kiss you, dove?"

Slow, sweet, he breathes you in as he encircles your frame in his arms. One of his favorite memories and also his favorite kisses.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

People consider him flirty but he's just good at compliments. With you in the picture? Now that's Hawks actually flirting. And it was supposed to be his way of telling you he's very much interested. And he's smooth.

Overall decides to be casual yet serious about it. When he finally gets time alone with you he just tells you he's really interested and would love if you wanted to grab something to eat that same night. As a date.

The first "I love you" is quiet, he stops what he's doing and just grabs your wrist gently, looking into your eyes. It does take time to process the emotion and to assure himself it's okay to say it. Does confess at a random time but soon you learn he just really couldn't hold it in anymore. After the first one he never stops saying it. Makes you wonder if he's a chicken or a parrot.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Ultimately, yes. I already went through it before, he dreams of that.

After the LoV ordeal and when everything settled, he'll be ready to do it. It somehow taught him that life is short and he needs to take the wheel in this one. He has many scenarios in head but goes to a simple night out, renting the top of a building, preparing it with a single table in the middle of it. Lights, flowers decorating everything. Personal chef, beautiful view. And a ruby engagement ring.

[I made a whole post about married Hawks, check that out 👀]

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Dove, love, angel... And then some very cheesy ones. All the cheesy nicknames actually. All of them.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It depends on who he's with. If he's with people he trusts, which are not many, he'll be talking about you all the time. Proclaims he's in love, doesn't care. His smiles are more sincere and if you'd known him for long enough you'd see how he didn't have such a weight on his shoulders.

Clearly won't go proclaiming it to villains, so there's that. Is very careful about mentioning you to the Commission too, he's worried they'd use you against him. They do know you're together but that's all they need to know.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

C'mon, shy away from kisses? Keeps it lowkey from the media but apart from that? Who can deny you some smooches?

You met his friends, all being heroes like him, and you both are officially The Couple™. You know what I'm talking about.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

His ability to read people and his honesty about it made you avoid some harmful "friends" that came your way. Know that he just means the best when he mentions something.

On a more casual level, his feathers bringing you both stuff from the kitchen while you lazy around in the couch is just 10/10.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Ok, this boy is somehow a romantic but a dumb romantic. Likes clichés but with his twist, mostly humorous.

Brings you little things that reminded him of you, it's his thing to prove that you're always on his mind even if he's far away.

"No, baby, don't leave me! I love you... I can't live without you!" while grabbing you close as you were to leave.

"Keigo. I'm just going to work."

... or...

"Love, there's a storm, let's make out in the pouring rain."

"Did you just wake me up at 3 A.M. to–"

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Definitely. He likes to encourage you to do your best and if he can help somehow, he will. Sees so much potential in you. Will be your personal cheerleader.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Balances it. Does enjoy some structure but with you he learned he can also let go, so don't be surprised when he grabs you one day and takes you to a random carnival or something. Is bummed because he can't be as spontaneous as he wanted because of his fame, but it's okay, he can bring the spontaneous at home.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Observant man as he is, Keigo knows you pretty well. Which is okay actually, he wants to know you as much as possible and loves growing and maturing with you.

Listens to you and considers what you have to say and believe me, your words mean a lot to him.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

When he got so attached to you he tried to separate himself from the thought of a relationship but just as he started the process he also stopped instantly. Hawks knew you were important from the moment his heart ached to be near you and that feeling remains to this day.

Loves you. Just... Loves you. You're so important in his life it actually scares him. Because life is also unpredictable, his job specially. Many people hate him...

It's a thought that invades his mind frequently. He's past the point of backing out, so what he needs to do is to protect the most precious human being he's ever known with all his power.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I don't know why but I feel he's a very artistic person. As in he draws and has a small sketchbook in his jacket all the time. And many pages are filled with drawings of you.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Dumb romantic chicken loves the affection and the attention that comes with it. Give him both. Drop everything you're doing and give him love, damnit. Hugs are a must; his chin on your shoulder watching you do something; his head in your chest as you play with his hair; sit on his lap and smooch his face while he just hugs you tight. Skin contact is very important to him and I think it's his actual love language.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Pouty and an attention whore although nobody notices. Once he gets the time, he texts you how much he misses you. He's very vocal about it so expect 17 texts in a row telling you. All written the same minute. Guess what happens 5 minutes later? 20 more texts.

Just give him a call already. That's when you hear him pout about it. Loves hearing your voice but if you're far apart for too long he will ruin a cute romantic moment with an innocent "So what are you wearing?"

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

It might sound crude but him being in a relationship with you while the world is basically on fire is enough saying. He can't let you go anymore. He doesn't think he ever was after landings his eyes on you. Will fight for this relationship and promised himself to protect you from danger.

[violethowler]

Mixed Signals

As we near the end of this series of essays, I’d like to take the time to talk about something that I’ve been wanting to discuss in relation to the Kingdom Hearts series for a while. I briefly mentioned it in my previous essays but never went into detail because I figured some corners of the fandom would be unreceptive to discussion if I brought it up. But given how many times I have seen Kingdom Hearts fans praise this series for its lack of negative male stereotypes, I think it worthwhile to explore how the series handles gender norms in relation to the Heroine’s Journey. 

Maureen Murdock developed her template while working as a therapist with women in their 30s who had pursued careers in heavily male-dominated fields only to find themselves feeling burnt out and unfulfilled once they achieved their goals. A significant part of her inspiration for the Heroine’s Journey came from her patients describing how they had set out trying to achieve success in these environments by emulating the men in their life such as their fathers, while pushing away the influence of their mothers[1]. As such, deep down the themes of the Heroine’s Journey reflect on the struggles of someone who doesn’t meet the ideals of what society tells them a person of their gender is supposed to be and critique those gender norms. 

On a meta level, Kingdom Hearts represents a fusion of cultures, made from a collaboration between an American and a Japanese company. While there are a few places where the two cultures overlap in terms of gender norms, it isn’t a 1:1 comparison. Therefore, the gender norms of both cultures should be taken into account when analyzing how the portrayal of the two leads in Kingdom Hearts aligns with the critique of gender roles presented by the Heroine’s Journey. 

In terms of Japanese cultural norms, Sora’s emotional openness, compassion, optimism, and ability to easily form connections with others are fairly standard for male protagonists in Shonen stories[2]. However, following the first game in the series, the narrative begins to deconstruct this archetype over the course of Sora’s character arc. From KH2 onward we see him use his cheerfulness and optimism to hide his own insecurities and self-doubt. Our first introduction to his life on Destiny Islands depicts him competing with Riku in physical challenges, while the other kids talk about how much stronger than him Riku is, setting him up for a disproportionate focus on physical ability over emotional. This leads him to believe that he has no strength on his own and must rely on the power of his friends in order to be worthy of recognition and praise. 

Related to Sora’s insecurities about his own strength, one archetype found in both Japanese and American culture is that of the masculine protector. The idea that a man must be ready and able to physically defend the people he cares about from harm, often to the point of self-sacrifice. In fiction, this trope is most frequently employed with a character’s friends, siblings, or romantic partner. The gender of the protectee can vary depending on the story and their relation to the protagonist, but male heroes protecting female love interests is one of the most common ways I’ve seen this trope be expressed. 

Failure to uphold this ideal is commonly used as a source of angst for the male protagonist. Heroes who fit this mould are known to brood heavily if harm comes to their loved ones that they are unable to protect them from, and in some stories may be ridiculed or shamed by others around them. There are also variations where the hero’s inability to protect them is used as a source of angst for the protectee in addition to the main character. Common in stories where the one being protected is a friend, sibling, or love interest, some narratives will have the protectee react to the hero’s inability to protect them by deciding to “toughen up” so that they don’t need protection. 

As mentioned in my first essay, the protagonist of a Heroine’s Journey and their Animus are frequently depicted as two sides of the same coin, with shared core character traits that manifest in contrasting ways because of their different circumstances. At the start of the Kingdom Hearts series, both Sora and Riku have built their sense of self-worth around their ability to live up to this idealized protector archetype. Their insecurities stem from their perceived failure to adhere to that role, with each of them coming at it from a different direction. 

Being the older of the two, Riku is presented as physically stronger than Sora, something which the other kids on Destiny Islands make note of in the first game. Tidus talking about how, despite getting stronger, Sora is “still no match for Riku[3]” and that Kairi “can always count on him(Riku)[3]” frames Sora’s insecurity about wanting to be on equal footing with his Animus as being rooted in his perceived inability to fulfill social expectations.  

When they meet again in Traverse Town, Riku’s first on-screen reaction to how Sora has changed since they last saw each other is surprise and confusion at Sora being able to defeat threats like the Heartless on his own, indicating that the root of Riku’s insecurities - which Maleficent of course exploits - is his belief that the value Sora places on their bond is conditional on Riku being needed as a protector. If Sora can fill that role himself, then what purpose does Riku have? 

In keeping with how protagonists are usually depicted fulfilling this role to the point of self-sacrifice, Sora and Riku have both shown a tendency towards throwing themselves in front of an enemy attack to protect someone they care about, such as when Riku leaps in front of Xemnas’s aerial blade to defend Sora in the final boss fight of Kingdom Hearts II, or when Sora puts himself between Kairi and Terranort. Xigbar even comments on this tendency when he talks about how he doesn’t admire “one guy leaping into danger if it means someone else might have to jump in to save him.[4]” 

From the western perspective, one of the things that many English-speaking fans have praised the series for is its avoidance of negative stereotypes in the writing of its male characters. A common cultural attitude in the United States holds that a man must always be stoic and aloof with everyone but his romantic partner. That a man who is open with his emotions, especially if it involves crying, is weak and unmanly. That engaging in activities that society associates with women and femininity makes one less of a man. 

But Kingdom Hearts, from the point of view of western fans, rejects all of that. The writing of the series allows its male characters to express the full range and depth of their emotions and not once does the narrative ever frame them as weak or pathetic for it. None of the male leads are ever made fun of for crying or expressing vulnerability, and they never reject doing something simply for being “girly”. Not only that, but the arc being set up for Sora to learn to acknowledge and work through his insecurities and self doubts instead of hiding them as an allegory works as a direct rebuke of the idea that showing emotional vulnerability is somehow unmanly. 

On another layer, Sora’s arc can also be seen as a critique of the Japanese concept of Honne and tatemae. Tatemae (literal meaning: “built in front” or “facade”) is the behavior and attitude one presents to the public that conforms to the expectations of society in addition to the individual’s station and circumstances, while Honne (literal meaning: “true sound”) represents a person’s true opinions, which are kept hidden except from close friends and may or may not match their tatemae[5]. This can sometimes be used on a more interpersonal level to evade confrontation and avoid hurting others’ feelings, such as when someone says “we should hang out sometime” with no intention of doing but not wanting to hurt the other person’s feelings by admitting that they aren’t interested. 

