#but there’s something about the natural way the us has been presented as our somewhat friend at least

[ladywaterfall]

as a european hey what the fuck

[tswhiisftteedr]

The Cheshire Cat and The White Rabbit ☆ Headcanon

☆RSA Student!Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker(Che’nya) x White Rabbit!Heartslabyul Student!GN!Reader:

As you go through your day to day life as a Heartslabyul stundent, you begin to remark an odd/out of place presence lingering during unbirthay parties, or anytime you’re back on dormitory grounds. Unbeknownst to you and that unknown presence, your relationship would soon change to somewhat of a more intimate one…

Warnings: Non-Conseual Kissing??(Che’nya appears out of nowhere to kiss reader on the cheek), suggestive tones for the last sentence. Not proofread.

Note: This is based from this ask, this work is a bit a of a mix between Headcanon and Drabble, so sorry if this is longer than you wanted. But I hope you’ll enjoy it!!

☆ More under the cut. ☆

As obvious as it sounds, Che’nya with a White Rabbit!Reader comes out as an odd pair up to anyone around able to see it. But despite the aloofness of it all, it is still a one of kind relationship that is precious to both concerned parties.

First I’d like to elaborate on White Rabbit!Reader;

White Rabbit!Reader would definitely be assigned to Heartslabyul following the NCR Dark Mirrors’ logic.

White Rabbit!Reader just like the original in Alice in wonderland, would be a jittery individual.

White Rabbit!Reader would be the extremely cautious type, and very much so around troublemakers like Ace and Deuce.

They would automatically freeze up as they heard the duo’s familiar voices. Readers long ears would be wide and rigid along their back while their body is stiff, crouching down close to the floor. A natural reflex to seem less threatening, as one is scared.

White Rabbit!Reader is very submissive, despite not wanting to get in trouble they would often go along with anything anyone asked of them, if said person was persistent enough.

White Rabbit!Reader is definitely one of Riddle’s favourite dorm member, despite their willingness to go along with whatever is demanded as long as some pressure is applied. This is simply because of how much they follow the rules.

White Rabbit!Reader probably would have the rules all memorized half way into the first semester, if not sooner.

But this exemplary display of discipline doesn’t come by because the reader wants to follow the imposed rules. No, not at all, they even have beef with some of the 810 rules, not agreeing with them at all.

They just follow them because they get easily frightened by the idea of having anyone mad at them for doing something wrong, especially house warden Riddle. Oh boy, is he a scary one to our poor little rabbit!

White Rabbit!Reader is definitely the apologetic type, to an extent that they would repay any damage cause 10 folds.

Ex. They stepped on your foot by accident, and in addition to an extended apology, they would also bake you cookies for you to forgive them.

Also despite excelling in academics, in fear of disappoint anyone if not, White Rabbit!Reader is very naive. To the point of doing things way beyond deserved to repay someone.

I feel like they might have bumped into Azul some day, spilling WATER on his uniform. And obviously Azul being Azul, after seeing their reaction to the situation. Used their naivety against them, making White Rabbit!Reader work their bones off for a week at the Monstro Lounge, for ‘Damage of his personal property’.

Another thing about White Rabbit!Reader certainly has allegrophobia(phobia of being late). They would probably arrive to an event 4 hours early if anyone actually let them. But at last, to our little rabbit’s demise that time has been realistically reduce to 30 minutes, in some cases a max of 1 hour.

They most likely, once arrived 10 minutes late to the preparation for an unbithday party, and upon realizing it, they bawled their eyes out, profusely apologizing to Riddle and their fellow dorms members for their tardiness. Begging for everyone present for forgiveness after ‘they ruined the day with their latenesses’. Even after “Strict Housewarden Riddle” told them it was fine, they wouldn’t let it go for a month, apologizing to him and any Hearstlabyul students they encountered during that time.

Now that we have established their character, let’s move on to White Rabbit!Reader with our favourite Cheshire Cat beastman!

How they met;

Che’nya definitely had seen the reader around Heartslabyul before, after all how could he not notice them with their long white ears, puffy tail and constant trembling out of nervousness. But their official meeting didn’t happen until a little later…

White Rabbit!Reader would have met Che’nya during one of the many unbirthday parties that took place during the year. The encounter was one sided for the most part.

He had snuck in on campus from RSA, to spend some times with his childhood friends Riddle and Trey, maybe scare some freshmen with his signature spell.

But he instead found himself observing the reader. He watched as they would constantly look around before the tea party begin as some sort of nervous tick, and how they held their tea cup with two trembling, making it seem like they didn’t trust themselves not to drop it.

Honestly it was all really amusing to him.

Che’nya would’ve certainly decided to mess with the reader, by play with a strand of their hair, blowing down their nape, even resting his arms on their shoulders with his head on theirs, all that while being invisible. It really did mess with reader’s head, they felt stuff but no one was their to do them!

And that only made it more fun to him.

This would continue for about halfway through the party, he had then made the choice to reveal himself. Hugging the reader tightly from behind, as only his toothy grin was visible. Making the students around the reader freak out and Riddle sight in exasperation.

But how did the reader react you may ask? Well as they always do! They froze up, ears flat down, and completely at his mercy.

After seeing that, he bursted out in laughter, forgetting about maintaining his magic, now fully visible.

Having reader’s frozen self in his arms for a little while, he then release them from his tight grasp. Watching as they slowly unfroze, now fluster, with a blush creeping on their face(this is only if they have the skin-tone for it). They would babble incomprehensibly as they register fully how close they had just been to someone else.

They would then look up at Che’nya, grin plaster on his face, with a trembling pout as if they would soon cry from the overload of emotions.

That didn’t necessarily make him feel bad, well maybe a little. But he mostly though it was cute, and made him want to play and tease them even more.

How it started;

After White Rabbit!Reader and Che’nya’s first official meeting, the mischievous cat beastman would frequent NCR more and more often, basically on a weekly basis.

Getting his dose of entertainment at the reader’s expense…

Things started small, from surprise hug attacks, playing with reader’s hair without their knowledge, doodling on them when they weren’t paying attention. All small and sorta sweet things, but they could still be completely considered platonic.

Than things started to shift a little, Che’nya would visit on the daily, actually chat with the White Rabbit!Reader instead of just messing with them.

He would of course still mess with them tho. His favourite way of doing so was by playing on the reader’s immense sympathy and willingness to fix their wrongs.

Che’nya would fake being offended by minor mistake the reader did to get them to do silly things to amend, such as;

Selfies with odd clothes on, dumb challenges like pranking riddle together.

But his upmost favorite ‘compensation’ was when he would make the reader do something they’re afraid of, so that they would rely on him.

Ex. Reader is afraid of heights; Che’nya is making them go on a broom ride so that they’ll cling onto him.

Reader is afraid of spiders: He’s bringing them to barn full of them, so that they’ll hide their face in his shirt.

Anything goes really, as long as they’ll into for him for comfort and protection. Even if it is something he’s also scared of, he’ll still continue with this tactic just to see the reader all squirmy and looking up at him with begging eyes, counting on him to chase away any danger.

Just the thought of it made him grin…

A bit further into the semester, he started to switch things around. He would do this thing where he would chase the reader around, making them do embarrassing things as punishment if he caught them.

But this confused White Rabbit!Reader so much. Sure Che’nya had developed some sort of fixations with seeing them a bit miserable, but this was new, like did he seriously like them?

Now some might be confused by this train of though, but there is a viable background to it.

You see, in the wild, males rabbits chase females as part of “courting”. Sometimes, males and females chase each other.

Some of it is just fun and games, but sometimes it is part of the dominance relationship.

So to our dear White Rabbit!Reader, this was like Che’nya told them he was interested. After all he was already sharing a meal on most day with them!(probably just snacking on some chips). Which is another way rabbit show courtship.

White Rabbit!Reader liked how Che’nya focused his attention on them, and didn’t seem to care if they made a mistake despite him ‘faking’ offense. He always had a big warm grin on his face no matter what. This made them fall for him.

So White Rabbit!Reader had liked him for a little while by then, but were never sure if they should confess. ‘Because what if it offends Che’nya, or worst he doesn’t want to be around them anymore!’

So they kept it to themselves, but after Che’nya started chasing them around, they weren’t sure on what to believe.

So about a week later since the original events, White Rabbit!Reader talked about their feelings to Trey, a kind soul they had befriended. They explained to him all the behaviour Che’nya was displaying, and how it made them feel. They even admitted to wanting to date Che’nya if he’ll have them, but were to shy to actually confess.

But unbeknownst to them and Trey, Che’nya was listening in, as he had decided to pay a visit that day.

And after hearing about reader’s thoughts and feelings, Che’nya made the decision to take matters at hand. Showing them his own feelings, in his special way…

The usual hug attacks would now be followed with a peck on the cheek, he would start nipping at them: nape, cheek, etc., he would hold their hands when dragging them somewhere.

White Rabbit!Reader little bunny brain was overwhelmed by the obvious display of affection, causing them to by pass their initial shyness and out right ask Che’nya about his feelings.

Of course the confident cat beastman answered without a problem, admitting he had been pinning for them for quite a while now, and that he also knew that they felt the same.

This made White Rabbit!Reader break away from their usual obedient and non-controversial self, replacing it by one that would proceed to call Che’nya mean and selfish for playing with their feelings, despite knowing they had difficulty expressing theirselves.

The cat only chuckle at this, grabbing the reader by their waist, hugging them tenderly to bring reassurance. Finally, the both of them ask each other out.

How it’s going;

After Che’nya and White Rabbit!Reader start dating, the dynamic wouldn’t really change.

Reader would still be his favourite person to tease and play with. And reader would still fall for his tricks.

The only feasible changes would be reader being more open to reprimanding Che’nya for his mischievous acts, and a great augmentation of physical contact.

PDA would be at almost its max between the two, Che’nya would kiss and cuddling them in public.

But he would keep make out session for behind closed doors, only he should be able to enjoy his bunny’s sweet gasp and breathless panting!

And anything that follows~

Thanks @chaoticsilly66 for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

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[brigidfromthecelts]

Healing Hands (Law X FemReader)

Summary: You were somewhat of a slave on your previous crew - if you could call them that - and now that you are with the Heart Pirates, you don't really want to bother anyone.

Until you ask your captain to remove that awful Jolly Roger tattoo that covers very intimate places that he now has to touch.

Notes: For MATURE readers only! Implied/referenced abuse - Mild Sexual Content

This is very likely a one time thing. I was just trying to do a character study on Law and it escalated! Also, this is quite raw, compared to my usual works. I did not want to waste too much time on this since it was mostly writen on a whim!

Ps: English is not my first language so I apologise in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

Word count: 3650

Link for A03 if you rather read there.

The first time it happened it was very light. Just a deep pressure behind your eyes, a throbbing of sorts that came and went. It was bearable, for a while, then it became bothersome so you thought that some medicine might help and stopped by the sick bay. 

Luckily, the captain was nowhere in sight, and you could go by your business unannounced. You did not want to upset your captain! You had barely exchanged two full sentences with him since you joined the Heart Pirates, and to say that he intimidated you was not enough. 

So you took some headache pills from the shelf and went on your way. 

Only two days had passed when it happened the second time and this time the pain was sharper and it came with nausea and a sensitivity to bright light and loud noises. Grunting you made your way to the sick bay again and popped an extra pill, just to be sure it would pass. Thank God the captain was away again. 

The third time happened the morning after and it felt like dying, surely. Your skull was being split into two by an invisible axe and you could barely get out of bed. You went into the bathroom to empty your stomach on the toilet but it was already empty so you were dry heaving for about ten minutes, large tears staining your puffed up red cheeks. 