The idea of keeping one’s true feelings separate from what one says in public fits with how characters in the Kingdom Hearts universe have been shown to hide their own inner darkness and in some cases deny that it’s there, which Xehanort took note of in his conversation with the Master of Masters in Re:Mind. We also have Donald and Goofy’s talk in the beginning about how the Gummi Ship “runs on happy faces[3]” instilling in Sora - despite their good intentions - the idea that his negative feelings about the destruction of his home are a burden to the trio’s ability to complete their mission. As a result, Sora continues to downplay his own sadness and other similar emotions across subsequent games. As a contrast to this, Esmeralda tells Riku in Dream Drop Distance that everyone keeps things locked inside sometimes and that it’s okay to keep some things separate from the world at large until they’ve had time to figure out their feelings for themselves. In this context, the version of tatemae that Donald and Goofy present ultimately causes more damage in the long run, while Esmeralda offers a healthier model of the concept. 

So from a Japanese perspective, the Kingdom Hearts story is deconstructing two common archetypes found in coming of age narratives aimed at pre-teen and teenage boys and at the same time offering a critique of a common cultural attitude about individual expression. Meanwhile from a western perspective, the series defies conventional norms of masculinity and male characters in fiction while also critiquing elements of those views at the same time. 

Both of these are perfectly in tune with how the Heroine’s Journey structure provides social commentary on gender and cultural norms.

The fact that the series challenges the audience's perception of gendered narrative archetypes and social norms from multiple perspectives is also reflected in how it mixes the symbolism associated with its two lead characters. For example, the series repeatedly presents canon Disney Princess romances as parallels to Sora and Riku, but which of the two corresponds to the Disney Prince and which one is the Princess varies from one game to the next: 

Sora acknowledges in the first game that like Ariel, he wants to explore the outside world. The same game also presents Ursula tricking Ariel into helping her as a parallel to Maleficent’s manipulation of Riku. 

Kingdom Hearts I presents the Beast as a parallel to Sora through their shared refusal to give up after being laid low by Riku upon their arrival at Hollow Bastion. Meanwhile in Kingdom Hearts II, the Beast is presented as a parallel to Riku, as mentioned in my previous essay. 

The first game parallels Sora to Aladdin through similar shots of the two calling out for Riku and Jasmine respectively as they are forced to flee the location of a boss fight (the Cave of Wonders for Aladdin, Monstro’s stomach for Sora). Kingdom Hearts II uses Aladdin avoiding Jasmine at the start of Sora’s first visit to Agrabah to parallel Riku avoiding Sora throughout KH2 as a whole. 

While not considered an *official* Disney Prince (he’s still unofficially marketed as one), Kingdom Hearts III connects Hercules diving into the River Styx to save Megara’s soul with Riku’s sacrifice for Sora at the Keyblade Graveyard. Meanwhile in KH2, Hercules’s attempts to hide how exhausted he is trying to meet everyone’s expectations greatly resembles Sora hiding his doubts and insecurities. 

The fluidity of which one corresponds to the Disney Prince and which one is the Princess in these parallels also carries over to other narrative symbols. In visual mediums, the protagonist and Animus of a Heroine’s Journey are frequently depicted with a Yin and Yang motif - light and dark in balance with each other. In visual depictions of the concept of Yin and Yang, Yin is the black side - representing darkness and associated with femininity - while Yang is the white side - representing light and associated with masculinity[6]. Visual depictions of Yin and Yang use the Moon to symbolize Yin and the sun to represent Yang. Many visuals include an opposite color dot in the middle of each side, representing how the two forces balance each other out - there is darkness within light and light within darkness, so to speak. 

The depiction of Yin as darkness with an inner light aligns with Riku’s character arc over the course of the series, but Sora is the one associated with moon imagery. Meanwhile, Yang being the light with a bit of darkness inside matches how Sora is on the path toward learning to acknowledge the darkness in his own heart, but Riku, who walks the “Road to Dawn[7].” is the one visually connected to the sun. Even in other pairs that have narrative parallels to Sora and Riku, the Yin-Yang motif differs from conventional depictions. Instead of the typical male Yang and female Yin, Yozora and Nameless star’s Yin-Yang motif has the gendered colors reversed. Nameless star is dressed all in white with dark hair, while Yozora wears dark clothes and has lighter hair. 

This kind of fluidity in terms of symbolism and narrative parallels is perfect for a Heroine’s Journey. Many stories that follow the formula symbolically associate the male love interest with the archetypal damsel in distress, with the female protagonist being cast as the knight in shining armor heroically storming the castle in order to free them. But in the context of a Heroine’s Journey that is setting up a same-gender romance with two male leads, it adds an additional layer of meaning: 

A well known stereotype involving same-sex couples is that their roles in the relationship will be exactly the same as the roles that society associates with an opposite-sex pair, with one always corresponding to the “female” role and the other to the “male” one. The Uke/Seme trope common in fanfiction from the early 2000s is a notable example of this. By presenting a romantic relationship between two male leads where the symbolism and narrative parallels are framed in a way that depicts the implied gender roles as constantly being in flux, the narrative sends a message that people are too complicated and flexible for every romantic relationship to fit into the same rigidly defined roles.

In conclusion, the depiction of Sora and Riku both as individuals and as a developing romantic relationship is consistent with how the Heroine’s Journey challenges gender and cultural norms from the perspective of two different cultures. By following this narrative framework, the Kingdom Hearts series deconstructs gendered narrative archetypes from both Japan and the United States, reflecting its origins as a crossover between franchises popular in each country. 

Sources:

[1] The Heroine’s Journey; Maureen Murdock; 1990. 

[2] TV Tropes; Stock Shonen Hero; https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/StockShonenHero

[3] Kingdom Hearts; Square Enix; 2002. 

[4] Kingdom Hearts III; Square Enix; 2019. 

[5] Wikipedia - Honne and tatemae https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honne_and_tatemae

[6] Wikipedia; Yin and Yang https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yin_and_yang

[7] Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories; Square Enix; 2004. 

[chumpmagump]

Okeyyyy finally answered more

33. Approximately 30 in my eyes lmao

34. Not really

35. Physical touch

36. Hmm.. no actually. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone that I thought was similar to me. That might be nice , maybe I’ve missed all the opportunities too because they’re just as withdrawn as me lmao

37. I believe so

38. Hmm.. in many ways yeah. I’ve achieved a lot of things past me would be proud of, if not more than I would have expected. In other ways it’s been about the same until recent so I have to prove her right

39. A physical and mentally healthy body, peace with living and dying, the ability to live presently and savour every moment, a love that makes up for all the horrible attachment I had as a child. Someone where I learn what healthy love is and feels like. Something that isn’t toxic or abusive.

40. That’s subjective to each person, everyone has light and goodness in them, it’s just about nurturing that part to help it grow. I think I have good ethics at heart but my ego gets in the way of being completely pure.

41. Connection. People that unconditionally love to talk to me, be in my presence, laugh with me, be silly, validate each other’s feelings and life stories, meaningful connection that’s it really.

42. Hmm

43. I write sometimes.., I should write more often but I don’t force it so it comes when I feel the need to

44.I try my hardest not to tell blatant lies, I skirt around the truth sometimes to protect people’s feelings and dignity.

45. That would be nice.. it use to be very important to me to be remembered. I would think about what people would say. I think genuinely just someone that really no ones knows completely but what they do know is someone that was always trying to move in some direction even if it were backward at times but feeling really stuck. A symbol for someone who has CPTSD but still managed to make themselves a person that is independent and genuinely interested in learning how to recover, thrive and teach others the same.

46. Man I have no idea I hope world peace is possible

47. I think suffering is part of it , you have to experience the full range of emotions and enegeries. The positive and negative to know you’re alive. If you can get yourself to a state of constant observation and disidenify with the particular emotion , then you can attain enlightenment which is also the goal

48, I’m a lot more free than others as a white cis. Societies constraints will mean we will never all be completely free from systemic pressures.

49. Oh definitely. I go hard and get perfectionistic and if it’s not good enough I obsess and obsess sometimes. I have to be careful with that because than I’m likely to give up since the obsession makes me illl. Striking a balance is key but carries guilt with it for me.

50. I expect companionship. I expect them to be forthcoming with things that bother them and to genuinely listen without passive aggression when I bring up something that bothers me. I expect communication that expresses my meaning to the person & that I feel safe enough to express my thoughts and feelings without it being denied. I expect sexual safety and the other person checking in with me & not treating me like an object but more of a privilege to be sharing that energy, I expect a lot of laughter & fun & matching that energy where need be. I expect myself to do all the same. Maybe I expect too much I just know I expected fuck all before

[massistocchifontana]

The hunting of men… The dissolution of our past through the recognition of our mistakes

The hunting of men… The dissolution of our past through the recognition of our mistakes

I am a man. I am a man who strives to be better every single day but am haunted by my own personal reflection that I have done wrong in the past. Like every man going through their various stages of growth there are moments when we are completely oblivious to why we act in the manner we do and we can analyse these experiences to the point where there is a psychological explanation for every single facet of our behaviour. I do not believe that this is the problem because like every man or woman there are stages of development and growth that we go through and this is essentially a process to become more conscious and aware and steering towards becoming more self-actualised individuals.

In other words, we do not come out the womb with this experiential knowledge of how we should be. This is down to life and the experiences that we encounter along the way. There is no one blueprint to how men should be and this phase we are in currently is highlighting an interesting shift that more and more men are becoming aware of themselves and the mistakes they have made. 

 Let me rephrase that: Men are becoming more aware of the bad choices they have made!

 The problem with experience is that there is no master reset like a video game. We only have one shot at the experience itself and once we make a particular choice, we have to follow through with the chain reaction that follows. No matter how quickly or delayed we may be in recognising these bad choices, once made they will be imprinted in our minds forever.

 Men have a different relationship with shame and what I mean by this is that we all have encountered shame throughout our lives but the manner in which we bottle it up and hide it away is very unique to us. We almost dissociate from the actual feeling itself and we will continue to find other avenues of achievement to mask the real knowledge that we carry this shame within us. It is only through very deep self-reflection that we realise how we have attached this shame to something enjoyable like sex or masturbation or work and other achievements. We have an uncanny ability to mask this shame.

 Regardless of how many years of therapy I have done for myself and the continual personal development that I embark on daily, there will always be a conscious connection with the shame I feel towards the bad decisions I’ve made in the past. This is not to say that I am a monster or a villain like most men, but the manner in which I have carried myself in the past in relation to anyone or anything still holds an imprint deep in my soul when I compare who I was to who I am today. I believe this is a common feeling for many men, where you will find a common statement heard “can we move past this please”. 

 This is because there is shame there, and we feel it. But unfortunately we do not have a machine that can quantify how much shame we are feeling to visually illustrate to the person in front of us that we are feeling remorse and are deeply pained by the way we have been. 

 Most if not all of us going through this process of development can recognise that with hindsight we have probably behaved badly according to the current blueprint of how men should be and we are quickly labelled with the toxic masculinity title, or the narcissistic brand. I too am culpable of using these titles for men but I do so with knowledge of their history and most importantly the desire within them to change. Not using them in a manner to squash the individuals who are doing the work.

 I truly sit here struggling to write this piece because it feels that there is a 50/50 split at the moment between men. This split is being maintained by very regressed men who do not want to change because their ecosystem they find themselves in wont challenge them enough to make the necessary changes, so why should they.

 There is no immediate gratification in making these changes as a man, especially if it means that we have to change to suite others around us. There is not allure to being more evolved and being more conscious because it is too healthy and not charged enough. There is no draw to making love over fucking like animals where we can appease our ego drive in its fullest. Immersion into our conscious self takes time and patience and perseverance but is not easy.

 So the question is why should we change as men?

 The simple answer is one of respect. The man who does not try to become more within himself so outwardly he can serve more is a man who has no respect for himself and the world he lives in. There is no denying that men want sex all the time but this doesn’t mean that the manner in which we go about getting it isn’t sullied. We need to become more reflective of the kind of man we want to be and make the changes necessary to achieve that self-image. Because we have a choice in most things, the moment we become more conscious in our ability to make changes, this is where our responsibility towards our self and others becomes paramount and we have to honour ourselves in the quest to achieve this.

 We are given a loose blueprint of how to be as men. This blueprint is constantly changing but can be seen to slowly shift towards a better model, but unfortunately still maintains very bad traits. The blueprint that has been bestowed on us may not be a conscious one in its acceptance and its seldom a case where someone has sat us down and explained this is what is expected from us being men. Instead most of our learning is achieved through the collective of men we engage with. It is only within recent years that we can say that men’s groups are becoming more popular and we now have a platform to face up to the varied styles of masculinity and most importantly the shame we harbour. 

 The importance to change, is not about change but growth. This may be a clever term for the same thing, but I truly view this process as one of growth. Growing inwards towards a more connected and authentic self, grounded in the knowledge that everything we do as men can be founded on a principle of love and kindness. The knowledge that we can still be “manly” and love motorcycles and extreme sports and bars and pubs and all the things that stereotypically have been labelled as things men like to do. BUT, it too means that we have a choice in how we relate and show love in our fullness because in essence we as men want to show this love but struggle with “getting it right”.

 The realm of relating and being exposed in our vulnerability is not an easy task for anyone especially men. Unless you’ve been fortunate enough to have these feelings normalised we run risk of not knowing how to navigate the space and in general the masculine mindset is about “getting things right”. This is usually why one of the most common problems in relationships is the man trying to fix the woman’s problem rather than knowing that holding the emotional space will be more effective over the long run in comparison to finding a solution. 

 We run an additional risk here and that is not knowing against who we should model ourselves on because there is such a variety of masculinity available. We have the tendency to model ourselves against men who are high achievers and unfortunately these are the men that will more often than not have a voice and be bold and stereotypically “alpha”.

 We confuse achievement and success with acquisition and forcefulness. We confuse dismissal of the other with knowing how to navigate a debate linguistically and be present in doing so. We confuse our partners emotional turmoil as a task to fix and avoid learning to sit with discomfort. We confuse what society says about emotional expression as a means to express our anger towards someone rather than processing it in a manner that is constructive for you and the relationship you are in. We confuse superficial infatuation with deep love because we are mostly not able to navigate the full range of emotions. Ultimately this list of critique can go on and on, and we can point out all the flaws that men have.

 The one thing we must not do is shut down a man who is really trying to change and be better. Because the harsh reality for many men out there is that we are afraid or have been afraid that our shame is provoked through an altercation or interacting with someone and instead of the actual work we’ve done being the primary focus we are hunted for being men on the backs of other unevolved men and on the backs of our forefathers and the mistakes they have made. 

 Like most atrocities in history, there is a collective reparation that needs to be spoken about and implemented. This doesn’t mean that there should be more segregation between men and women but really a coming together where we can celebrate ones self-actualisation and recognition that we are changing. This is not an easy process for people going through it and especially for the people who have experienced an unevolved man.

 My hope is that the more and more men coming together to explore and understand the range of masculinities that are out there are also understanding that there are other more effective ways of being. More effective and fulfilling processes to challenge our ego and shadow and ultimately get to grips with who we are as men. 

 It is essentially brave for men to embark on this, but it is also incredibly courageous for women to accept and trust this process so that we can evolve forward. 

 Via Con Dios 

[drsilverfish]

Nine Minutes to Midnight

5x21 Two Minutes to Midnight

Nine episodes to beat God, and fifteen years since Kripke pitched his original On The Road fan-fiction meets folk horror. 

I’ve had a lot of fun in this little corner of Tumblr SPN fandom, over the eight years I’ve been here. I arrived as a newbie in 2012, and people already here were kind to me. I’ve seen people come and go, get disillusioned with SPN and move onto new fandoms, or arrive latterly into this one, brimming with excitement. 

This is a weird social media platform, and I doubt it will be around forever, as one of its joys is how singularly bad it has been at integrating advertising.   

Some of my favourite things here have been;

Comments in the tags, often funny, thinky, joyful - love this element of Tumblr.

Coda fic - this short-form story-style, which leaps into the fan-fiction gaps, loud silences and lacunae of the text - what a joy.

All the different roles people take on in fandom, as labours of love - gif makers, fic and meta writers, artists, vidders, archivists, signal-boosters, enthusiastic readers and beta-readers, art-lovers, networkers, collaborators, question-askers and answerers, and participants of all kinds (introvert and extrovert).

Completely unrelated to SPN, posts which are full of puns and hilarity, from “lik the bred” to Brits vs Americans on the subject of drinking tea. I still love Tumblr’s collective sense of humour; it’s witty and charming. 

The language of gifs; those delightful comtemporary hieroglyphics of emotive expression.

The diversity - English is the shared language, but gradually it’s apparent that despite US dominance of the site, there are people from all over the world here, whose native tongues range from Russian to Italian to Brazilian Portuguese.

The collective meta experience - sharing “live” textual analysis has been huge fun. Viewing a text in a hive mind this way always shows you something you’d have missed on your own. It’s like holding up a crystal to a thousand lights and watching all the different refractions happening at once.

Again, not SPN specific, but experts in various subjects, from Egyptology to Medieval History suddenly emerging from the depths to provide a passionate and erudite exposition on their topic. Often prefaced with, “My time has come...”   

Fandom has a dark side. It can be a coping mechansim, for many, in a healthy or less healthy way. There are unfortunately, always the formation of various “in-groups” and “out-groups”, ship wars, harrassment (of other fans, cast and crew), entitlement, and wild unpleasantness. And, that scourge of the internet in general; performative outrage (otherwise known as the outrage economy) which turns up the dial on provocative statements and negative emotion because that acts as catnip for engagement. A lot of people act out their shadow-selves online, projecting their own internal stuff onto others, from behind the screen.    

Almost no media texts get to run as long as SPN (fifteen years) but my first fandom was (and is) Doctor Who and that has been going for over 50. It has some absolutely horrendously toxic spaces and places online, and many of pure joy. My advice is - find the joy.  

Stories, by inviting us into the shoes of others, teach us at their (and our) best, the invaluable gift of empathy.

Take care of yourselves. Endings are hard, no doubt.

Special shout-out to fellow LGBTQ+ fans - hold onto your hearts. 

It can be complicated loving a story telling its queer (romantic/ erotic) love story implicitly (i.e. in subtext). 

Don’t forget (as I always say in my tags) subtext is part of narrative - meaning, the totality of a text contains its explicit and implicit elements; its text and its subtext, just like Metatron (aka Robbie T) told us in 9x18 Metafiction. 

I wasn’t in the fandom myself, here on Tumblr, but I saw some of the fall-out from BBC Sherlock S4, and it was particularly distressing to see so many young LGBTQ+ fans feeling deeply hurt and even suicidal, because they’d read all the (extensively crafted) queer subtext in that show as a promise which would, inevitably, lead to an unequivocal queer “coming out” for John and Sherlock.

Those queer fans weren’t “self-queerbaiting” - they were just reading the totality of the text. And after all, why not read the subtext that way, as a promise? Being of a generation who’d already gotten to see many explicitly out queer characters on-screen; why not dare to imagine the subtext was a slow-burn romance with an inevitable “out” climax? Especially because Mark Gatiss (one of the writers) is out and queer himself, young queer fans were even more certain that his Sherlock would be the first “out” queer Sherlock on-screen (The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, 1970, which Gatiss is on record as being a fan of, had previously queer-coded Holmes, as indeed does Downey’s version, in Sherlock, 2009, and Sherlock 2: A Game of Shadows, 2011.)

Of course, the corporate and production politics were no doubt complex behind the scenes at the BBC, and Gatiss himself (apparently) saw things differently saying (in an interview in Oct 2010):

“No, I don’t think I’d make a kind of gay programme. It’s much more interesting when it’s not about a single issue. And equally, I find flirting with the homoeroticism in Sherlock much more interesting.” (Buzz Magazine Oct 2010: p10).

All of which, is why I’ve been adding a disclaimer to my readings of SPN’s queer subtext for a while now - namely, that reading the subtext doesn’t promise a rainbow of obviousness at the end. 

As I said, take care of your hearts, lovelies.   

Perhaps we shouldn’t need the narrative closet any longer. 

But, we are walking between worlds, an old one and a new, both of them currently existing simultaneously, especially in a globalised world. 

Queer audience fractions are, generally, more attuned to queer subtext, because it often uses codes derived from queer culture (although reading cinematic/ television subtext of all kinds is a learned skill, and no one is born with text-reading gaydar). So, whilst queer subtext may appear “loud” to some audience fractions, it remains invisible to others. That is, historically, by design, because, whilst “out” queer characters have gradually emerged on-screen since the 1950s [and the end of the Hays Code in Hollywood] queerness was, and still is (depending on where one is in the world) subject to legal penalty, state censorship or corporate production censorship.

A contemporary kind of state censorship is e.g. in China, where overt LGBTQ+ themes and characters cannot be depicted on-screen (hence, the queer subtext in The Untamed). A contemporary commodity kind of censorship might be e.g. notes from the Network, or TPTB at Marvel Studios with an eye on box-office. Queer subtext has the ability to slip past the censors, or be tolerated by them; because, now you see it/ now you don’t. A character with a straight “surface” reading and a queer subtextual one may (depending on the film/ TV product and its market etc,) be seen to pose less risk as a commercial product, whilst being able to appeal to different audience fractions simultaneously. For example, Captain Marvel  (2019) and, as above, BBC Sherlock (2010-2017).

And yes, it’s complicated, because in the midst of that still extant censorship, which queer writers and other creatives on set may indeed be trying to work around by using queer subtext, we can see another world is possible. More out queer stories are being told. And, although we may love to see implicit queerness rather than no queerness at all, and indeed although implicit queerness may (arguably) have the freedom (still) to tell less boundaried or stereotyped stories than explicit queerness (with powerful effects on the audience fractions, both queer and straight, who do “see” it) we can’t deny that it does suit corporate entities, in some cases, to be able to appeal to a dual audience without the perceived “risk” of “outness”.  A form of “queer-sploitation” which leads to the charge of “queer-baiting”.