And the pain did not relent. 

You knew why this was happening, really. You had been deprived of using your devil fruit powers for such a long time by those cursed sea prism cuffs that, now that you were free to use them, your body was resenting the newfound freedom. 

Maybe this time you should go to your captain. This could be beyond your expertise. 

You got up on wobbly steps and exited your room. The Polar Tang was bustling with activity, with everyone already on their posts and working hard. Everyone but you. As you were approaching Law’s quarters, you heard him yell and berate someone over - it seemed, since there was no response - the Den Den Mushi. He seemed pretty mad. 

So you backed away. 

You could do this on your own. All these angry words were making your skin crawl and you could feel your jaw clenching which, in turn, just made your head hurt more and more. You could not help this natural reaction that your body had when presented with stressful situations. 

The captain of your former crew -... Wait, could you even call them crew if all they did was kidnap you, place cuffs on you, force you to being with them and abuse you every day? You shouldn't, really. But it was ingrained deep into you that he was your owner and captain . And you should obey him. Anyway, he always yelled. So much yelling. 

So your natural reaction to it was to escape. Which you did, even if your head was throbbing and you could barely see where you were going. 

You bumped into something - someone - soft and almost fell down on your butt. Hastily apologising to Bepo, who helped steady you, since you could barely stand on your own legs, you looked into his eyes and implored.

“Don't tell the captain, Bepo, please!"

And then you ran away again, seeking refuge in the med bay and thinking about downing the entire bottle of headache pills, wondering how many could the human body sustain before shutting down. 

Taking deep calming breaths, you sat on the infirmary bed. Just to get it together since the world was spinning around you and you did not know what to do to stop it. 

There was your friend, nausea, making an appearance as well. 

So you groaned and laid back. Just a minute. Just until everything stopped hurting. 

Then it hit you. You could just use a bit of your powers. Maybe it would help. Oh, for sure it would help. Why didn't you think of it earlier? 

Raising your right hand in the air and lowering your index finger made all the sounds stop. You sighed. The outer world had stopped existing and it was bliss for a second. 

Then you lowered your ring finger because everything was still so very bright, even without your eyes open, so taking away your sight would make that stop hurting. Surely. 

And it did. For a moment.

Next was the smell because the nausea was attacking you again and the smell of alcohol in this room was overwhelming. So you lowered your middle finger and the nausea subsided a bit. 

You thanked whatever deity had helped you find the right fruit, because being able to just shut down your senses was definitely a bliss. 

But the incessant throbbing was still there. Maybe you should turn off your sense of touch as well. Would it help? 

You were about to lower your pinky when you felt a very strong hand enveloping your own and you gasped, though no sound reached your ears. Opening your eyes, you were momentarily confused because you couldn't see anything, until your pained and tired brain clicked and you let go of the hold you had in your senses by relaxing your hand. 

And all at once, sound, smell and vision came to you and you were overwhelmed by your captain. His staring was cool and hard and he was berating you with angry words. He smelled of soap and antiseptic and it was all too much. You just wanted to retreat again. 

Sitting up and raising your hand again, getting ready to use your powers, once more, you made yourself appear smaller, your legs against your chest, your free arm enveloping your knees, but Law’s grip was firm on your hand and he was not letting you use your powers. 

“What do you think you're doing? How long has this been going on? Why didn't you come talk to me? I'm the doctor of this ship! Not just your captain.”

You felt tears sting in the back of your eyes but tears just made your last captain angrier so you bit them back, swallowing a sob. Your hand twitched. You wanted to retreat into yourself so badly. 

“Stop trying to use your powers. If you're in pain, I'll help. You don't have to do everything alone.” 

Now this time a sob really escaped your lips. No one had cared about you or about helping you for so long. You didn't know what it felt like to get someone's help. 

“What hurts? You need to talk to me.”

He wasn't yelling anymore since your hand stopped twitching, but his gaze was so cold and intense . 

“Head.” Your voice was weak and fragile. And so, so broken.

He took out a flashlight from the desk’s drawer and examined your irises. Then  he told you to open your mouth and you groaned at the effort. 

“Dizziness?” You nodded softly. “Nausea?” You nodded once more and your hand grasped the sheets because the world was spinning again. “When was the last time you ate?” You shrug. Honestly you have no idea. “Drink?”

“I can't keep anything in my stomach.” It hurt just to talk. 

“Lay back. I'll start an IV. You're dehydrated."

You obeyed and closed your eyes. He wasn't looking at your face when a fat tear rolled down your cheek. It felt nice to be taken care of, for once. 

You felt a sting when the needle punctured your skin but barely flinched. “Next time, come to me. I don't bite.”

You nodded stiffly but realised that he needed an explanation. “My last captain didn't like to be disturbed.”

You barely whispered. 

“Well, your last captain was a dick and I thought that we had already established that.”

He knew some of the story. You didn't share everything with your new crew. They found you in chains, on one of your former captains punishments and put two and two together with the little information you had provided. They knew you were some sort of slave. You just didn't share much more than that. 

The medication he had put in the IV was helping because the pain was subsiding and you sighed. 

“If there's a next time, I'll be sure to find you.” You said and he nodded. 

There was a beat of silence and he shifted on his chair. He was probably going to leave because he had other businesses to attend to other than keep you company, but, suddenly, you needed him there with you, so you opened your mouth and immediately regretted bringing up the subject. 

“Can you erase tattoos?”

His dark eyes bore into yours and you gulped while looking elsewhere.

“Yes, but I thought that they hadn't marked you.” He looked at your bare arms and legs - since you still had your pyjamas on. 

“They did. You just can't usually see it…” You felt your cheeks turn beet red. You should not have mentioned this. “Forget it, it's fine. It doesn't bother me that much.” You could feel your eyes stinging again. 

“Clearly it does.” He leaned back on the chair and crossed his arms. “Do you want to show me?”

Not really. You didn't even know why you brought it up. Other than the fact that everytime you undressed or took a shower you wanted to use a knife and cut that damn tattoo off of you. 

“It's big.”

That was an understatement. It was huge. 

“Show me.” Well that was an order. And you were used to those. So you sighed deeply, trying to gather some courage. 

He was a doctor, he was a handsome man. He had definitely seen boobs before. There was nothing to fear. 

Slowly you lifted your pyjama's shirt, making sure you kept your nipples covered with your hands - trying to maintain some dignity, at least - while your eyes looked at anything other than his face. 

Law got up and you heard a low grunt erupting from deep in his throat. “That dick did this to you?”

You nodded and suddenly your throat felt very tight. “He did.” You could feel Law’s eyes roaming around your body. The tattoo of the previous crew Jolly Roger was carved in the middle of your sternum but, since the Jolly Roger was of an octopus, it's tentacles were everywhere. Two of them enveloped your breasts in a very sexualized manner, there were two that escaped to the back, two just roamed around your stomach and the other two disappeared beneath the hem of your shorts. 

And those were the ones Law was staring at, his eyes dark and his lips a thin line. You gulped, self conscious of your body and covered up. 

“It's no big deal. It's been there for the last five years anyway…” And you could still feel the way your last captain touched you to mark your skin. Your turned your face away from Law, stifling a very small sob. You hated feeling this weak and pathetic. But there was nothing that you could do about it. 

After five years of constant abuse, it was instinctive. 

“I can do it whenever you want.” His voice betrayed nothing. But his eyes were as cold as death. 

“Would right now be okay?” Had that sounded desperate? Because you were pretty sure you could not take another bath scrubbing yourself raw until everything turned red. 

He nodded. “Just going to let Bepo know that I'll be busy. We should let the IV finish as well, so you have strength.”

And he left you without another word, but you could see him clenching his fists and could feel his aura and he was beyond angry. 

You closed your eyes and tried to rest a bit. The pain in your head had finally subsided. 

-*-

You woke up to a burning sensation in your stomach and hissed through your teeth while lifting up your head. 

“I'm sorry, does it hurt? I anaesthetised you, so it shouldn't be too bad.” You shook your head. You'd known worse pain than this. “You were sound asleep so I started on your back then proceed to the stomach area. It's done.”

You looked down and he was right. A big part of it was gone. Most of the tentacles and the Jolly Roger were gone. You were really out of it for not having felt anything. 

“For the rest of the tentacles you need to… Remove your clothes.” Was that a hint of a blush on his face? Because yours was burning up. 

You nodded slowly. “Now?” He also nodded so you took a deep breath and took off your shirt. It was just boobs. And nipples. The last crew had seen them on a daily basis anyway and you were pretty sure that Law was just going to look at them in a medical way, not oggle at them and try to touch them like the other pirates did. 

Somehow, very secretly, you were glad that the last captain only wanted you to himself. You would not have survived long by being abused by everyone in the crew. 

Yep, that was definitely a blush on his cheeks. You gulped and tried to look anywhere but his face, but it was hard. He was so… intriguing… 

Law hissed trough his teeth and flexed his fingers. “I have to touch you. It's the way this works. Can I?” You nodded but he closed his eyes firmly. “I know what you've been trough - at least what you do share, clearly not enough - so I need verbal consent this time, okay? Can I touch your breasts?”

Your stomach summersaulted at this affirmation and you were pretty sure that your heart had skipped a beat. Thankfully you weren't on any monitor or that would've been flagrant. “Yes, you can touch me.”

And as soon as his long fingers started to trace the tattoo on your skin, you felt like molten lava. He was just using his fingertips and his touch was so light, yet it was igniting a fire in your belly that you didn't know was there. 

You were pretty sure that your mouth hung open since the minute he started to touch you but you couldn't care less. This feeling was overwhelming . You gulped and glanced at his face. His brows were scrunched together and his jaw was clenched tight. You could see little prespiration beads forming in his forehead. Was he using that much of his power? Or was it just the concentration? 

His fingertips grazed your erect nipple and you bit your lower lip to stifle a moan. What was wrong with you? He was a doctor! He was doing a procedure! And you were getting turned on like crazy! 

You closed your eyes tight and took a deep shaky breath. Vaguely a lone thought passed through your mind. You had never been touched like this. In such a gentle way. No touch had ever ignited this… desire within you. 

You could feel your heart beating somewhere between your legs and you knew that that was no place for it to be beating so you tried to think of something else. 

But you couldn't think of anything else. 

Because this man was fire and desire and he was literally burning himself into your skin. Your hands clasped the sheets tight and you fought very hard not to arch your back and lean into his touch. 

“Does it hurt?” His voice was somewhat affected as well. He seemed… drunk. But certainly not on booze. 

“No!” You should've just kept your mouth shut tight because your no came out accompanied with an earth shattering moan that you were trying to contain since he started to touch you. He gasped and removed his hands. You turned tomato red and covered your mouth with your own hand. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean…” 

Didn't mean what, genius? To be so turned on by your touch? To give in to pleasure? To want to have your lips on my nipples and your cock inside me? Shit. You should get a grip. 

His hands were on the bed and he hung his head down, taking a deep breath. Was this affecting him too? 

“Maybe you should use your powers.” His voice was so low that you weren't sure he had spoke at all. “Remove your sense of touch so I can do this.” The silence was stifling. “And remove mine, as well…”

When you didn't answer he lifted his head and you could see his eyes. He seemed lost, like he had never felt quite like this before. So you felt bold. 

“I want to feel you.” You forced yourself to stare at him while you said those words and you couldn't care less if your head was fuming with embarassment. “Do you want to feel me…?”

He opened his mouth to answer but closed it immediately, taking a deep breath instead. “I'm your captain.”

“So?"

“Your experience with previous captains was terrible. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

Your hand traveled all the way up to his and your touch was feather light. “You're not making me feel uncomfortable. You're helping me heal.”

And that was the truth, because his touch was healing emotional scars as much as the physical ones and he should know that. 

His eyes burned through yours and he seemed to be waging war inside of himself. 

A small nod. 

You could count that as a win. So you settled back again. Inhaling deeply and trying to control your emotions. You could use your powers as he had suggested. But you wanted to feel him . 

“I need you to… Lower your shorts… Please.”

Your head snapped up and you stared at your boobs. He was done already with the tentacles of the breasts? Okay, so this was fast. You could get trough this. 

Gulping, your hands found the hem of your shorts and you pulled them down, along with your panties. You heard Law’s shaky exhale while he looked at you. You knew the two tentacles trailed over the mound of your pussy and wrapped themselves around your thighs. So you lifted your knees and  opened your legs slightly before he had to ask you to. 

It took a while before he touched you and you were starting to feel self conscious. “Is… Is everything alright?”

He grunted and held his index finger up, like asking you to wait, while his eyes remained closed. For an instant you thought that he was reviewing the process in his head, but then your eyes traveled down his pants - unintentionally - and you could see the outline of his hardened cock tight against his pants. 

So he was as aroused as you were. 

Blushing, you were just about to give some mercy to this man and to use your powers when he opened his eyes and, with a very determined look, started to touch you. 

And by everything that was sacred, there were so many nerves down there, and it was like they were all tingling, right now. 

You instantly clenched your jaw and grasped the sheets. His touch was harsher now, needier it seemed. He was using both hands - maybe trying to finish this faster? - and the sensations were intensifying by the second. 

A burning sensation all around, a tightness in your belly and an ache - like something was missing - in your core. His fingers were so deft and long and hot and you needed them inside you so desperately .

You bit your lip and couldn't help but arch your back a little when his finger almost touched your clit. He grunted and hissed through his teeth but he did not stop. 

Aparently, two hands truly worked faster because he moved his position and was now staring at your tighs - and probably at your dripping wet self. 

“You're going to kill me.” He muttered between his teeth but before you could reply, he had one hand on each of your tighs and his touch was now rough but not at all unkind and you moaned so hard your throat hurt. 

“Fuck, Law. Maybe take a break. I-... I'm…” Everything was overwhelming and his touch was igniting you and you just knew that you were going to fold and come even without his fingers inside of you, if he didn't remove his fucking hot hands from you. 

“I'm almost done.” His grunt was almost animal like and this time - maybe on purpose or maybe because he was being a bit sloppy with his work - his thumb did brush your clit. 

“Law!” You screamed and squirmed and your legs clenched while you rode out your waves of pleasure. 

God, nothing ever had felt quite like this. And this was the result of this man's blessed hands. You noticed that he was panting as well. A very deep blush was covering his cheeks, as were yours. 

“I'm sorry…” You started, a bit ashamed now. 

He inhaled and regained a bit of composure. “Don't ever say you're sorry about your pleasure. You and I both know you've suffered enough.”

You nodded while a lone tear traveled across your cheek. 

“Your tattoo is gone now. Hopefully I was able to replace the awful memories associated with it.” 

Your mirthful laugh made him lift his eyes to meet yours and he looked surprised. You realised that it was because this was the first time that you had actually laughed since boarding the Polar Tang. “Yes, you were.”

“Are you alright?” He asked, his cool demeanour almost back in place. You nodded softly and he hooked another fluid bag to your IV and told you to rest for a while. 

His hand lingered on your arm, you noted. 

And as you closed your eyes you couldn't help but think that you were alright indeed. 

Albeit, perhaps a bit in love with Trafalgar Law.

[tyran-the-tyranical]

I’m currently writing a fic and writing for Raphael is a little infuriating if I’m being honest.

Mostly because he has such a way about him, and unlike the other characters where there’s some room for deviation, he’s quite rigid in his mannerisms. So I’ve literally been scraping through his dialogue and ‘analysing’ his behaviour, and this is what I’ve ‘boggled’ it down to.

EDIT: This is actually really long, and in fact not boggled down at all, Keep Reading at your own peril...

(OK, So I've completely reorganized this post to be more readable) 

Raphael is a complex and multifaceted character, but here are some main character traits of his that I'll delve more into as we go on;  

-Manipulative and Deceptive 

-Arrogant and Condescending 

-Sadistic and Enjoys Suffering 

-Cunning and Strategic 

-Relishes Power and Control 

-Patient and Calculative 

-Dark Humor  

-Alluring and Subtly Flirtatious  

-Dual Nature and Contradictory  

-Hedonistic and Indulgent tendencies

-Ambition

Though Raphael wants to paint himself as an honest person, that still doesn’t mean he isn't Manipulative with us, he uses many tactics to gain our trust, from crafting this honest and helpful persona to literally threatening us and building pressure to make a deal to escape ceremorphosis. 

"I'm here to help, not harm” 

"I am master here. A prince of bargains cloaked like scarlet satin. All that hidden under sublimely obvious truths that cannot be discounted." (From Chapter 3 of his Diaries) 

“Come now, why playing hard to get when you're in deep over your tadpole head all those pretty little symptoms sundering skin dissolving guts they haven't manifested yet have they?" 

"I'll be around watching you squirm like a tadpole through a nice juicy brain" 

As we progress his threats go from subtle to outright fear-mongering, but this also goes into somewhat of his dual nature as when he moves past his honest persona to just pressuring you, he still wants to paint himself as some sort of Saviour. Of course, this is also just another tactic of his, painting himself as a friend or helper, as though he doesn't have his own ulterior motives, which sure he admits outright but in the ending where you do give him the crown he drops this façade and tells you he's planning on taking over more than the hells and will eventually come for you next. I also think this bleeds into his own needs to be adored, you can see this further in his little plaques he has around his house. 

"Am I a friend? Potentially, an adversary? Conceivably, but a savior? that's for certain. Try to cure yourself. Shop around - beg, borrow, and steal. Exhaust every possibility until none are left.  And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair that's when you'll come knocking on my door. Take all the time you need but make up your mind before you're counting down with tentacles"  

Additionally, this all just feeds into his performative nature - to the extent that he sometimes borders on narrator territory. He has his little monologues as he talks about us as though we’re characters in a story and he’s just recounting our actions to some unseen audience.  

[His speech before the Yurgir encounter is a good example of this]

 

"Through the dark, she went creeping and awoke what was sleeping" 

"The Shadows grow long and the hour is late" - also wherever this quote is from works well too 

There are even more subtle moments where he's still being performative, even when he's not physically present, which goes into his desire and constant longing to be seen as something akin to a True or Full Devil (or archdevil). Since he is a cambion he is restricted a lot by his mortal half. He is held back by his human needs like sleep and presumably food too. I think he tries to cover for this through excess, as if you go to the HoH in Act 3, you can see the food on the table is just filled to the brim of just rotten food, basically all of it wasted. Also, there are loads of scattered areas that have fruit or wine throughout his house. I believe he does this on purpose to try to come across as though food is nothing but a pleasurable activity he indulges in now and again rather than a necessity and he doesn't care if he wastes it (Also just saying he's rich, let them eat cake, L + Ratio). 

However his façade isn't perfect since he is still fallible, and he can fail/die. We can see this because, at every opportunity he possibly can, he attempts to convey this front of being omnipotent and powerful - as close as he can to an archdevil. To be fair, he manages to do this pretty really well, At times he can even come across as this truly unbeatable force, that we can’t ever truly defeat. This is exemplified by the fact that, even if we kill him, if we look in his logbook of previous visitors, it hints at him trying to find a way to cheat death by transferring his soul into a clone or something adjacent. 

Now whether he ever managed to accomplish this by the time we attack him is uncertain, (though there is a non-canon / cut content line where he begs for his father's help as we fight him, kinda of insinuating he never fully realized his backup plan in time and he’s actually afraid he’ll die, but that’s also not in the game so who can say for sure) 

“I cannot lose to you. Not here. Not in my home. I cannot die! Mephistopheles, hear your son! I am at your mercy - save me!” - NOT CANON BTW, but omg do I love this line 

Another slight hint that Raphael might not be as indestructible as he'd like us to believe is when he is playing lance board with Mol. 

"My, the double counter Gambit. Vicious. Exactly what I would have done" 

Now for all intents and purposes Raphael does not need to win against Mol, that wasn't the purpose of their game, either way he already had his eyes set on her to make a deal anyway. Yet it demonstrates that whether you cheat or actually manage to outwit him, he can be beaten, since he can't hide behind a persona when playing (Mostly). 

Furthermore, Raphael is like an English teacher, he loves his little similes and metaphors, and just talking in a verbose manner, and it’s not just word vomit, no no no, he makes it sound interesting, he is performing for us after all. For me personally tho, it’s difficult to replicate, unlike other characters or companions where you can deviate their dialogue, like hearing Astarion say ‘fuck you’ to Cazador, I don’t think you could get away with that for Raphael.  

"The mouse smiled brightly it outfoxed, then down came the claw and that love was that"  

"Perfect, one more rhyme for Old Time's sake; The master was slain within his own house, they dined on him both, the cat and the mouse."  

"Like a mosquito nibbling at a dragon, be gone"  

I also think it's so interesting that the man who does nothing but spout rhymes and poetry will say this if you call his poetry out for being dirt; 

"I admit it isn't my primary interest not, by any stretch" 

Excuse me, sir?  I do think he genuinely likes poetry/writing in general, he supposedly even wrote a play before sooo, also I just think that all these contradictory things he says are on purpose, he's trying to be mysterious to some extent, and he doesn't want you to be able to gauge or understand him, he just wants you to believe in his persona he's crafted for you and that's all. Though like I've said before, his mask can slip off, especially in private or when he's enraged. An example is when he's referring to his employees who have failed him.  

"[A record of various associates of Raphael's, listing their duties, and their respective performance.] 

Korrilla Hearthflame - field work - so far I've barely 

had to singe the tips of her fingers. This one shows promise. 

Archivist - naughty boy, supposed to be looking after the collection, 

but has a tendency to drift. May have to start breaking his neck to 

give his spine a chance to recover. 

Nubaldin - little shit let Gortash get away. Not letting 

him near the prisons ever again. Chamber of Egress will 

do fine until I find a replacement for him." 

Moreover, he’s also very condescending/patronizing. (I think even in one of his dialogues, the devs noted he should even come across that way). I think that’s just a part of his little superiority complex, he’s the chess player and we’re all just his little pawns (that is until we kill him ourselves, it almost makes me think that Tav/Durge is actually the other player in the game and to some extent Raphael knows this and tries to play accordingly). He constantly wants to portray this cool and confident personality, that he’s accounted for every possible outcome (and in a lot of ways he has) and that even if he doesn’t get what he wants, it doesn’t faze him, and in fact, he’ll try to make it seem like either way it benefits him, and sure in some ways it might, but I do believe he’s just saying that to mask his failure to achieve his goal. 

"I should snuff you out and make coin of your soul, but it will be more amusing to let you see the consequences of your actions. Do you really think that the crown is safer in the hands of a goddess than in the claws of a devil?" (Look, I don't like Mystra, but do I think the crown is safer with her? UH yea)  

"Such an eager little pup."  

"You really do think highly of yourself. My sights are set on something much more valuable than your soul, succulent though it would be."  

He's Definitely pissed at us for being a little shithead and giving the crown to Mystra (even tho in the game if you complete Gale's quests you rlly have no choice lol) But he still tries to play it off as this will be terrible for you but great for him, since if shit hits the fan, he's just gonna get more souls - Though I'm sure this is him just trying to save face, or at least to some extent. We can see him actually lose his composure if we ascend Gale. 