The issue is, perhaps, particularly one surrounding male hero characters in Hollywood (and here in the UK) a) because “queer stories” are (still) often, not seen as likely to have universal appeal for broader audiences, whereas “straight stories” are not framed as “straight stories” but as universal ones, and b) because of the persistence of the prejudiced belief in particular that “queerness” undermines masculinity, especially “heroic” masculinity (here we have diverged markedly from the ancient Greeks). It’s somewhat different for female characters, but that’s another post. Fantasy, in the on-screen medium (if less so in fiction or comics) appears to be a more regressive genre than, say, comedy, in terms of the depiction of “out” queer central (rather than side) characters, with the exception of the Wachowskis’ Sense8 (2015-18) in which pretty much everyone is queer. I know there’s Ruby’ Rose’s Batwoman (2019- ) which I haven’t had a chance to check out yet, and we’ve got some queer Marvel (side) heroes upcoming, apparently; Valkyrie in Thor: Love and Thunder and Phastos in The Eternals - let’s see how that goes.

Moreover, queer subtext doesn’t have an exact analogy i.e. a “straight subtext” equivalent. Yes, many films and TV shows imply romantic/ sexual tension and interest between M/ F (pre)couples before it is “confirmed” they’re into each other in the text. However, because straight is the default assumption, audiences may muse and disagree about the potential for a M/ F romance at the implicit stage (as they have done in SPN fandom re Sam/ Rowena) but they don’t ask - “Does this mean they might be straight ????” It is assumed. Queerness, on the other hand, in order to be widely recognised (rather than solely by the subtext-reading audience fraction) must “come out” in some manner, explicitly, in the text (I don’t mean graphically, but “beyond reasonable doubt”).  In other words, as painful as it is, we are not starting on a level playing field. It’s not fair, but it is the deal. 

That doesn’t mean we can’t love contemporary queer subtextual stories, just that it’s important to acknowledge it can be painful, for some, to do so, and just as it’s important to acknowlege it’s OK to find them too painful to love, also (historical texts obviously operated under different circumstances). 

Queer audiences are not homogenous. We can, and do, see things differently from one another, perhaps particularly across generations. 

It is the case however, I think, that the structuring of a story by the narrative closet, as SPN has been structured by the narrative closet (up to this point, mid S15) (by which I mean its queerness is transparent to some, invisible to others, by design) cannot help but remind many queer audience members of our own struggles with the real world closet. Indeed that may make the story attractive, or unattractive, to different folk. 

Incidentally, which is why I avoid it, I think the “it’s canon”/ “it’s subtext” debate is a false dichotomy and a bit confusing, as there are two, perfectly legitimate (within their own terms) definitions of “canon”. In the fandom sense, where “canon” means a romantic/ erotic pairing explicitly confirmed in the text, Destiel (meaning romantic/ erotic orientation between Dean and Cas) is not “canon” (as at 15x11). It is implied. Of course, it is explicit text that they care deeply for one another - “You’re my family. I love you, I love all of you” (12x12 Stuck in the Middle with You), “You’re my best friend” (15x09 The Trap). The exact nature of that relationship remains, however, deliberately, ambiguous. 

In the literary sense, in which “canon” means “the official body of work”, SPN’s official body of work contains a metric tonne of implicit romantic/ erotic Dean/ Cas, so, it is part of the SPN “canon” in that sense - “subtextual canon” if you like. Although, of course, because implied, therefore open to interpretation.... deliberately transparent to some and invisible to others.

Despite all this complexity, and, indeed despite other elements of the SPN narrative which I have struggled with personally (the early seasons’ misogyny is off the charts sometimes, the brutally insensitive manner of Charlie’s death) I have loved this story, Supernatural, truly, madly, deeply, in large part because of its (implicit) queerness. And for may other reasons additionally, from its folkloric beginnings and dark initial cinematographic palette, to its melodrama, to its, eventual, Ourboros structure, and its Jungian alchemical journey marrying the cosmic to the earthly. 

Reading the show without the queer subtext remains possible, but oh boy is that analogous to only considering the above sea-level portion of an iceberg.  

I would prefer a rainbow of obviousness at The EndTM, but I don’t expect one. What I expect is continued, deliberate, ambiguity. Something I am sure we will be debating the ethics of, long after. 

I could be wrong :-). But I am taking my own advice, and taking care of my heart.      

For now, it’s nine minutes to midnight; let’s see how the story ends.

And afterwards, however the chips may fall, the characters will (as this most meta-narrative of seasons has been busy telling us) be set free of “Chuck’s” control. They will belong to us, in a thousand thousand fan-works, for as long as we care to keep on loving them.             

[microsuedemouse]

hhhhhhhhhhhhhwoof I hate fandom/ship drama

anyway I’ve been thinking about how. there is nothing, inherently wrong,, with being interested in exploring ships (or even non-romantic/non-sexual character dynamics!) that are unhealthy in-universe.

here’s something: there is value in recognising that a ship is unhealthy or toxic or abusive or whichever other descriptor you feel fits best. (I am going to be using ‘unhealthy’ as my umbrella word in this post; obviously it’s an understatement to call an abusive relationship ‘unhealthy’ but it’s still accurate and it encompasses the variety of things I’m talking about.) there is value in taking that as fact and acknowledging such in whatever exploratory work you may choose to create or engage in.

I wanna take a second here to clarify part of what I mean: it is not inherently wrong to enjoy an unhealthy ship, and you are not required to defend a ship as healthy/‘not abusive’ in order to justify your interest in it. this is a very weird result, imo, of purity culture and virtue signalling. when you have a healthy understanding of the difference between fiction and reality, and a recognition of what’s acceptable in reality and what’s compelling in fiction, it’s actually very worth exploring what interests and engages you about Fictional Bad Things.

you know that phenomenon where people love villains? a lot of discourse around purity culture naturally leads to the conclusion: “it is wrong to like villains.” most of us are capable of recognising that this... doesn’t make sense. because obviously, we aren’t - or at least, the great majority of us aren’t - claiming that we would like and support this person in reality, or that we would be entirely comfortable with the deeds they commit if those deeds took place in reality. we’re saying that the character appeals to and compels us for some reason, within fiction. that’s a different thing - and it’s usually a sign of good writing! it’s very worth exploring that experience: what about this villain makes you like them so much? what about them makes them relatable to you, or sympathetic to you, or perhaps even cathartic to you? these kinds of questions can offer both entertainment value and, possibly, some new insights into yourself as a person. those insights might turn out to be interesting and meaningless, or they might provide you with new ways to express yourself, or they might even offer you a new avenue for growth.

(moral purity often also extends to the conclusion ‘you shouldn’t enjoy stories in which the main character suffers, because it’s wrong to enjoy someone’s pain.’ we all know this makes no sense, because that includes most stories. a major reason human beings tell stories is to share in the emotional journey of a protagonist ultimately overcoming great obstacles. but anyway, this is a whole other issue, really.)

what I’m getting at is - the same can apply to ships. there are a few approaches to unhealthy ships, and I wouldn’t go so far as to say they stand on equal moral ground, but there are a variety of ways you might be able to explore them without it making you an inherently evil person, or whatever. it’s also worth noting that while, obviously, I’m expressing here what aligns with my moral position and encouraging you to think similarly - but, I also encourage you to think critically about your own moral positions. decide what is comfortable for you, and what feels right to engage with. it’s fine and it’s normal to draw your own lines in the sand and say, this is where the range of acceptable ends for me. I won’t support or engage with what’s on the other side.

to give a quick overview of some approaches I’m not as comfortable with: sometimes you’ll find a writer/artist/other fan who likes to depict a ship as totally healthy in a way that can only be described as out-of-character. sometimes this seems to be a denial of the actuality of the ship; I don’t like that so much because it’s often a refusal to acknowledge that their canonical behaviour/dynamic is bad. other times this is depicted as a sort of AU; this doesn’t bother me quite as much personally (often depending on what the writer’s overall attitudes seem to be) but it’s also often less interesting to me. in my experience, this is usually very self-indulgent work and has a lot more to do with the writer’s own experiences than with canon itself. which is fair, honestly. sometimes that’s cathartic for the writer and that’s enough - I don’t have to be into it personally to respect it.

another thing that crops up that’s kind of worrisome, imo, is when a writer/artist/etc. depicts the ship as in-character but denies that it’s unhealthy. now, in fairness, if you’re simply reading a fic or looking at a piece of fanart or something, you cannot always tell exactly how the creator thinks the ship actually operates. not everyone is always going to include a disclaimer that says ‘hey I don’t think this is actually Good.’ so try not to immediately ascribe intent to the writer/etc. unless you’ve seen them state outright somewhere: this isn’t abuse, it’s just cute! (or whatever it is they’re seeing.) at that point it is worth being concerned about what this person thinks constitutes a healthy relationship, and if you don’t feel good about supporting their work that’s entirely fair.

HOWEVER. there are also other approaches. two in particular stand out to me that I think are worth discussing. one is simply exploring the possibilities of an unhealthy relationship, with total acknowledgement of its flaws. one unhealthy dynamic that I admittedly find really engaging a lot of the time? ‘these two characters are Very obsessed with each other, and it sure ain’t healthy psychologically, but it’s definitely mutual.’ I love that shit. gimme a couple of unhinged, incredibly codependent pieces of shit, and you have my full attention. particularly if they’re on equal footing - if they’re damaging one another, it’s reciprocal, or at very least they’re both getting exactly what they want out of the relationship. obviously this would not be a dynamic I could support in real life! that’s terrible and I don’t want anyone to go through it! but in fictional characters it can be fascinating to explore. and if the content is going to upset or trigger certain fans: that’s why we use tags and warnings. AO3, where many of us go for a huge amount of our fan content, literally has a whole system in place for precisely this purpose: so we can let each other know what’s inside, and make informed choices about what we want to consume.

the other common approach is the redemption arc. it’s always gonna be up to you which characters you consider redeemable and which ones you don’t - that’s okay. again, it’s your choice what content to engage and what to pass over. but as people we’re traditionally very fond of the redemption arc story, and as fans we love to create the redemption arcs our favourite characters don’t get to live out in canon. because we love something about the character and want to explore them further. like I said earlier, that in itself is worth giving some thought to. sometimes we’ll even end up writing partial redemptions: this character goes from totally reprehensible to kind of appealingly awful. the ship goes from abusive to a much more regular level of fucked up. that can definitely be an interesting story in itself, and it’s okay if you want to explore it.

the main thing is that you always exercise your ability to think critically about what you’re consuming and why you like it - which, honestly, you should be trying to do all of the time, anyway. be clear about what you do and don’t endorse, about what your actual values are, about where you draw the line. (as both an example and a disclaimer, since I know I still have followers from A Certain Fandom where this cropped up a lot before I mostly dipped: one line that I personally draw, and always will, is at ships involving an adult and a literal child. I am not comfortable with exploring this even in the hypothetical space of fan content. it is too objectionable to be compelling.)

go forth. explore your unhealthy ships and shitty favourite characters. experiment and learn why they compel you. write properly-labelled fanfic about them hurting each other and loving it. just remember that everyone has different boundaries, and that fiction and reality are very separate spaces. acknowledge that what you’re enjoying is not inherently right or acceptable in real life just because you enjoy it in a story, and it doesn’t have to be. if you’re a content creator, consider portraying these things in such a way that your audience is well aware of your position on the matter, in order to help them also understand what is and isn’t healthy. be a ruthless writer and a kind person, and you’ll do just fine.