"Do not toy with me, Wizard!" - R 

"I thought you liked playing games? You can have the crown Raphael, but you'll need to come and collect it from my realm" - G 

"You can't do this!" - R 

"I hit him where he's most vulnerable, pricked his pride, and sent him back to the hells to lick his wounds. He'll be back, the question is will he find us side by side?" - G 

This is really fun to see since even Gale knows Raphael has no power over him and can just mess with him, and initially, Raphael tries to gain control by saying like 'Oh no, I'm not going to take the crown Gale's going to give me it, like we agreed' and then when Gale fucks with him and it utterly infuriates him because there's not much else he can do really since Gale, though he might not be as powerful as Mystra, is definitely more powerful than Raphael. I also think it's very interesting that, even though we've basically gone against Raphael and screwed him over, he doesn't plan on taking it out on us, and I know he says he wants us to see the consequences of our actions but I think there's a different reason to why he doesn't take action against us. I think he's genuinely afraid of us, let me explain. He was clearly already afraid of our potential before any of the endings, shown in his dream he wrote about in his diary, and when we manage to survive everything that the game throw at us and defeat the nether brain, we've basically become undefeatable (Not really but you get what I mean) The only time he even suggests he'll take one of our souls is if Gale explodes while trying to ascend and well, there's not going to be much resistance since he's already blown up. 

"There was one among them who spoke for the rest. They gestured to the melting hooks, suddenly glanced my way, and in their face I saw they had the best of me. 

In waking, my courage has firmed. I progress my plans for

the tadpoled even now. 

I am Raphael. I am not easily bested." 

Raphael is not only fueled by his ambition but his fear (I'll talk more about that later too) and so he acts accordingly, he plans and schemes for hundreds of years trying to account for every possibility, and at times he can even come across as a total control freak lol. He has Korilla literally stalk us throughout the game, he also knows personal facts about our companions (he’s done his homework), and he’s literally planned and orchestrated events in the plot to help lean towards us giving him the crown in the end (it’s implied he helped vlaakith chain Orpheus or idk some other devil did with infernal chains, and he’s the one who helps wipe Ketherics lil army to just one justiciar) he’s had a lot of time to plan and plan he has. He’s constantly aware of your movements since he picks very specific points to appear to you.  

"[Laughter] The good thing is though there's only one little voice you really should listen to, Mine" - Total control freak behavior  

"you'll be back, it's something of great importance to your master is it a love letter a warning or a deed of ownership I can give you all the Gory details"  

"Carved into that Ivory skin of yours is one part of an infernal contract between the archdevil Mephistopheles and your former master" 

"Karlach, why does that name ring a bell? hmm, perhaps I read it in a book somewhere." 

An interesting thing to note is that I think his controlling and performative tactics are the ultimate reason to why he inevitably fails (If you decide to kill him I mean) Since he's spent so much time controlling the narrative literally and figuratively, he's literally altered events leading up to our arrival so that we can give him what he wants and he even talks about us as if we are just a character in his story he's created, he's been doing this so long he truly believes he can control the narrative, that he's predicted every outcome and he really doesn't think we'd go against that we could go against him. He's been so out of the narrative himself, an observer who might nudge things to go his way now and then but never be in the action himself that he truly believed he was untouchable, that he could just float above it all like he did with Karsus’s folly happened. 

Now onto an aspect of Raphael I find very interesting – His relationship's with those around him. As I said before he’s a total control freak, and that’s clearly fueled (if not caused) by his narcissism and we can see that even outside of our protags. Look at Haarlep for instance, (there’s so much to dissect with these two) but Raphael strictly has Haarlep made to look like himself, and is the only form he’ll sleep with. There isn’t just one answer to why he’d do that, firstly, it just boils down to him being a narcissist sure, but on the other hand a point can be made that he’s doing it strategically. 

Haarlep was sent to distract him, and presumably to spy and report back as well (Hypothetically, it's not confirmed) and presumably, Raphael is clever enough to realize that. So why would he reveal anything about himself in such a vulnerable way, so why not just make the incubus be in one form and one form only? It also serves as a lil bit of a punishment I suppose, since Haarlep can be 1000 different people but is forced to stay as one. There’s also another angle to this, that narcissists generally find intimacy difficult, and being vulnerable with other people. So why be vulnerable when you can stick to the devil you know? 

Party member: How did you end up here? 

Haarlep: Sent by Mephistopheles... distract naughty son. 

He knows himself better than anyone, so why would he bother with anyone else? It’s a bit of a defense mechanism, he’s not willing to be vulnerable or let his guard down (and to be fair, for good reason) so it’d be better for him to stick to what he knows, what he’s comfortable with. I’m just going to throw this out here but he comes across as a total hedgehog dilemma sorta of guy, gives off real Shinji Ikari vibes tbh. (NOT REALLY, He's more Gman than anything but just without the charisma 💅) 

Party member: Did you ever turn into forms besides Raphael's? 

Haarlep: Raphael... loves... only... Raphael. 

Now, this is just supposed to be a Raphael analysis but I find it impossible not to mention Haarlep and their motivations as well, since they are arguably the closest person (Literally) to Raphael. Haarlep comes across as a complete gossip type since they seem to just love to air out Raphael's little secrets, they even say how Raphael can Deny them nothing so either Raphael does trust them to some extent to make them his confidant or well, Haarlep just Wittles it out of him during their sessions. Either way, they hold some closeness to Raphael, yet I find it revealing that they immediately will expose him and actually help you (for a price ofc) and intentionally try to help you kill Raphael. Now whether they believed we could actually kill him or not is up for debate, but after you give them your form they do say that they'll enjoy misusing you and they do tell you what will happen when they use your form, so if they believed you were going to die why bother? 

Haarlep doesn't seem to be the only one as in their letter to you in the epilogue it's revealed that even the devils in Mephistopheles's court seemed to hate Raphael. 

"Since the timely end of Raphael's reign, I've gone back to Mephistopheles' Palace in Cania. Many of his Father's court are celebrating the demise of my little brat - behind closed doors. And I'm making a fortune selling evenings in his form now there is no contract binding me to secrecy. Rather tasteless to desire a dead man like that, even amongst devilkind, isn't it?" 

Haarlep even calls Raphael their little brat, though perhaps it was out of endearment as even Haarlep remarks how low it is to desire a dead man when they use Raphael's form. This could possibly show some sort of remorse towards Raphael's death, but it's pretty unclear, yet that's also to be expected since Haarlep is a full devil and they even state they're a crueler master than Raphael so perhaps that was true as well. It genuinely seems that no one actually cares for Raphael, besides perhaps Korilla, and I mean that's fair in all honestly, considering how he treats most of his employees (Hope too) but it's also funny that the people he wants to impress or become most, the devils, also hate him or want to well.. Have some fun times with his form after he's already dead.  I also think it's interesting that Haarlep refers to Raphael as a dead man rather than a devil, they don't even say 'amongst his own kind', It's interesting because Raphael himself is so adamant on calling himself a Devil rather than cambion or whatever (tbf he's not the only one, Mizora does the same or at least out characters don't care to make the distinction) Yet Haarlep doesn't care to make that distinction. Now, of course, man doesn't necessarily mean a mortal man or whatever, but it's still intriguing to note.

An interesting thing to note about Devil society is that, unlike Demons who usually just outcast or kill their cambions, Devils at least allow Cambions to intergrade into their Hierarchy, but at the same time it's a system that wasn't built for them to succeed in since cambions can't physically be promoted, they aren't guaranteed anything form their work, so everything they have, they've had to work hard for. Unlike those around him, Raphael has had to work extra for his position (though I'm sure his title of Son of Mephistopheles did help somewhat) he seems to have it quite good, and tbh I even initially thought he was his own free agent, and didn’t even have to serve under Zariel (but he does) he just has it really good, or at least better than most cambions from what it seems. At the same time, I find it intriguing that he sparsely even mentions who he is in relation to his father. Through subtle hints throughout that game, it's clear that Raphael actually probably hates his father or is perhaps extremely jealous of him, since at the same time he mirrors him in some aspects.  

I think the Dungeoncast said it best when examining the devil's mindset that I also think apply to Raphael quite well too;

"Their dogma essentially revolves around seeking power over others, always adhering to an eye-for-an-eye principle. They exploit any kindness shown to them and show no compassion for the weak, exhibiting traits of a sociopath. Winning at any cost is their mantra, often cloaked in the guise of promoting personal excellence and independence. When they harm others, they rationalize it as providing motivation to succeed."

Even though his society basically looks down on him, whether he's successful or not, Raphael still believes in their mindset, mostly since that's probably how he's survived and thrived in the Hells. This mantra that the devils have has warped who he is as a person entirely and also his ambitions, he doesn't want any other than control, he sees no point in forming meaningful relationships or other interests, and he only sees domination and power as his goal since that's all his society has told him is important.

Another thing I’ve read about cambions is their sense of entitlement, especially over mortals, and well Raphael certainly fits the bill. Which might contribute to why he wants what he wants. I mean, why does Raphael want to take over the hells? To end the blood war? Sure, almost all devils want to rise the ranks but Raphael’s goals are a lot more lofty than that, and why is that? Is it solely his ego? To be seen as something kin to a god-like Asmodeus, or is it to best and humiliate his father? Perhaps both, or perhaps neither, it’s somewhat unclear, but perhaps he just feels entitled to something greater or maybe he wants out of the rat race that is the Devil's Hierarchy.  

"It's the Fatal flaw of mortal kind take away their free will and they call you a tyrant, allow them to indulge it and they become tyrants" 

 

A final point is since he’s a narcissist, he’s obsessed with his image, yea I know, very obvious. And it’s been mentioned a few times that this is probably why he and Haarlep look so different, it’s either insecurity or wanting to come across as something more mature, why he’d look older than Haarlep when they should be an exact copy. It’s the whole reason he’s been performing, curating this image to us, one that he barely even allows himself to break at home unless he’s enraged. If you look at it for what it is, it’s just insecurity and almost desperation. A desperate desire to be seen as something greater, something akin to his father (daddy issues are making their appearance) and it honestly comes across as erratic, and extreme. 

 

He’s so obsessed with his image that perhaps when Haarlep said they’re a perfect copy of Raphael they didn’t mean as an exact copy, they meant they’re are literally a perfect version of Raphael, a better version (most likely a result of insecurities of how he's perceived). Who can say for sure what the reason is why they look so different if they’re supposed to be mirrors of each other. His whole obsession with is image really matches his father, since Mephistopheles is known to change his appearance and curates it for mortals as well (It's why he's confused with Asmodeus a lot since he just goes for a basic generic devil look). 

One more thing, considering all the characters we meet throughout the game, Raphael is or is one of the oldest characters in-game, seeing as he's possibly 1000+ years old. Considering this, it makes sense that on top of him being a devil anyway, he finds himself detached from mortals as well as his own mortal half. Though he is quite proactive in his contract seeking seeing as he not only seeks us out but characters like Mol and Lyrthindor (Tho that was more towards orchestrating his own goals) Otherwise he can just sit up in his Ivory tower devoid of mortal's strive, I mean he even says multiple times that his house is a safe haven for the tired/sick/restless/etc. On top of him already trying to detach himself from his mortal half, he also has the benefit of being so old that he probably has already become numb to it, to mortal thoughts and feelings. He wouldn't be able to emphasize or understand it (tho him being a devil wouldn't have helped either) all he would understand is how to use their suffering to his own benefit. Any possibility for humanity within Raphael is either so faint it's practically not there or there is none left entirely.  

"Never have I been so attracted to mortals as I am to those infested by the tadpole." 