[gilbirda]

What if the wolves arrive a little too late? What If Laurent did bite her? Bella fulfils her dream of being a vampire, but it quickly turns into a nightmare as she finds herself alone, hungry and heartbroken; with no one by her side to help her and guide her. When there's nothing left for her in this world, would she make the same decisions as if she were surrounded by her loved ones?

[Read on AO3][Read on FF.net]

I perfectly remember that day as if it were yesterday. Obviously, with this new vampire mind, I was able to remember every drop of rain that hit my face since I regained consciousness after burning for an eternity, every smell that assailed my nose, and even the taste of the first breath in this new life.

I remember the pain that hit me when I tried to get back my recent memories, like a sword stuck in the middle of my chest. My emotions moved to the front of my mind, amplified by this new body full of new sensations. The pain of rejection, helplessness at seeing me so lonely and despair knowing that everything that I had lived, that fantastic dream of just few months, was gone and never coming back.

Or so I thought.

When Laurent appeared in the meadow I never thought it would come to this. I remember with vivid clarity the voice of Edward’s illusion yelling at me to distract him and tell any lie, but silly me I didn’t do it on time. He lunged at me with those eyes, dark crimson from hunger, and I could barely register the pain of his fangs as almost immediately a new agony spread throughout my body. I did not register either when someone pushed away the body of the vampire feasting on my blood, nor heard the roars and howls filled with fury.

And that’s how I discovered that my best friend is a werewolf. The same day I was exiled from Forks, the day I woke up after what they said were three days of infinite hell, Jacob held my cold hand between his burning ones and looked at my eyes with a mix of feelings in theirs. He said, "You know, Bells? I really loved you, but now ... now that’s not possible.”

And just like that, everything I knew crumbled down before my very eyes. I could not mourn, I could not scream. I could not even move when I was left with my own means on the edge of the small town of Forks. I watched them go back to the reservation, turned into these huge animals designed to kill my kind, realizing that I’ve been spared only because of Jacob, and that I would never see my friend and my Sun again.

***

Living in the streets was relatively easy when you're a vampire. Never getting hungry, never feeling cold or never having to sleep. Eventually I stopped caring about my clothes or being covered with dirt or wandering aimlessly through the streets or not having a place to return to. I had no money, but I did not need anything, I only needed blood.

At first I refused to move from my refuge in the depths of a forest for fear of finding a human, but the thirst was so strange to me that it instinctively made me move. Before I knew it in my arms was the empty body of a hiker who had adventured too deep into the woods and had to be too close to a newborn vampire.

I wanted to die. I spent even more time locked away from humanity, remembering again and again the family of vegetarians who I still loved despite everything, thinking that he did not want me to become a monster. I'm still proud to have resisted the temptation the weeks that I did until my body simply disconnected from my mind and began acting on its own. I had to eat, it was just that, and the blood of the hiker was just too delicious. I could not go back to animals.

But that did not make me a monster. I was the same person, if this empty shell could be called person, no matter whose blood I drank. I did not enjoy the suffering of my victims, or found any fun in their terror or seeked entertainment that gave life to my long existence. Nor it sickened me. Simply it was what it was. I needed to eat, they were there within my reach. They did not even know what was that had happened to them as they never saw me coming.

Still, perhaps in honor of my lost love, I carefully chose my victims among the worst of worst kind, those who would die anyway or should not have been born, and I had to limit my thirst and keep it under a tight control.

And so in a slow succession of week after week, year after year, I rolled with my empty existence to the point where I forgot the sound of my voice, how my parents were called or why it had come to become this.

And you may ask, after so many years, have I not met any of my species? It is true that there are not many in the world, but pure statistics say that some should have crossed my path.

The truth is that I often saw several vampires, and at close distance. That was how I discovered I had the uncanny ability to be completely invisible. Not physically, but even if I were close enough for them to detect my scent, they never managed to find me, even taking them in circles until desisting and letting go. If I did not move and I focused enough, they couldn’t even see me. As if the place where I was wasn’t at all interesting, and when it seemed that they were going to look at me they turned to look elsewhere.

And so I never had any problems with other vampires; and if I didn’t want to be seen by humans I simply had to think about it and I became completely "invisible" to their low quality senses.

***

It was precisely that quirk what saved me from certain death.

The Volturi. I had the opportunity to watch firsthand how deadly they could be and the speed with which they came searching for me. If I did not have this power surely I would have died many years ago.

You see, when I felt strong enough to control my thirst to be among humans, I made the mistake of returning to Forks. Nostalgia, perhaps? I don’t know, I just knew I wanted to come back and see everything once again, have that closure that I was denied; and, silly me, to see if I would finally stop thinking so much of the months I spent in the town and the family of vampires that I met there. Obviously it was bad decision.

My father was destroyed. When I went to see him before going to the town, I looked through the window and there I saw him, surrounded by empty pizza boxes and empty beer bottles. It was about two in the afternoon and he should be at the police station, but was instead on the living room couch with a bottle in his hand and looking the TV screen without really watching what was on. In his hand, a sign of "Have you seen this girl?" with a photograph of my human version. He was incredibly aged even though I had not been gone for more than a few months, and I just knew that the gray hairs that had populated his head were completely my fault.

I could not look anymore and went to the school I never thought I’d yearn to see. I watched from the woods that surrounded it how everyone was going from one class to another and moved around campus, books in their hands and their faces full of concern for a lot of issues that were so alien to me now. I looked face by face for a known one but didn’t recognize any. My old friends had to be here, they were approaching final exams and graduation and they shouldn’t be allowed to skip class. As the minutes passed and all students were leaving after the last class, I analyzed every face feeling butterflies in my stomach. Perhaps I had forgotten them all? Forgotten Angela?

And I saw the face that I less wanted to see and, as if I really were so jinxed, she realized that I was watching and turned to see me. I did not have to see those eyes or blond hair to know it was her because the cry she let no more than two seconds after would be able to make me feel sick to the stomach had I been alive.

Lauren.

“Look what we have here,” she said, getting those who did not turn by her shriek do so now. And I felt everyone's eyes on me, on my face, in my white skin, my clothes that I have not changed since Laurent attacked me. It could not escape. “Our beloved Isabella Swan! The prodigal daughter returns home, huh?” She started walking towards me and I could hear her slightly accelerated pulse calling me. Imperceptibly I swallowed the poison that was gathering in my mouth. “We’ve been very worried, Bella,” she spat my name in disgust, “Where have you been all this time?”

From the giggles of the girls who accompanied her I did not have to be a genius to realize that Lauren had been spreading all sorts of nasty rumors about me and my disappearance. A few more people turned to see what was happening and gradually saw the recognition shine on their faces, followed by a range of expressions from surprise to disgust, passing through amusement.

The situation was so like a high school soap opera I couldn’t even feel afraid of what this human was trying to do to me. Inside my body there was just bloodlust and she was already too close.

“Bella!” a new person approached. Angela. “Oh my God, you're alive! I can’t believe it!”

I moaned, scared. No no no. Please do not get near me, I chanted in my head. But she ran to me with the solid intention to hug me, pushing Lauren out of her way. She threw herself into my arms, remaining motionless when she felt my cold and hard as stone skin. If I had a pulse it would be at full speed by the anxiety I felt at that moment.

I shouldn’t have come here. Damn, I shouldn’t have.

I could feel all eyes on me, on my face and especially on my red eyes. I could almost hear their thoughts thinking that I was Bella, but at the same time I was not; that was really obvious by the way their expressions changed  the following seconds.

I turned my eyes to Angela and swallowed once again the poison that had gathered in my mouth, feeling my will fade whenever her blood hit the same spot on the skin of her neck.

“Bella,” she whispered, raising a hand to touch my face, her eyes roaming my new perfect and dangerous features. “What happened to you?”

“That she underwent surgery to look like her Edward” Lauren answered for me, followed by a chuckle from the people around her. Other people just watched, some feeling obviously uncomfortable after realising that I was not human by now. “I can not believe you've fallen so low, Bella. I knew your obsession was not normal, but this...”

“Is that's true?”

“I do not think so…”

“God, and she seemed responsible.”

“Bells,” the girl in my arms caught back my attention, her pulse quickening, probably feeling a instinctual fear that she surely could not explain. And I knew I could not escape anymore.

Lauren approached us and roughly pushed away my human friend to look at me more closely. I returned her defiant gaze, feeling the poison flowing uncontrollably with every sweet human heartbeat from the girl that was trying to humiliate in public. But how little I cared about that now. There was nothing to humiliate me for anymore and saying things about the Cullen wouldn’t have any effect in me. They were gone and I had been left behind and I think the message was very clear. I had accepted that in my days of isolation.

The blonde huffed and turned to look at his followers, telling them something that I could not register because when she raised her hand to grab my hair, the concentrated scent of her blood through the thin skin of the wrist hit me right in the nose .

And my mind disconnected from my body, driven by a bloodlust that I always felt, leaping from body to body and emptying them quickly before they knew what had hit them. When I was finally full, my eyes focused back and I saw that in my bloody hands lay, lifeless although with a remnant warth, the body of maybe my only friend in my previous human life; her face frozen in a grimace of terror, perhaps a cry, and the ripped skin of her neck in a rather animalistic bite.

***

I still remember my frightened face in the videos that roamed the Internet the following days. Students who were far enough away to escape the massacre recorded everything with their phones (I guess they wanted record Bella's reaction to Lauren’s provocations), and obviously that went to the news.

Until suddenly everyone pretended that nothing had happened, the initial alarm replaced by weather news and everything was blamed on an occultist group making sacrifices to Satan. No one mentioned the word "vampire" and in a couple of months the situation was forgotten. And the Volturi were obviously behind.

I saw them track me with the perfection of a clock, one by one killing the witnesses who were not willing to let it go as another strange thing in the town of Forks. I saw them in person when they almost caught me outside Seattle, a day after the slaughter, as I wiped off the blood on my clothes.

They weren’t able to find me thanks to my power, but their breaths on my neck was a memory I did not want to keep the rest of my life. From what I could understand from their conversation, one was a tracker, as was James, and it was getting on his nerves not being able to accurately locate my position more than a general area. They never gave up, and although over the decades they stopped looking, I know they were in the shadows waiting to come out to get me, and probably destroy me.