He even says this himself. Mortals have never had any impact on him, physically or emotionally. Yet in saying that, they've never really been given the chance to. The closest a mortal besides us the player to have ever gotten 'close' to Raphael or have impacted him is Hope. Raphael is not only a complex character but he has so many complex relationships with the few people he lets around him. As I said before Raphael is completely blinded to humanity, he's definitely a person who believes the ends justify the means and that has never been more evident than in what he does with Hope. He doesn't care what It takes just as long as it gets him what he wants, that's why he helps orchestrate the plot to lean in his favor, why he basically tricks Yurgir, and why he has no problem torturing Hope even though she's basically no one to him, she isn't even a debtor.  

Though Raphael is almost completely removed from being anything close to a human being, even after all this time, whether he likes it or not, he still does have some human traits. His interests for one help humanize him (Which tbh he is probably aware of and uses to his advantage) Sure he likes poetry and literature, but he's also just obsessed with everything surrounding Karsus and Hope (or at least the concept) He even names his house The House of Hope and whether he renamed it that after Hope or whether that was it's original name isn't clear but either way he really likes the idea of hope in hell. You can see this throughout his house on the little plaques he has scattered throughout, he definitely wants to be people's last hope or perhaps just hope in general, it would make sense as well since he wants to literally break hope and bend her under his will. 

"Karsus's folly the Bard and Scholars call it. I call it hope, the hope of creating a better world, and The Perils of unchecked hubris"  

(Karsus and Hope are basically his only two special interests that he starts to literally combine them) 

Another very human trait of Raphael’s is that Raphael has a fear of failure. He even has dreams about us destroying everything he's worked for and killing him.  

"There was one among them who spoke for the rest. They gestured to the melting hooks, suddenly glanced my way, and in their face I saw they had the best of me. 

In waking, my courage has firmed. I progress my plans for the tadpoled even now. 

I am Raphael. I am not easily bested." 

Even though he reassures himself that he is Raphael and cannot be easily bested it's clear he's still very desperate. The only variable in his plan that he can't truly control is Us and he definitely knows this. Even other characters like Gale can tell how desperate he is. His facade of Invincibility is one of the tactics he uses against us to keep us in check against him. To be honest, all these things lend to humanizing him far greater than any poetry or quote he could ever spout because it shows his vulnerability, it shows he's not as invincible as he'd like us to believe, that he does have weaknesses and can in fact fail. A very mortal trait to have in all fairness. 

Also on another quick note, he totally has a special interest (obsession) in Karsus, like him seeing Karsus accidentally kill thousands of people in the netherese cities became a core memory for him, one that he’s never let go, even now.  

"The archdevil Mephistopheles snatched up the crown and squirreled it away in one of his vaults. He is not more than a frigid archivist"  

"I want the crown that dominates the Elder brain and then we all Gather in the House of Hope me dressed in my finest silks, you skinless, hanging from a hook to watch as your world dies"  

"you would have been Heroes if you only dealt fairly with me, instead you're not so different to doomed Karsus, overreaching your limits and burning your world to Ash"  

"The screams oh the screams hundreds of thousands of people watching in horror as the ground came up to meet them" 

His ambitions seem to be fueled a lot by his narcissism and this belief that he can achieve all he's set out for and actually do a good job in implementing order, etc. Whether this is a founded belief or not is debatable, since we don't really know what he achieves past supposedly Avernus. 

"Though with the crown, I would impose perfect order, Unity, efficiency, control, my kingdom would control its borders and stay within them" (Sure pal) 

OK, onto the kicker here; Raphael is a very alluring character, he can even come across as flirtatious at times (Also through his body language and I obvs can't demonstrate that here but u get it) Throughout the game he's saying how he'll wine and dine us if we give him what he wants, yet In the ending where we actually give him the crown, I think it's so telling that after all his promises of dining with him and getting to see him again if we deliver it, he literally doesn't follow through at all (There's a debate for this since we don't know if he might've once his plans were done) and this just proves what we were to him; that we were in fact just pawns to him. Even if he does invite us to dine with him, it'll most likely be with a purpose, that he wants something from us or for us to do something for him because otherwise he's gotten all we wanted from us, the facade has been lifted and he doesn't need to try charm or threaten us, he's effectively done with us (literally, since it is an ending). It's all just another aspect of his manipulation and Persona he uses against us (And I mean, It worked) We're all just a means to an end for him. 

ALSO, A little side thing I should note is the silly lil Dark humor Raphael has. Raphael, being a devil and all, definitely has a dark humor. You can defo gather that from his dialogue but also the way he comes up with creative punishments for his debtors. Now some of it is just basic evil shit like the guy who does the Self-flagellation stuff and the one who's forced to act like a dog, but some of it is more than that, like the guy who worships his chamber pot which just so happens to be under the statue of Mephistopheles or the debtor who's forced to dance (which I think is a reference to The Red Shoes story/movie where the character is literally forced to keep dancing) or the chick who just voyeuristically watches what goes down in the boudoir, like yea it's horrible but sometimes it just cartoonishly ridiculous and you can't help but find it somewhat amusing. 

"Hope [Laughter] such a tease" like when he says this, unbeknownst to us, he's referring to the real-life Hope, more of an inside joke to himself really. 

On top of all that - this specific paragraph isn't really poignant to Raphael's character necessarily, it's more of a personal observation but - I think if there were to ever be a romance with Raphael the best option is to not give him the crown (tho I do kinda wanna see him with his lil crown being the prince of hell). It's similar to Gortash, in that if you want to be his equal you shouldn't grovel and just give him the netherese shards, you need to challenge him and show your mettle basically. Now I'm not saying Raphael would be pleased with this, but if you wanted to be an equal, this is the best route, otherwise, there's always going to be that power imbalance like with ascended Astarion. (AKA, kill him, Do It) 

My final point that I wanna make is, that all the characters in Bg3 are designed with a fatal disbelief. Y'know Gale believes if he becomes a god he can prove himself to Mystra, Lae'zeel believes that  Vlaakith is righteous and will allow her to ascend, Shadowheart believes she can find herself/ her purpose in Shar, and Astarion believes he'll finally be safe if he becomes the vampire ascendant, yet we that these believes are all unfounded and end up being untrue wif they achieve them, and the same goes for Raphael. Now, if Raphael achieves his goal of getting the crown, he most likely will still end up not getting what he wants, for two reasons; Asmodeus literally cannot be defeated - Let me explain; So there are a few origins for Asmodeus and to most popularized one (and the one I prefer) is the one where he and some of the other archdevils were actually previously angels that got corrupted while fighting demons. 

Yet, in earlier editions, it's stated that all of that is just speculation and mythos surrounding Asmodeus and his real origin is that he is literally a cosmic force that was there at the beginning of time. OK. Now personally I don't care for this origin but either way, whichever one you believe I think my next point still stands the same. Whether Asmodeus is just a being that has achieved something as close to godhood as he can or a literal cosmic force of lawful evil, Raphael probably would still be unable to defeat him even with the Crown and scepter and any other of Karsus's little items, he most likely if anything could only get to the eighth layer. Now in saying this, this is still not his disbelief, because his personal belief is also one that all devils share, which is a complete lie, that being the entire hierarchy they abide by. Every devil abides by this meritocracy hierarchy, and the belief that if they become more powerful, and ascend - that they can reach Asmodeus status, but this is a complete an utter lie. Asmodeus keeps this facade that he could be defeated, but in truth, he's kinda way too powerful for any of the devils in hell, and he knows this and uses it as a tactic to keep them in his control.  

Now Raphael to some extent knows that he has to basically cheat to be even able to ascend, since he's a cambion and the hells system wasn't exactly designed for him to be promoted. Yet even if he manages to conquer every layer up to Cania, he's still going to lose since he's basically destroying the hierarchy and therefore he won't have control over the devils beneath him. Now the crown can be used to literally dominate people but that's not what Raphael necessarily wants - He wants to be adored and willingly followed, and of course, he'll use the crown when he has to, but to wholly subjugate everyone in hell to mindlessly obey doesn't seem to be his goal. There are more practical reasons as well why there are certain devils that have control over the layers, and Raphael, no matter what power he can possess, is still just one individual, and inevitably it seems as though there would be a lot of chaos rather the perfect order he believes he can achieve. 

I know that the crown can basically make you a god, and if Asmodeus has powers akin to a god and Raphael can theoretically do the same, then why can't he just defeat Asmodeus? well, it goes into Raphael's fatal flaw, his arrogance. If we look at Gale, for example, he made himself a literal god and still wasn't powerful enough to defeat Mystra, and yes, Raphael 'Is no mortal' but this is what I mean, he believes is above Karsus and Gale, that he'll succeed where they failed but that's just not the case. Like I've said before, Raphael desperately wants to be seen as more, his ego won't let him accept anything less but that still doesn't change the fact that he is fallible, and we don't have to look any further than when we managed to defeat him. Now in saying all this, this is all theoretical and kind of bleeds more into an opinion, since we don't know what plays out after he gets Avernus, perhaps the other archdevils managed to kill him before he achieved anything, or perhaps he really did manage to conquer Baator and the other realms, Who knows. (I might be cooked for saying this, especially since I do wanna see him be a lil prince of hell, but arguably giving him the crown, besides being our bad ending, is also his bad ending - No further explanation) 

Like I know I said, this is what I’ve boggled it down to and well, it’s not very boggled, but that’s what I mean! There’s so much going on with this little guy, it’s almost hard to keep up with, you gotta write him as suave and mysterious but also somewhat threatening and intimidating, he has to be articulate and persuasive as well as theatrical, while also keeping in mind his manipulative and narcissistic/egotistical tendencies, which doesn’t come easy to write for. 

This isn’t a slight by any means either, he’s a complicated character and that’s why I like him, but my sorry ass struggles to replicate it 🥲 though I hope this post will be a good reference to circle back to when writing for him. 

[cornistasiathecoblinking]

⭐️ from one writer to another, please yap about your writing ⭐️

Since I've been working on Metropolis since 2023, I'll yap about it! ( i have it locked from AI scrapers so here's a screenshot. )

The story's basic premise is your average Roxanne and Megamind hooking up in secret because fun!

Both have private and professional reasons for keeping their hookups a secret; Megamind, because Doom Syndicate is stupidly bureaucratic and relationships between villains and damsels/kidnappees, are strictly prohibited (really channeling Venture Bros. Guild of Calamitous Intent vibes here), and Roxanne because in this, she and Metro Man really ARE dating and, through a series of compromises in her life, she is very much woven into his family's dynamics.

While this connection to the most powerful in Metro has been beyond advantageous for her professionally, and in her personal life, she finds it incredibly stifling.

Something that I think is important to realize in this fic is that... well... it's like "brainwashing." Being brainwashed is not so much hypnosis and chemicals in the water, but it is a series of small concessions over a period of time.

Since Megamind and Roxanne have been hooking up, Roxanne slowly starts to realize that not everything is as it had once been. Clothes that were bought for her, and provided for her by others don't fit quite right. Conversations with her friends rub her the wrong way. Nothing is as it was and she no longer "fits" in this box of expectations that everyone in the city puts her in.

Slowly but surely, she learns to be herself around Megamind, cause it's not like he can tell anyone either right? So through their time together, she can relax and open up a little and Megamind finds he adores this side of her. So much so, that he finds ways to coax it out, and the more she be her true self, the more he falls in love with her.

Without getting too much deeper into the heart of the story, and risk spoiling it, I want to segway that there is a historical fiction element to it.