***

I looked away from the lifeless eyes of the person who was my dinner while I wiped with my tongue the remnants of blood from my fangs, listening intently. Few people adventured so close to the outskirts of city at this time of the morning, at least not so silently, as would someone who was drunk or high.

I cocked my head and dropped some junkie’s empty body at my feet, a shudder running through me at the taste of his contaminated blood, to crouch in case that these new vampires were coming for me. But they did not approach the city and the people, they went to the forest and up to mountain. How strange, I thought, no vampire in hunting mode (because at that speed and perfection of movements they were not playing) would go to ...

Oh, well. Vegetarians.

An imaginary cold sweat made me squirm. I had never crossed paths with vegetarian vampires before and the chances of it being them were painfully high. I did not know if I wanted to see them though, mainly because of the suddenness and little time to prepare. Because I was sure that I have forgiven them. It was not their fault that Laurent was in the meadow at that time and it was just my own stupidity that had brought me into the wolf's den, pun intended. The Cullen had made the decision that best ensured the survival of the group and now I could see the logic in that. That’s why I had buried my feelings as deeply as possible and tried to rebuild my life all these years, as promised.

But, was I going to try to approach? With my power I wasn’t sure if they’d find me anyway and I would feel like a coward if I tried to hide and escape or wait for them to leave, especially when on my part there was no hostility.

I glanced at the dry body at my feet and sighed. While at this point I do not know if there was any hostility ... I did not hunt like them and it would cause some tension, I was sure. They would ask questions, try to change my way of life ... But  I do not think they’d reaccept me, especially if they knew that I am the most wanted vampire by the Volturi despite nearly hundred years from incident in Forks, and they could attack the family if the kings thought they were associated with me.

I sighed again, looking at the forest.

***

A couple of hours later, when I had buried my victim and had changed my clothes to something more suitable to wear, I went to track down the vampires I detected before. First I could hear and then finally I could see them pounce on a group of deer that did not know who attacked them.

Completely clean clothes and not a single spot of blood or a single hair out of place, Emmet, Rosalie and Carlisle were cleaned any stain on the lips as they stood on the clearing without knowing that I was watching them. I sighed mentally, it was now or never.

I left my hideout making my steps sound heavier and deliberately raised my arms to make me less of a threat. I've waited for them to finish hunting for a reason.

“Who's there -!?” Yelled the blonde turning to face me, her body turning to stone when she recognized me.

“What-” Emmet now turned.

I set my eyes on Carlisle when he finally looked at me, trying to make as if the surprise and horror that crossed his eyes did not affect me; as if the small icy dagger dug into my heart did not exist when they went into a defensive stance; or as if I didn’t feel my stomach turn itself out when they did not relax even though recognition shone in their eyes.

“Bella,” Emmet whispered, his face full of confusion. He looked at Carlisle not really knowing what to do in this situation.

“Oh my God,” Rosalie brought her hands to her mouth, “Edward will have a stroke.”

“Carlisle, what do we do?”

“Hm ....” he said, deep in thought.

I remained impassive as they deliberated, my gaze hovering between the three figures and my body still as a stone, as I was used to be. This was going to happen sooner or later and I was somehow grateful that these three have been those who were hunting when I found them.

“Bella, are you coming home with us?” I came back to reality and looked at him with all the force of my red eyes. I tried not to register the face he made at them.

I nodded silently without bothering to smile.

***

I still had not opened my mouth when I saw the house that so painfully reminded me of the one I knew in Forks and I wondered for a moment how many houses had the family around the world.

“Oh ...It’s good that he’s not at home,” whispered Carlisle and I immediately knew who he meant.

At the door Esme was waiting with her hand on her chest and the most serious face I have ever seen in her. I glanced past her to see what was behind. Alice was waiting for us in Jasper’s arms, sitting on the couch and staring at the horizon with an empty face transforming her perfect features into those of a doll. I set my eyes on Jasper when he got up into a defensive pose.

I cocked my head going over his scars with my eyes, on his beautiful golden eyes, remembering the details of his difficulty adapting to the vegetarian lifestyle. Had he finally gotten the hang of it? I smiled cautiously wishing things with Jasper about our past were less strained.

“What happened? What is she doing here?” hissed the blond, one hand hovering near Alice.

“Jazz …” Esme put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at me apologetically.

“No offence taken,” I finally spoke with my little used but beautiful voice, “is a normal reaction.”

“Bella, how is it that you are ... alive” said Alice when she got out of the trance. She looked about to cry. And I knew that she wasn’t just asking about my life status.

“How long …?” Carlisle sat in the chair beside me.

“Oh, Bella. What happened to you?” Esme dropped on the armrest of the couch where her husband sat.

I looked around observing every little detail of the great room, recognizing a couple of objects and giving myself unnecessary nostalgia. I lowered my eyes to Carlisle and Esme, Emmett, Jasper and Rosalie, Alice's horrified eyes. I could almost see the thoughts going full speed on her head.

“Sometimes, although we think that a situation is over and done with, problems do come back,” I said finally letting myself go down my memories of that afternoon when Bella Swan died. “Even if James was more than dead, Victoria and Laurent were hovering too close to Forks, waiting.”

“Oh no,” Esme gasped, one hand on her mouth. I nodded and smiled softly.

“She wanted revenge and was trying to figure out the best plan to get to me. She recruited Laurent, who had given up your lifestyle, and was around Forks those days. I found him by chance and he was too hungry to wait for her.” My smile turned slightly downwards at the memory.

And then I explained what had happened to me since then, my power, my current diet, Forks’ incident and why I had decided to come and see them after so many years. Various stages of horror crossed their faces and eyes, and I really don’t know what part of my story had shocked them more. I no longer cared. The strong need for acceptance that I felt before when I was human had faded over the decades of a life where I had no one else beside me to impress, or a place to belong. I just got used to the fact that I had to be myself to survive.

It would hurt if they couldn’t accept this new “me”, but I wasn’t willing to change now to fit in the Cullens. Even if that was still an option.

When I finished my tale I stayed standing right there with a tiny smile, trying to ease the obvious tension in the air. I watched them pass a hand through their hair, sigh, look everywhere... except my red eyes.

I knew what they were thinking, of course I did. I didn’t need Edward hearing their thoughts to know what they were thinking. It only took looking into their golden eyes, the tension in the muscles under the skin of granite or slightly pursed lips in concentration to know the answers.

***

The cool evening breeze cradled my hair as I sat on a rock near the back door of the humble but enormous cabin-mansion that the Cullen had chosen as home in some well hidden place in the forest. I wondered vaguely if it was on purpose and if they did not want to make life in this city by being so far from humanity. Did the years change their modus operandi? Or it was just that this place was a temporary thing and they thought that having to leave early was enough reason to not be necessary to show a façade of normal human.

I sighed.

With my eyes closed I heard him before he reached the house, his steps being slightly lighter and faster than the others’, his sweet scent assailing my nose. I could recognize it anywhere even after all that happened, I thought sadly. I felt the slight tug on my chest where my dead heart was that had nothing to do with the pain that initially felt when I thought about him. I sighed, as this has brought me the opportunity to be sure that yes, I had forgiven everything that happened and that no, I didn’t want to give it another chance. Friendship, perhaps, but our “bond” broke so many years ago and over time the possibility of fixing it had faded into nothing.

I straightened up on my place, getting into a perfect Greek statue impersonation and waited for him to appear.

A slight breeze and the sound of his rapid breathing told me the time to open my red eyes, fixing them into his soft creamy golden ones, ignoring the grimace that he made for a second at the intensity of my ruby eyes, those of a freshly fed. His expression was a frightening mixture of horror, shock, disbelief and denial at what was happening, telling me everything I needed to know and confirm that for him things were different now. I vaguely wondered if he had met someone else or if he had somehow moved on; but knowing how things are as a vampire, as I do now, you never really "turn over a new leaf".

I got up with unnecessary slow, for our species, and smiled.

“Hello, Edward. It’s been a long time, isn’t it?”

***

“I don’t understand why he does this,” Alice mumbled while walking in circles in the corner, “I'm so sorry, Bella, I did not expect him to react that way.”

“Oh, honey …” Esme sobbed and collapsed in my arms. Carlisle was right behind her with pursed lips and lost in thought, one hand on his wife's waist, offering silent support.

I sighed for the thirty-fourth time that night.

I turned my eyes to Emmet and Rose sitting on the couch, her arms crossed and a frown on her face, him with an arm around the blonde's shoulder as if he were supporting her, but I knew better. He was holding her in place to stop her from killing someone. Jasper has followed Edward when he ran away.

I patted the weeping mother could that couldn’t cry and rested my head on hers, trying to reassure her that nothing was wrong and that I was okay.

“It’s okay, Esme. Somehow I am not surprised that he reacted that way. I remember that he was very much against my turning and that he was ... sickened of this lifestyle” everyone in the room knew that I was not referring only to being a vampire, but my chosen diet.

“But he you called monster” Esme said in my ear with a disbelieving voice. I closed my eyes tightening the embrace. I was not used to people worrying about me, much less in a motherly way, and I loved the detail. “He has no right to do so. When he gets home he will have to face a very angry Esme.”

Emmet looked at her with wide eyes and somehow I knew it would not be pretty. I smiled widely and pushed her gently out of the embrace to look at her eyes, giving her a slight squeeze on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Esme. For real. I'm fine.”

The other pursed her lips, upset by the situation but understanding what I meant, which I appreciated. After all that had happened I did not want to make this bigger than it was and if Edward wanted to behave so selfishly it was neither my right nor my responsibility to correct it. He was a big boy now.

I went to the couch to sit besides Emmet and slightly leaned on his shoulder, feeling his heavy breathing like a large animal, going through my thoughts about the brief but intense argument with the vampire that as soon as he saw my red eyes shouted that I "was not Bella". Or, at least, was not the same Bella who he had left in Forks.

He said that instead I had become ... something. A monster, I know he wanted to say, and I told him so. He did not deny it.

Still I do not know what hurt more, the expression on Edward’s face or the cowardice he proved to have when he turned around and run the other way. The worst part is that in my mind I was not able to match the image of the Edward I fell in love with back in Forks’ high school, so ethereal and perfect, and that always knew what to what to do; with this Edward, ironically more humane and unable to confront the ghosts of his past. And that had preferred to flee rather than accept that he was wrong those years ago, that I had changed to be someone else.

***

A few hours later and after many farewells, promises to meet again more often, having gotten a satellite cell phone and exchanged numbers with all of the Cullen, I was standing on the porch of their home saying goodbye with my hand and a big smile on the face. The weight that was on my chest had disappeared almost completely, a small thorn with the name of a certain vampire with coppery hair uncomfortably digging in my side.

I hadn’t taken two steps when I felt him coming towards me at full speed. I turned to see what he wanted from me, trying to make my face as emotionless as possible so it did not show how upset I was with him for calling me "monster".

“Bella…” he whispered, frowning. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. I remembered that gesture, how weird. “I'm sorry. That wasn’t an exemplary behavior.”

“Not much,” I simply answered. My honesty seemed to throw him back for a moment.

“I’ve really had a hard time accepting that ... Well, what you are.”

“A vampire. Yeah,” I said looking into the woods behind me. “Edward, I'll be frank with you. It’s been almost a hundred years and I have forgiven what happened. I've moved on, or what we call in this long existence ‘move on’,” he nodded in understanding, a sad glint in his gaze, “but those times are never coming back.”

I could see in his eyes that he knew where I wanted to go with those words and any speech he had prepared crumbled into dust leaving only bare emotions. He was confused, sad, and with the expression of a helpless child and for a second I felt like hugging him. He had spent at least fifty years of his life thinking that I was dead, I had to concede him that. And I would be just as confused if suddenly someone appeared at my house, a vampire whom I believed had died of old age as a human.

“I understand,” he took my hand gently, but there was nothing romantic about it then. “I regret even more deeply for having made this reunion so awkward. Please come back home more often. We've really missed you…”

“Will do,” I smiled and walked over to give him that hug we both needed.

And I could see the rays of a possible friendship starting from scratch. A less lonely life, without carrying my sorrow by myself or not having anywhere to go. At least there was a family of vegetarian vampires who would come to help without thinking twice, no matter what happened. And I would obviously do the same for them.

***

I blinked feeling that the lenses that Alice had given me were clouding my vision more and more. Argh! It was so uncomfortable.

But the need to blend in better with humans was greater since my red eyes did not go as unnoticed as the golden ones of the vegetarians and I could not focus on my power long enough to not rely on extra help to avoid being discovered.

Right now I was trying to buy new clothes without going crazy in the process and I haven’t been even fifteen minutes into the mall when the phone that the Cullen had given me this year rang. The other one worked perfectly fine, but their excuse was that it had to be up to date with the new technologies. I was not one to deny them anything when Esme looked at me with such intensity.

“How dare you go shopping without calling me!” said the high-pitched voice of the pixie from the other side of the line. I sighed.

“Alice, I'm not even "shopping". I just needed some new clothes-” but, of course, I was interrupted.

“I'll be there in ten minutes. Don’t you dare to move!”

I blocked the phone with a small smile. My life had changed since I decided to contact the Cullen family, and it had been for the better. They treated me like one of them but not pressured the issue of Edward, and I appreciated it. I wanted to be myself, and eventually they had accepted my human diet so it was no longer any problem between us. They had also stopped trying to convince me to switch to vegetarianism, although occasionally they brought it up jokingly.

My smile broadened as I raised my eyes to the dark sky with gray clouds. This was not the life as vampire  I had wanted so many years ago, but it was the life where I had done the best I could with the cards that were given to me. And knowing this made me feel more complete than ever.

[consummate-deviant]

Continued thoughts about Catra and Hordak...

Hello again, y’all!  Is life still treating you okay?  Have you spent time with your pet lately?  Eating a healthy and balanced diet?   Just a smaller thing today, not one of my full-blown book reports, but the infection that is she-ra passion has somehow managed to reach me even through the haze of pokemon breeding that has owned my soul this past week, and I gotta words some more.  The topic of discussion today will be Catra and Hordak… namely, how I interpret their dynamic going through season 4, and why some people view it as romantic. I’m… a bit of a windbag, though!  So, just to be safe, I’m gonna put the rest of this post behind a cut.  Let it never be said I was aught but a considerate dude.  Let’s discuss!

Now, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t view the dynamic between Catra and Hordak as romantic in season 4.  I think the reason it can kind of seem that way is that season 4 really did shift their relationship in a fairly dynamic way, and the contrast between the way they interacted before and the way they interacted after is pretty stark. Normally, such a wide contrast is brought about by the development of romantic interest by one or both parties, but in this case I posit that the cause was something equally interesting...  though quite a bit more tame: it was the first time there was any sort of emotional interaction between them, at all.

I should probably step back though!  Lemme explain what I mean.  How would you describe Catra’s relationships with Hordak and Shadow Weaver across the first three seasons of the show?  One of the more interesting takes I’ve heard is that the dynamic between the three of them is an allusion to a dysfunctional family.  Catra is the child acting out because she wants Mom and Dad to acknowledge her.  Shadow Weaver is the caustic maternal figure, emotionally sabotaging her child for her own benefit, and Hordak is the aloof, emotionally detached father figure…  The kind of Dad who can’t come to your basketball game this week, kiddo, because work called… but he’ll be there next week for sure!

...unless work calls again next week… and work always calls again.  

I agree with about half of this.  The fact that Shadow Weaver is meant to be seen as an allusion to a poisonous maternal relationship feels pretty close to undeniable.  Likewise, any doubt that Catra sought to be valued emotionally by her flew out the window when we saw the way Shadow Weaver treated her in the illusory reality created by the portal.

Pictured... kitty getting scritches.

Catra wanted to be appreciated, accepted, and loved by Shadow Weaver, and the tragedy of her character comes from being denied those things.  By contrast, when it comes to Hordak, of those three desires: appreciation, acceptance, and love… she only really wants two of them.

There is no personal element to the early relationship between Catra and Hordak, on either side.  Catra neither seeks fatherly love from Hordak, nor seems to be distressed by the lack of it, and that difference in her dynamic with Shadow Weaver and Hordak is pretty important.

Catra desires maternal love from Shadow Weaver.  What she desires from Hordak isn’t paternal love, but rather patriarchal validation.  Hordak represents the power structure of the world into which Catra was born, and her desire is to be seen as a component of that structure that has value.

For three seasons, where Hordak is concerned, her first priority is to be seen as an undeniably competent subordinate.  She endeavors to complete the tasks she’s given efficiently, and attempts to make suggestions with the intent of increasing the effectiveness of the organization. She fails in gaining his appreciation, and grows annoyed and frustrated by this, but that shallow anger she expresses toward him pales in comparison to the absolute devastation that Shadow Weaver’s ever-more-personal rejections bring her.  Had the status quo remained where it was, the two of them likely would never have grown any closer to one another… but then season 4 happened.

So, last week I shamelessly stole a question aimed @cruelfeline​ , and in my tactless theft I mentioned my answer to the question “why didn’t Catra just kill Hordak when she had him at her mercy in episode one”. I’m going to repeat that here, just to make sure it’s established:

“Some people don’t get why she spared Hordak instead of killing him, when she had him at her mercy, but she actually had a pretty vital need for him.  Catra has lost the ability to self validate: a lifetime of being raised by Shadow Weaver has beaten it out of her.  Thus, she has a pretty intense desire to receive external validation from an outside force… and with Shadow Weaver gone, Hordak was the only person around who could provide that.”

And let’s be clear on this first and foremost: the S4 relationship between Catra and Hordak is, for both parties, an attempt at rebound.  This is the first time Catra has Shadow Weaver fully cut from her life, leaving her with only Hordak to supply her with parental appreciation, and Hordak has been betrayed by someone he cared for deeply, but receives motivation to destructively channel his negative emotions from Catra.

This is also the first time Catra interacts with the real Hordak, and not the mask he usually wears before his subordinates.  While being exposed to his vulnerability gave her the power to usurp him, it also led her to a realization:  Hordak is… a lot like her.  One of my other favorite moments of wordless acting takes place with Catra in season 4. Hordak is expressing his feelings of inadequacy and desire to be acknowledged by his brother while destroying them princesses, and Catra, despite saying nothing, displays a range of expressions and ear movements that seem to say ‘wait a minute… is this guy… actually my dad, after all?’

That realization of commonality leads to the first actual emotional interactions between the pair.  The first actual attempt to understand each other, and that is, undeniably, a massive shift from the cold professionalism of their previous relationship.  Catra was always quick to assure Hordak that their actions were leading them down the path to his brother’s acknowledgment, and Hordak, in turn, validated Catra’s actions and choices… which she especially needed to hear in season 4, when she pushed literally everyone else out of her life. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, their relationship was mutually self destructive… each brought out the worst from the other, and helped their downward spiral remain in motion.  It’s interesting how there is a bit of similarity to the dynamic between Hordak and Entrapta and the one between he and Catra. Both are examples of awkward, lonely people, realizing they share more in common than they realized, and growing closer as a result. The latter is more parental than romantic, but the similarity is intentional, all the same… a way of contrasting healthy and unhealthy relationships, if I had to guess.

So… yeah!  If you’re wondering what the point of all that was… well… I’m flattered you think highly enough of me to assume I ever have a point to saying anything!  I was just pondering she-ra while biking across Galar, waiting for my rookidees to hatch...as you do… and decided I wanted to talk about  it some more! As always, I’m not really out here to persecute the Catdak shippers… er… all five of you.  I will never be the guy to judge people who ship things I personally don’t like, because I’m not a mailbox head.  Just expressing why I don’t think it’s romantically coded, but also why I still find it fascinating regardless. That’s enough outta me, though!  You guys have a lovely and productive week. If you have any she-ra related thingamajigs you, for whatever reason, wish to hear my thoughts about, feel free to ask, and I’ll see ya the next time I have the urge to feel ways about stuff.  Been procrastinating on my fanfic writing… so I think my next order of business will be to get that ball rolling again.  Anyhow, see ya!  Be sure to indulge in the finest of all winter beverages: warm, spiced eggnog.

[pynches]

risk it all (for you) ch8

a/n the final chapter is here! i hope i ended everything okay and satisfying enough. let me know <3

word count: 2573

Ronan stayed away from school the remaining days of the week. Instead, he spent his time either driving or at the Barns. He couldn’t face Adam, not after everything that had happened. It was already too much to think about the way he had been rejected, let alone see the person who still evoked the same feelings he had for a while now. Ronan couldn’t see Adam’s face without remembering how it had looked up close when Ronan could count the freckles dusting his skin. He couldn’t watch Adam smile at someone without remembering how it looked when it was directed at him; exasperated yet fond. It hurt too much.

The only reason he returned to Aglionby the next week was because Gansey had called him and begged him to go or he would be kicked off. Ronan was Gansey’s responsibility and Ronan knew it wasn’t fair to leave Gansey with even more of a mess to clean up. So, he went and got his heart ripped out the minute he entered the building.

Theodore was leaning against the lockers, one arm bracketed next to someone else’s head. A head with cropped hair that looked like it was cut with kitchen scissors. Adam.

Ronan watched as Theodore moved closer and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. As he drew closer he noticed how Adam looked slightly flustered while Theodore’s voice was suggestive and full of confidence.

“Are you sure?” Theodore asked, leaning forward to look deep into Adam’s eyes, the way Ronan had never dared to. Adam smiled and nodded.

The bell rang and Adam turned at the sound, eyes finding Ronan’s almost immediately. Ronan didn’t know what he saw in his face, whether Adam noticed the barely contained rage, the jealousy coiling low in his stomach, or the overwhelming feeling of pure agony that made Ronan slightly dizzy but Adam’s smile slid off his face immediately.