The main part of the story takes place in Present Day Metro City, but there are certain elements that have fallen into place since it's founding in the last 1800s. We see Metro go from a little trading post near a natural spring that the local tribes had called "Warriors Wound' which is rich in iron. (the surrounding stones are stained red, check out Blood Falls in Antarctica, it's \,,/METAL!\,,/) there are studies that mineral springs have health benefits when you soak in them (thus local legend that "Warriors Wound" helps heal the the local natives that soak in it's waters.)

(for the record, I'm both spiritual and a geology nut. xD)

This discovery lead to an industrial revolution in Metro. The trading post became Iron Town, and as the years passed, through a series of backroom negotiations, greed, etc. became the sprawling metropolis it is now. ("Metropolis" is Greek for town/city, hence the name which ties into each chapter opening being something to do with Greek mythology/astrological themes.)

Fanfiction is free therapy, right? I suppose this story is somewhat autobiographical; Roxanne is channeling a lot of my own upbringing.

In exhausting myself to meet others' expectations, burning myself out in trying to achieve long-term career goals, and grappling with my struggle to find my own identity and putting away the mask that I've kept up in my life.

During my youth, family, friends, and work associates had always "assigned" me all these roles and expectations. But over time, you "outgrow" these roles and you suffer because you're not living Your Life but you're living other people's version of their lives. They are living vicariously through you.

I remember being young, like, I don't know, 6? 7? 8? And hearing and seeing these kinds of tactics made me so, so, so angry. and back then, I didn't have the vocabulary to explain why. "I don't want to!" "I hate this!" "Leave me alone!" was largely ignored when you have two emotionally immature parents who thought "Boundaries = Rejection" and "Rejection = your kid hates you" When they felt that way, they were very withholding and rejecting.

So as a kid, I just grinned and bore because I had abandonment trauma (my parents were in the Gulf War and left me with an aunt for months during that whole time. Then another time, my dad got shipped to Bosnia and my mom was shipped to Florida and I was left with a postpartum babysitter who... may or may not have kidnapped me during this period. Not really sure but that's a whole different story.) So, while I hated being assigned unrealistic expectations, I accepted it because, in my child's mind, "Being Mad = Being Abandoned." and that's not at all a fun time.

There's a whole lot of other baggage to unpack, but that's the bare minimun of that whole time.

But, anyway, why did I go off on this tangent? Well...

Story time,

I was in my early twenties, and depressed but didn't really know why I was depressed. I was just a general level of unhappiness that was at the very core of my being......

UNTIL

I was flipping channels on tv to have in the background while I played World of Warcraft. My dog had just died so that was contributing a lot to my overall sense of SAD and at least gave it a face at the time.

"The SUN needs to WARM UP?!" which, hearing without paying attention to the context made me bust a gut laughing. So I rewound it to get a better sense of the context... and rewound it... and decided, "Wait... this is actually.. REALLY funny!" and left my WoW friend to die in the dungeon while I started the movie from the beginning ("The VERY beginning!!") and watched it... probably eight times on repeat that night!

That night I was so hooked, that I scoured the internet for more googling about sequels and fanfictions and what not. This lead me to Live Journal which is how I found the Megamind fandom!

The reason I bring all this up, is that it was through the Fandom that I was able to take off my mask and be myself. It was through the fandom that I had learned what Gaslighting was and meant, and recognized that others felt the same as I did in my life!

I also began to see that my friends and boyfriend in real life... weren't... actually good people. I started to recognize that they had behaviors that I found repugnant. They would say things that once, i found uncomfortable but could not put a word as to why, now I would stare at them like, "why are you like this???"

But back then, I couldn't just "drop" them. we'd be friends for years. A lot of time and memories invested in the relationships. But the more invested I became in the MM fandom, the less and less I enjoyed being around them. I had noticed that they were becoming possessive of me and my time. When I started writing my first MM fanfiction, and looking at fanart, they would ignore me, even going so far as to say, "This is a kids movie... don't you think it's a little weird for adults to be... this *into* it?"

I didn't really have anything to say to that, but I just stopped talking about it.

Quickly, things began to degrade between all of us. I was spending more and more time chatting with the fandom on LJ and AIM chat, and less and less time hanging out with them, and when I did, I was withdrawn, less social and chatty and sneaking in plot points on my phone whenever I got a chance.

The more I changed, the worse they became. This was also occuring at home with my parents as well. They didn't recognize who I was becoming, and I felt claustrophobic in this box they kept trying to shove me in. The more I grew into my own person, the less everyone was liking. When I was a child, I was easy going and chill, and now, after years of self help and therapy, I recognized that this had been a coping mechanism. I had to let so much go and swallow so much disapointment and resentment because if I hadn't then I would have been abandoned again, neglected and ignored.

But with the MM fandom, I was finding people that liked who I was and accepted me and listened to me and who helped me become the person I am today.

Eventually, those friendships erupted in a big and painful way. I finally called it quits on trying to be their friend. My boyfriend followed maybe a year or so later, shortly after meeting the fandom at Dash Con. I realized I hated being in a relationship with him, and that I was holding onto him because he was my last thread of attachment to my friends.

But you outgrow people and situations. You outgrow your old life. I was like a snake shedding its old skin, growing and changing.

Today I am married to my best friend and happier than I've ever been! I've made lifelong friends here in the fandom and we've met up periodically. I talk to them every day and I don't feel like I am walking on eggshells around them. I can share my interests without bracing myself for eyerolls or mockery.

Megamind changed my life for the better and... yeah. That's... essentially what is happening to Roxanne Ritchi here in Metropolis. She was "stuck" for years without realizing it and through her exposure to Megamind, she is growing and changing into the person she is meant to be.

A bit long-winded but I hope anyone who sees this stuck around for the ride. Thank you for asking @belleyells ! I hope it was informative!

[grayskies2525]

An Admirable Denial |M/M| Part 14/14

Link to all parts: An Admirable Denial (14 parts)

Epilogue

Eleven Months Later

“Felix, you can literally get her anything and she’d be delighted.”

It’s a week before Christmas and Connor finds himself at the mall. It’s predictably loud, busy, and utterly overwhelming. Felix, though, doesn’t let this affect him in the slightest. Connor has lost count of how many times Felix has stopped dead in his tracks to look at something in one of the store windows. Connor would sigh in fond exasperation, roll his eyes, then smile apologetically at the people Felix had inadvertently inconvenienced before gently wrapping an arm around Felix’s waist to guide him forward. If Connor had any say in the matter, they would be purchasing every single present online this year. This was Connor’s approach to buying presents, though he didn’t have that many to buy. This is especially the case this year, considering he wouldn’t be buying anything for his mother after making the hard, but necessary, decision to cut her out of his life. He didn’t make the decision lightly and had several sessions with his therapist before finally committing. 

“I know I can get her anything, but I want something that just … I don’t know… just really screams ‘Annie’ you know?” Felix says, as once again, he stops to look inside of a window.

Connor places a hand on Felix's back, encouraging him forward. “Okay, literally anything screams Annie. Last week when she was over to watch that movie with us, she went on and on about how she liked our ‘fancy’ drinking glasses. Even though we literally got them at the Dollar Tree. I really wouldn’t think too hard about this,” Connor says, as they dodge several children who are chasing after each other, yelling and laughing.

An hour passes by, and to Connor’s dismay, they are still in the mall and have not made actual substantial progress. There’s nothing at all enjoyable about this day — with the obvious exception of spending time with Felix. Christmas music is, of course, blaring in every single store they step into. There’s also Christmas trees everywhere. He can’t fathom why a store would need three Christmas trees displayed at the front, visible as soon as one walks in. Connor knows his disdain for Christmas likely is connected to issues surrounding his childhood, his parents, and deep-seated envy at other people experiencing the “joy” of Christmas when he and his brother never did more than exchange a gift or two even when he and Brian were children. Even this small gift exchange was more of a perfunctory sense of obligation on his parents’ part, and not any meaningful desire to make their children happy. This lack of celebration was due to his parents not caring enough, and not out of any kind of religious objection. His parents couldn’t be bothered to put forth any effort — it was that simple. 

Felix, however, is practically bouncing as he makes his way through the heavily decorated mall, while happily humming along to the music. In the year they’d dated before Connor left, Connor had only somewhat experienced Christmas with Felix. Connor and Felix had first begun dating in early December, so their relationship had still been extremely new by the time Christmas came around. They’d bought each other very small, cheap gifts, but otherwise, didn’t celebrate it together, which Connor had been more than fine with. This is the first year Connor is actually seeing Felix in his full Christmas spirit. Their house — which had once just been Felix’s, but they now share together —  is overflowing with enough Christmas cheer to nauseate Connor. When Connor feels especially cynical toward Christmas as he looks at their tree, or at their entirely unnecessary “let it snow” throw pillows covering the couch, he’ll simply sigh as he remembers the pure joy these things bring Felix.

Connor isn’t only opposed to the decorations and music, but also at the crowds this time of year naturally brings out. It’s not just the people Connor objects to — it’s their germs.

Connor watches as a woman sneezes, uncovered, as she sorts through a clothes rack. Not a second later, a man coughs forcefully — also uncovered — as he walks through the aisle Felix and Connor are in. Connor feels his mouth form a tight line as he, instinctively, holds his breath. Felix, however, has no such inclination and is clearly about to walk straight through the path the man coughed in. Connor, once again, puts his hand on Felix’s back, softly pushing him, in a silent attempt to redirect Felix away — this time to save him from the effects of walking through the invisible cough cloud. 

Felix looks up at Connor, a frown on his face. “What was that for?” he asks.

Connor sighs. “Someone just coughed all over the place and you were about to walk through it,” he whispers.

“Oh,” Felix says, shrugging, then proceeds to walk straight through the path the man had been coughing in.

Connor widens his eyes. “It’s like you’re determined to get sick, Felix. I mean, you have no sense of self-preservation. You keep touching everything, and then you’ll chew on your nails or rub your eyes.” Connor pauses as he continues to think. “And that’s not even to mention your complete inability to keep yourself warm, for god’s sake. I mean, Felix, I know you have a coat. I bought you one,” Connor says, unable to keep his frustration from tinging his words. “How can someone who spends 80 percent of his life wrapped up in a blanket burrito on the couch be so averse to wearing a coat?”

Instead of acknowledging Connor’s very well-articulated and reasonable concerns, Felix merely snorts before saying “You’re such a germaphobe, but it’s okay, I love you, anyway,” as he continues sorting through a clothing rack.

“A germaphobe?” Connor says, hoping his voice conveys the amount of indignance he feels. “Excuse me for wanting to make sure you don’t spend your favorite holiday laid up in bed, feeling miserable.”

Felix meets his gaze. “It’s so cute how much you care, babe, but it’s fine. I haven’t been sick in, like, a year.”

Connor stares at him. “And do you remember how bad it was when you were sick last year? I seem to recall you lying on my floor talking delirious nonsense.”

Felix scrunches his nose up at the memory. “Well, yeah, but that was… I don’t know, that was an anomaly. I mean, that flu even took you down, so I don’t think we should really count that.”

Connor can concede that was a particularly bad flu — it’d turned into an aggressive sinus infection for Connor that he had, with Felix’s firm insistence, needed to see a doctor to have treated. It provoked them both to get their flu shots this year. Still, though, Connor huffs out a breath in frustration. “I’m just saying, you should take more measures to stay healthy. I mean, I swear, like 80 percent of the people in this building have some kind of sickness.” Even as he says it, he hears a particularly harsh and wet-sounding sneeze off in the distance. “Honestly, we shouldn’t even be out when we can —”

“When we can ‘just stay home and order presents online,’” Felix interrupts, imitating Connor’s voice, playfully, causing Connor to narrow his eyes. Felix just laughs. “If it were up to you, we’d never leave the house.” 