Ronan walked away.

“Ronan!”

He didn’t turn around.

Of course, Adam didn’t feel the same. He should have known better than to listen to Blue or the other women of Fox Way. He should have trusted his gut who told him that someone like Adam couldn’t love someone like him. Of course, Adam would go for clean-cut Theodore. The boy who is accepted into society with his politician smile that everybody but him at Aglionby seemed to have. Of course, Adam wouldn’t go for the boy who scared everybody away. He wanted to fit in and all he would ever do with Ronan was stand out like a beacon that shouted: “I’m an outcast!”. Adam deserved someone like Theodore and it was foolish to hope Adam would stoop low enough to think of Ronan as more than a friend.

Ronan shouldered passed Gansey who turned his head around to do a double-take and got into his car as fast as he could. He allowed himself to lean back and close his eyes for a second, just so he was calm enough to actually drive without instantly wrapping his car around a tree in his anger. He barely noticed the car door opening next to him until he felt fabric brushing his arms.

“Get the fuck out,” he said but it lacked the usual sharpness. He was just so damn tired.

“No,” came the response and Ronan didn’t expect anything else. Adam had always been a strong person. It’s what attracted Ronan at first; his ability to withstand any glare Ronan threw his way and look him in the eyes with a certain firmness that told him Adam was not going to change his mind so don’t even try. Lesser men cowered before him, but not Adam. Never Adam.

Ronan sighed, tearing his eyes away from Adam’s and focussing on the school building instead. “You’re gonna miss first period.”

“I know.” Ronan raised his eyebrows. Adam never missed classes, all of them too important to skip no matter how many time Ronan had tried to persuade him.

“Go inside, Parrish,” Ronan said, cocking his head towards the car door. “You can still make it.”

Adam shook his head. “I want to talk.”

“Oh,” Ronan snapped, “so now you want to talk? Why now, huh? We could have talked last week when I was knocking on your door and fucking begging you to let me in.”

Adam hung his head and he suddenly looked like he had before he got his magician powers. Distant but with a tinge of vulnerability that made Ronan’s heart clench. He looked like he was going to fall apart right there. Tired eyes turned to his and Adam mumbled a quiet yet clear “sorry” which wasn’t a word either of them used often. Most of their fights were resolved over time when they couldn’t remember what the fight was actually about and one of them said something to make the other person laugh and that was the end of it.

Ronan softened a bit at the apology. “I can come by later.”

He didn’t know why he suggested this. Maybe because Adam rarely ever expressed wanting anything. Maybe because Ronan couldn’t deny him, even if he tried, especially not when Adam was slumped over next to him, his head hanging in defeat.

Adam made him weak.

“No,” Adam said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s not fair. I should come by Monmouth.”

“I don’t live alone,” Ronan reminded him. “It’s fine, Parrish. Just go, I’ll be there tonight.”

He felt Adam’s eyes flicker over his frame, his eyes searching for his but Ronan didn’t give in to the temptation to look. This was difficult enough as it was and seeing Adam this close again was going to make him combust. He already felt like a ticking time-bomb that was going to hurt everything in its range and one look at Adam would make him go off.

Eventually, Adam nodded to himself and stepped out of the car. Ronan turned the ignition and drove off, watching as Adam’s frame got smaller in his rearview mirror until he couldn’t see him anymore.

-

Adam was pacing in his apartment. Why Ronan had agreed to come, Adam didn’t know. It was unlike them to have real conversations with actual depth and it was even stranger that they were going to talk about emotions and feelings, things neither of them are good at. Ronan expressed his negative emotions through rage, through slamming doors and dents in walls. Adam kept every bad feeling inside until he felt like he couldn’t contain it anymore and then he allowed himself some time to cry and get it out of his system. But they never talked.

As Adam was waiting, he couldn’t help but picture the broken look on Ronan’s face that morning. It had hurt him to see Ronan this way, the pain clear in his features. Adam was used to seeing passed the aloofness and plain boredom Ronan liked to show instead. Somewhere, though, he was almost glad he wasn’t the only one who was hurting. It was a sadistic thought, but Adam hadn’t seen Ronan in a week and the agony of feeling him ripping apart from where he was so carefully woven into his life was threatening to drown him.

He didn’t even know what he was going to say. “Please, don’t leave me again”? That would be pathetic and Adam wasn’t and would never be pathetic. He felt it, though. The urge to beg Ronan to stay. To not leave him again without so much as a text. To hold his hand again because Adam had felt so cold without it. All things Adam wished he was brave enough to say, but knew he really wasn’t.

This time when Ronan knocked, Adam didn’t hesitate before opening the door. He couldn’t have a repeat of what happened the last time Ronan stood on the other side. He hadn’t forgiven himself for that encounter and he doubted he ever would, but he couldn’t stop crying and he didn’t want Ronan to see him like that. Weak. Pathetic. If there was even a small chance of Ronan liking him back, it would have been ruined at the sight of his wet face and red nose. He fucked it up anyway, though, and Adam doubted he could fix it but he had to try. Just one more time.

“Thanks for coming,” Adam said quietly, opening the door further to let Ronan in. Ronan merely nodded and stepped inside, standing still in the middle of the room as if he had forgotten why he was even there in the first place. Adam scraped his throat and motioned to the bed but Ronan shook his head and kept standing instead. Adam placed himself in front of him, not willing to back down.

“Say something.”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk, Parrish,” Ronan said simply. “So talk.”

Adam ran his hands through his hair and bit his lip, a nervous habit he had picked up on lately. His hair was in constant disarray, even worse than it was before and his lips were red and bruised from biting it too much. Adam let the pain ground him and looked up to face Ronan.

He was beautiful. He had always been beautiful, though at first Adam was willing to ignore that and focus on his asshole tendencies instead. Now, however, with the last rays of sunlight hitting his cheekbones, casting shadows over the rest of his face, making it even sharper and angular, Adam didn’t know how he could have ever ignored this. He wanted to touch him and nearly reached out to do so before he remembered that he couldn’t.

“You were gone for a week,” Adam said. It wasn’t what he had planned on saying but right now, he couldn’t even remember the words he had rehearsed in the hours before Ronan finally arrived.

Ronan raised his eyebrows. “I was.”

I missed you. “Why?”

“I think you know why,” Ronan answered, his eyes locked onto his own. The clear blue of his eyes was clouding, making it look more like a stormy grey in the shadows of the room.

Adam looked away first. He had always prided himself on his ability to look in Ronan’s eyes without cowering away. Not many people could say that. Not many people could make Ronan look away either, but today Adam felt as pathetic as all of the others who had tried to stare Ronan down. His presence alone filled up the entire room and beyond it. Adam couldn’t breathe.

Ronan stepped closer. When Adam looked up he could see the concern in Ronan’s eyes even though he tried to hide it well. He hesitantly raised one hand and placed it on Adam’s shoulder, the touch feather-light.

Adam’s breath hitched.

“Parrish-“

“Why did you run away?” Adam asked suddenly, shocking Ronan into ripping his hand from Adam’s shoulder. Adam felt the loss in his bones.

“What?” Ronan asked incredulously.

“Today,” Adam clarified with poorly concealed impatience. “You saw me and you left.”

“I saw you with Theodore,” Ronan said through gritted teeth. “Getting a rebound a week after breaking up is pathetic, Parrish. You’re giving yourself a bad rep.”

“A rebound?!” Adam practically yelled.

“I mean, it was fake,” Ronan said that word with the utmost distaste. “But the others don’t know that.”

Adam wanted to scream. He wanted to shake Ronan until he was starting to make sense. He wanted to stop the world from spinning. He wanted, he wanted.

Ronan.

But he couldn’t. He wasn’t worthy. So, he went for the next best thing. Making him angry so he made the choice for them.

“What’s it to you?” Adam asked cooly, fixing Ronan with a raised eyebrow. “So what if Theodore and I are together. You’re right. It was fake. It shouldn’t matter.”

“But it does!” Ronan yelled. His chest was heaving, his hands balled in fists, pressed to his sides firmly. “It does,” he said again, this time softly, his voice breaking and Adam’s heart with it.

“I said no,” Adam confessed, his eyes focussing on a crack in the wall. Anything to not look at Ronan. Because he couldn’t. Because he had to say it. He had to stop Ronan from hurting.

Ronan didn’t say anything, so Adam kept talking. The words were falling out of his mouth. He had kept his feelings inside for too long and now there was no way of containing it.

“Theodore did ask me out. I said no.”

“Why?” Ronan had moved closer, his voice a mere whisper. Adam couldn’t stop himself from looking up. Ronan’s eyes had always been made from impenetrable walls and little by little those had fallen away in Adam’s presence. Even now, in the midst of their biggest fight yet, one that could truly break them, Adam could see through them. He saw hurt and confusion, but there were little cracks of hope shining through.

Adam wanted, so he did.

He closed one hand around Ronan’s neck, the way he had done the night of the party, and brought Ronan closer. Their breaths mingled, eyes searching each other, and despite Adam’s self-doubts, despite every time he had told himself there was no way Ronan would want him too, there was a reassurance in Ronan’s eyes that made him close his eyes and move forward.

“Adam,” Ronan whispered against his lips. Adam felt a thrill run up his spine and closed the distance.

Ronan’s lips met his hesitantly, the touch light and chaste, giving Adam every opportunity to pull away.

He pulled himself closer instead.

Adam tilted his head and deepened the kiss. He felt electricity running through his veins, his skin sparking at every point where Ronan touched it. He felt alive, so alive. He could do anything.

Adam distantly wondered if this is how Ronan felt after pulling something out of his dreams. God-like. But those thoughts were quickly fading to the back of his mind as he felt the wet press of Ronan’s tongue in his mouth. Adam’s gasped which only urged Ronan on.

Somehow, Adam went from standing to lying underneath Ronan, gasping as he softly kissed his neck. Adam put his hands on Ronan’s jaw, fingers tracing his cheeks and brought him up to eye-level.

“Does this mean you like me?” Adam asked, half-joking and half-serious. He had to know. He couldn’t give himself to Ronan now if it only meant hurting again. It had to be real this time.

“For a genius, you’re pretty thick, Adam,” Ronan laughed breathily, stroking away some hair that had fallen in front of Adam’s eyes.

“Ronan-“

“Yes,” Ronan rolled his eyes but smiled down at him fondly. “This means I like you.”

Adam kissed him slow and deep this time, pulling him closer and closer. He knew there were things they still needed to talk about and issues to work on. They had to tell the others one time and explain this entire messed up situation they had worked themselves in. They were going to have to learn how to be together for real this time. But, for now, he just wanted to focus on the warm press of Ronan’s body against his, how their lips moved together as if they had been doing it for years. For now, he just wanted to get lost in Ronan and forget everything else.

tagging @theogvodkaaunt (thank you for being interested enough that you wanted to be tagged!)