“I mean — well… yeah. I don’t see what’s wrong with that,” Connor says, only somewhat sheepishly.

Felix must deem this amusing because he laughs again. “It’s good to get out sometimes, Connor. That’s, like, how you build immunity or whatever. Gotta expose yourself to germs to fend them off. Anyway, I’ve never been sick on Christmas before, so I’m sure this year will be no different.”

Connor stares at Felix. “I don’t think that’s how viruses work, Felix.”

Felix, though, just rolls his eyes and continues shopping. 

__________

Four days later, Connor is performing his daily ritual of bringing coffee to Felix when he hears Felix stifle a particularly harsh sneeze.

“HEEH’NKXXXT!”

“Bless you, sweetie,” Connor says as he holds out the coffee to Felix. Felix, though, shakes his head as he holds up a finger. Connor realizes what’s happening as he watches Felix’s chest heave and nostrils flare. 

“HEEHHH’NGxxT!”

Connor chuckles. “Bless you, again. Got any more left?” Felix doesn’t need words to answer because his breath starts hitching again.

“HEEHH’NGT! HEEHH-Ng’T!”

Connor lets out another laugh, more than used to Felix’s “morning sneezes” at this point. He, again, holds out the coffee for Felix, but Felix is ducking his head into his arm for another sneeze.

“HEHH-NGT’choo!”

“Bless you,” Connor says with a raised brow. “Five sneezes this morning, huh? You always say you never sneeze more than four times in the morning.”

“HEP’NKT!”

“Uh, Felix… sweetie, are you feeling all right?” Connor asks, frowning.

Felix sniffles thickly before meeting Connor’s gaze. “Yeah, just, you know… morning sneezes. I think where the air’s gotten colder, my sinuses are more aggravated than usual.”

“Okay…” Connor says hesitantly, handing over the coffee, still frowning. 

__________

Since Felix’s school is on winter break, Felix spends the day at home while Connor works in his home office, a room that Felix still refers to as “Reggie’s Room” — even though Edna’s tarantula enclosure is also there.

Connor doesn’t see much of Felix during the day, since he prefers to maintain his focus on work  matters and Feilx tends to be distracting. In the evening, however, it’s impossible not to notice how Felix’s voice cracks and dips during their conversations. Connor also notices a faint pink tinge at the edges of Felix’s nostrils, as though he’s been wiping it too frequently.

They’re eating dinner at the kitchen table together when Felix suddenly snaps forward. “HEP’NKT’choo!”

Connor expects Felix had assumed he’d be able to fully stifle the sneeze because he made no attempt to cover. “Bless you,” Connor says, his brows furrowed. “I think you might be —” 

He doesn’t finish his thought before Felix interrupts. “Don’t say it,” Felix says, voice stern, though also unmistakably stuffy.

Connor gives a knowing smile. “Say what, Felix? What could I have possibly been getting ready to say?” Connor asks, feigning innocence. 

Felix glares. “I’m not getting sick. So, you can just…just… shut up,” Felix says, feebly, as he rubs at his nose with a paper towel.

Connor lets out a light laugh. “I never said you were getting sick.”

“Good. Because I’m not. I never get sick on Christmas. So it’s not happening now. There’s no way my immune system would let that happen to me. It’s just cold in here and it’s messing with my sinuses and my throat,” Felix explains, punctuating the remark with a sniffle.

“Your throat hurts?” Connor asks, frowning.

Felix’s eyes widen as he, presumably, realizes his accidental admittance. “Barely. It’s more just scratchy than anything. But… I’m … I’m fine,” Felix says, but he’s already diving back into the crook of his arm. “HEP’NKT’CHUH!”

Connor lets out a long sigh. “Bless you,” he says, his mouth forming a tight line. “I knew you’d get sick when we went to that germ-infested mall. And you never —”

“Connor,” Felix says, interrupting. “If you are about to rant again about me not wearing a coat, I’m going to lose it.”

Connor opens his mouth, then immediately closes it. 

Felix’s expression softens. “You can’t get sick from not wearing a coat, anyway. Babe, you know this.”

Connor sighs in exasperation. “Logically, yes, but … seeing you shiver and your teeth chatter… there’s no way it’s good for you. And you add that with you being adamant about going to the most germy place on earth during cold and flu season…. I told you you’d get sick, is all I’m saying.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Again — not sick. So, stop saying it.”

Connor lets out another sigh of immense exasperation before resigning himself to eating his dinner through a chorus of sniffles from Felix. __________

The next day, Felix is absolutely impossible to deal with. It’s the day before Christmas Eve, and it’s obvious Felix is coming down with quite the cold, though Felix won’t admit it. It’s an absurd situation; Connor knows Felix is sick, and Felix knows he’s sick, and Felix knows Connor knows he’s sick. Whenever Connor comes even close to mentioning it, though, Felix quickly dismisses the thought.

Felix is lying down on the couch, wrapped in a throw blanket, watching the original animated version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. “Half-watching” may be a more accurate way to describe what Felix is doing because whenever Connor looks, Felix’s eyes are only half-open.

At one point, as Connor’s doing some tidying up around the house, he walks in and sees Felix’s eyes completely closed. Connor stares at Felix’s sleeping form for a moment, before smiling softly and picking up the TV remote from the coffee table to turn down the TV’s volume.

“What are you doing?” Felix asks. His voice, though slightly congested sounding, still manages to carry a tone of obvious annoyance.

Connor freezes, then winces, turning the volume back to its original setting before placing it back on the table. “I just thought maybe you’d sleep a little better without the TV blaring.”

Felix continues to glare at Connor. “I would if I were sleeping. But I’m not. I was watching it.”

Connor blinks, then just sighs. This is the first time, since they’ve been back together, that he’s seen Felix sick. There was the flu last year, but that was an unusual circumstance. Connor suspects this is the first time he’s finally seeing the way a typical “sick Felix” behaves. Connor knows some people become more subdued and sweeter when they’re feeling unwell. This is, unfortunately, not the case with Felix. Connor’s usually sweet, cheerful, and kind-to-a-fault boyfriend has become replaced by a grumpy, stubborn, impossible to please grouch of a person. 

“I’m very sorry. I’d somehow forgotten that it was possible for a person to both have their eyes closed and still be able to watch a movie,” Connor says, rolling his eyes.

Felix continues glaring, but it’s impossible to feel intimidated by Felix in his current state. Felix looks as though the glare, alone, was enough to zap all hush remaining energy. Connor would almost describe Felix as cute, if it weren’t for the complete pain in the ass he’s been all day. Connor watches as Felix burrows deeper into the throw blanket, wrapping it more tightly around himself. Connor notices Felix’s feet sticking out due to the blanket not being long enough. 

“Honey,” Connor begins, hesitantly. “Would you like me to get you another blanket? Maybe one that will actually cover you?”

“I’m fine,” Felix predictably responds. “I don’t need you to — Ah ahhh AH’MmpKT!” 

The stifled sneeze sounds painful, and Connor can’t hold back his wince. “Are you sure you don’t need anything? Hot chocolate, tea, tissues…painkillers?” Connor asks, though he knows he’s only setting himself up for another irrationally grumpy response. “I don’t need anything. I just want to watch this movie without having to keep rewinding it to the parts I missed because you were talking,” Felix says, an uncharacteristic edge to his voice. 

“Okay,” Connor says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll just… uh, leave you alone then,” Connor says before leaving Felix to “watch” the movie. 

__________

The next day is Christmas Eve — the day Felix’s family celebrates Christmas together. Connor woke up with a tickle in his throat that didn’t clear even after several drinks of water. He reluctantly admitted to himself that he’s probably coming down with what Felix has, then made the decision to push the thought to the back of his mind and completely ignore it.

Felix has spent the entire day on the couch, much as he did the day prior. Today, though, he’s clearly worse. Unable to maintain the facade of being well, Felix has obviously relented to the necessity of needing tissues because, currently, there is a small wastebasket Felix must have placed next to the couch that is overflowing with them. He now seems to be under multiple blankets, nearly every inch of him being thoroughly covered. Not wanting to subject himself to any more of Felix’s illness-induced wrath, Connor’s been mostly avoiding him — leaving him to continue his marathon of overly played Christmas movies. Every offer Connor made to bring Felix something to eat was met with a glare and a muttered “I’m not hungry.”

So, now, Connor stands looking at Felix, who’s back to half-watching a movie — this time, it’s Elf. Upon Connor’s entrance into the room, Felix, red-nosed and bleary eyed, looked up, expression etched with annoyance. “Um,” Connor starts, feeling oddly nervous. “I just wanted to see if you were, uh…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you still wanted to go to your parents? I mean, we’ll have to leave in a couple hours if that’s the case. If you can’t — or, uh, don’t want to go for some reason, I’m sure your parents will understand.”

“I’b goid’g. I’b dot lettid’g a s’ball cold stop be frob edjoyi’ig Christbas,” Felix says, so congested sounding that Connor feels his eyes widen in surprise. Felix frowns, and seeming to realize the dire state of his nasal passages, he brings up some tissues and fiercely blows into them, quickly flooding them. “Ugh,” he groans, as he lets the tissues fall to the ground. 

“Felix….” Connor says, trailing off, not wanting to offend or upset Felix more than he already has.

Felix narrows his eyes, but suddenly his expression softens, then he sighs. “Ugh, Connor, you were right,” Felix says, sounding as though the statement was the hardest thing he’s ever had to admit. “I shouldn’t have kept touchid’g stuff at the mball and getting close to all those sdeezi’g a’d coughi’g people. I just… I dever get sigk at Christbas tibe,” he says, his voice still sounding incredibly congested, but also very small. 

Connor sighs and sits on the edge of the coffee table. “People get sick all the time at Christmas, honey.  It’s fine. I was just hoping we could avoid it since I know how much you love Christmas,” he says, making sure to keep his voice soft.

Felix’s eyes brighten at the mere mention of Christmas. “I do love Christbas! It’s by favorite tibe of the year,” he says with a thick sniffle — or more accurately, a snort. “Ad I was excited to fidally spe’d it with you, but buut hhhiihh! Hih! HIH-NKGGTxxxCHUH!” The sneeze is followed by a volley of harsh, wet coughs and a thick nose blow.

“Oh, Felix. I think… I think maybe we should give your parents a call. I know they’re excited to see you but…” Connor says, trailing off, gesturing to Felix’s pitiful state.

Felix snorts again in such a way that has Connor wondering about how much mucus his poor head is capable of storing. “No,” Felix says firmly, voice sounding slightly more clear. “We’re going. They made all this food basically just for me. I mean, Ben’s going to be there, too obviously, but It’s mostly just for me,” he says with another deep sniff. “And I don’t know if Ben would even want to go if I didn’t go. I mean, Ben’s known my parents almost his entire life, but… It’s still kind of weird, you know?”

Connor understands and figures arguing is useless, so he goes to get ready, while Felix takes another nap on the couch. __________

Felix had, ultimately, agreed, out of courtesy, to text his parents first, to let them know he was “a little under the weather.” Connor wasn’t surprised when they’d responded by telling him to come anyway, though Connor wishes they hadn’t. Felix is in clear need of rest, and Connor’s own state of health — while nowhere near Felix’s level — is getting worse little by little. His throat is sore in that foreboding kind of way that suggests the next couple of days are going to be spent feeling miserable.

They’re sitting in the living room, Christmas music playing softly in the background. Connor, Felix, and Ben are sitting on the couch, with Felix in the middle. 

“HMph’shooo! HMm’shooo! HEH-NGXt’choooo!” Felix snaps forward into his tissues.

If Connor had to make a guess, he’d say Felix was coming close to approaching 200 sneezes, today, alone. He’s positive that he’s never seen someone sneeze so much — especially Felix. It’s as though the cold has taken complete residence in his nose. Every time he opens his mouth to speak, he sneezes. During dinner, when he’d lift his fork to take a bite of food, he’d sneeze. When he sniffles, he sneezes. When someone brings attention to how much he’s sneezing —  which happens often considering it’s impossible to ignore due to the sheer frequency — he sneezes. After a fit of five or six sneezes in a row, that Felix barely managed to catch in a tissue, Ben commented on how Felix would be gifting them all with a cold this Christmas, and how that wasn’t ‘fair’ because Ben has been nothing but an amazing friend this year and deserved an actual gift. Felix had opened his mouth, likely to retort that he was giving Ben money for Christmas, as he always did, but instead… sneezed. Felix’s mother finally all but forced him to take a Benadryl in hopes it would help to, at least, somewhat alleviate the sneezing.

Connor watches as Felix leans back into the couch, his eyes closing. Connor isn’t surprised to see they remain closed. He figures with his body busy fighting off what sounds like an absolutely vicious head cold, and the Benadryl now in his system, staying awake would be a nearly impossible effort.

Eventually, Felix slumps farther down onto the couch, resting his head against Connor’s shoulder. Connor, instinctively, wraps his arm around him, ensuring he’s tucked closely into his side. Felix settles comfortably against Connor, and quickly, his breathing shifts into thick, though not particularly loud, snores. Melissa, Felix’s mom, smiles fondly at her son before spreading out a thick Christmas themed blanket that covers both Felix and Connor. 

“We can head out,” Connor says, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb Felix. “I know we were going to exchange presents, but I can just grab Felix’s or if you want him to open them in front of you, we can come back in a few days,” Connor suggests.

Melissa smiles. “No, let him sleep a little longer. We’ll go ahead and get everyone else’s done, then I’ll fix you and Felix up with some leftovers to take home.”

Connor agrees with this idea, and the four — he, Melissa, Ben, and Tom (Felix’s dad) —  spend the next hour talking while Felix remains fast asleep against Connor. There’s definitely drool on Connor’s shoulder, and if Connor’s being honest with himself, likely snot, but Connor doesn’t mind. He’s just happy to have Felix safe and warm against him. 

They exchange presents with Felix still snoring away. Connor, after completing the arduous task of trying to unwrap a gift one-handed, has to blink back tears when he sees Tom and Melissa had gotten him a series of books signed by his favorite author. 

“Oh my god,” Connor says past the lump in his throat when he sees the gift. “You didn’t… I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Oh please,” Tom says, rolling his eyes. “We were happy to. We love Felix, but it’s been nice to have someone else with us this year during the holidays,” he says.

“Um, excuse me. I’m here almost every year,” Ben says, which provokes a laugh from Melissa.

“We love you, too, Ben, but you already know that,” Melissa says, smiling, which seems to appease Ben. “You know,” she continues. “With Felix being an only child, and neither Tom nor me having any siblings, we really don’t have a lot of people to celebrate with, so we are more than thankful to have both you and Ben here with us,” Melissa says, her warm gaze fixed on Connor. “I know Ben is more than aware that he’s part of our family, but Connor, you realize you are too, right?” 

Connor’s throat feels tight, and tears are close to slipping from his eyes, but he gives a tight nod. Connor’s glad to feel Felix shifting against him because it distracts everyone, keeping Connor from having to actually say anything, which he’s not sure he could do through the barrage of emotions he’s being overwhelmed with.

Connor’s joy is short-lived because Felix immediately smothers his face deep into Connor’s shoulder and sneezes. And sneezes again. And sneezes some more.

He hears a mumbled “sorry,” before another wet “HEP-MPff’choooo!” is launched into his shoulder. Connor can feel the wetness seeping through the sleeve of his button-up. Felix finally lifts his head, his nose clearly struggling to keep all its contents inside, as he looks up at Connor. “I’m not feeling too good, babe hET-choo!” The sneeze sprays all over Connor’s arm, as well as out into the air he’s breathing, but the soreness in his own throat reminds him he’s already doomed. __________

The next day is Christmas Day and Felix is being absolutely destroyed by his cold. Gone is any pretense of being even slightly healthy. Felix tried his best to smile as he gave Connor’s his gift, but sneezed instantly three times in a row. The gift was a Star Wars LEGO set, since Connor had become interested in building LEGOs after Ben had left the Rivendell set over at Felix’s place last year. Connor wanted to tell Felix that “he shouldn’t have” and that it was “too expensive,” but poor Felix barely got a single breath in before his next fit of sneezes, so Connor figured it was a conversation they could have later. Then, he wondered if it was a conversation they needed at all. Felix clearly made the choice to spend his money the way he wanted on Connor, and Connor should accept that way of Felix showing his love. Connor still has to remind himself daily that he’s worthy of Felix’s devotion, even though every fiber in his being still tells him he’s not good enough. He decides to happily accept the gift — or, at least, pretend to happily accept the gift. He put on his biggest smile, said “thank you so much, sweetheart.” Felix, in turn, smiled and said “I love you heehh— ” before he was consumed by another fit of sneezing.

After Felix groggily opened his gifts from Connor — two personalized and intricately designed wooden sign posts reading ‘Edna lives here’ and ‘Reggie lives here’ for the terrariums he’d ordered online — Felix stumbled off to bed and buried himself under his comforter and blankets.

Connor is stunned to see that, though it's only noon, Felix has already gone through an entire box of tissues. The evidence of the last box is scattered everywhere. Connor goes to fetch a new box from the hall closet, and sighs before he takes a few for himself. Setting the box down, he covers his nose with several tissues as he blows productively. His throat is still sore, and his head is beginning to throb. His body yearns to curl up in bed beside Felix, but he has too much to do.  With Felix completely out of commission, Connor is taking it upon himself to bake the snickerdoodle cookies Felix has every Christmas. Connor knows it’s the process of baking that Felix enjoys the most, and not necessarily actually eating the cookies, but Connor wants to provide at least a little bit of normalcy for Felix this year. After handing the box of fresh tissues over to an already sneezing Felix, Connor makes his way to the kitchen.

When Connor begins making the cookies, that’s when his own sneezing starts. 

He adds the cinnamon, then quickly turns his head. “HET-SHIIEEWWW!”

The sneeze forms a germ-laden cloud. Connor closes his eyes and groans. The last time he was sick, a year ago, he’d had sneezes just like these — wet, forceful sneezes that were impossible to prepare for. He’d been hoping it was that specific flu that elicited the type of sneezes, but now he’s worried his body has just developed a new way of sneezing. 

He returns to his cookie dough. All he has to do is mix everything together, then spoon them all out onto a pan. This is definitely a simple enough task that, even with a cold, he can complete.

As he begins mixing, though, he once again has to jerk to the side. “HEETT-SHIEEWWW! HaDT’SHIIEEWWW! AHHH aHHH APT-CHOOOO!”

He stays at the spray splattered counter, then rubs his temples. Fatigue is setting in deeply and merely standing is enough to make him want a nap. All you have to do is finish the cookies, he thinks to himself.

He pulls off some paper towel roll and blows his nose, then goes to wash his hands. When he returns to the bowl of cookie dough, he sniffs deeply, then snaps forward in more uncovered, spraying sneezes. HADT’CHOOOOH! ATCHOOOO!  Ahhh Ahhhh hhhh AHHH? AHHHHH! AHHHHH AHH-ATCHOOOO! ATCHOOOO! ATCHOOOO! HEP’choo! T’choo! Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo!” His nose is pouring and tears are streaming from his eyes. He grasps the counter, his chest heaving. “HAAAAHHHHHHHH HH HHEHHHH! HAD’TCHOOOOOO! AP’CHUUUUH! AP’CHuuuuh!” His breath is still hitching, but he makes a desperate attempt to blow his nose anyway. As soon as the paper towel touches his sensitive nose, he’s exploding into it. “AADT’CHUUUUUH! HEHH’SHHHHTTTTT!” With some alarm, he realizes he can’t stop. “HADt’chooo! EH’TCHOO! EH’TCHOOOOO! EfftksHHHOOO! K’shooo! K’SHOOOO! K’SHOOO!” 

With the room spinning, and his face positively streaming, he stumbles over to a kitchen chair to sit down. His breath keeps hitching, as if in preparation for more sneezing, but finally, after several minutes he’s able to breathe without triggering a sneeze.

He wipes his nose and eyes with more paper towel. He looks down at his phone and sees he has a text notification from Felix. 

Felix: You and that cold of yours (that I may or may not have accidentally given you 🙄) need to come to bed NOW. 

Connor sighs at the text. Well, it’s obvious that the absurdly powerful fit didn’t go unnoticed by Felix. Connor types out “I’m fine — the cinnamon just got to me.” He stares at the text for a long time. He thinks about how much he’s grown since he’s been with Felix — how much he’s grown because of Felix. 

Felix doesn’t want you to be perfect, you idiot, he thinks to himself.

Felix loves you — not any kind of meticulously curated version of yourself. He loves YOU.  He’s shown it time and time and time again. Don’t undo a lesson you’ve worked so hard to learn.

Felix LIKES your sneezes — likes seeing you vulnerable. So, for fuck’s sake, stop being so ridiculous. 

The thoughts are loud and hurt his already compromised head, but he decides that this time, he will listen to them. So, he throws out the bowl of thoroughly sneezed on cookie dough, then makes his way to Felix’s — to their — bedroom. 

__________

It’s a Wonderful Life plays in the background as Connor rests his aching head on Felix’s chest, as Felix runs his fingers through Connor’s hair. This is not something they do often at all — Connor typically is the one holding Felix. But Felix wasn’t having it today. His exact words were “It’s Christmas and I’m dying and all I want is to play with your hair so you better let me, Connor, so help me —” Then he, predictably, sneezed all over the place. Connor doesn’t want to think about the amount of sneezes this specific position has subjected him to. It’s not like it matters, anyway. He’s sneezing his own head off already.

“Thank you,” Felix whispers, suddenly.

Connor startles because he’d assumed Felix was already asleep. “For what?” he asks, confusion clear in his voice.

“For not fighting with me about buying you the expensive LEGO set. And for not pretending you weren’t sick when you so definitely are. And for letting me do this,” Felix says, running his fingers through Connor’s hair again. “And just for… For finally letting me show you how much I love you without putting up a fight,” he says, voice soft.

Connor considers Felix’s words, but suddenly he has to sneeze and there’s no time to plan where to let it out, so he muffles his face in Felix’s chest. “HEH-MpSHHH! HEH-pffTTshooo!”

When he finally raises his head, he’s mortified to see very visible wet spots on the comforter.

“Oh my god, Felix, I’m so sorry,” he says quickly, but when he sees Felix’s expression, he feels his brows furrow. Connor can’t determine quite what Felix is feeling, but it’s evident he’s clearly not upset or even slightly grossed out. There’s something else there that Connor, as hard as he tries, can’t identify. 

“That was so hot,” Felix says, staring at Connor, biting his lip. 

Connor looks at Felix for a long time before shaking his head. “What?” he finally asks.

“You heard me,” Felix says, gaze entirely locked on Connor’s.

“I thought… I thought you said my sneezes were cute, not hot,” Connor says, feeling confused as he continues thinking and finally looks up at Felix and says “Felix, do you — do you have a thing for —”

“What if I do?” Felix asks before Connor can finish. 

Connor blinks, then continues to stare. “Then… then, I fucking wish you would have told me before now. I wouldn’t have tried so damn hard to hide them from you! Oh my god, we could have had so much fun,” Connor says, as he considers all the opportunities lost.

Felix throws his head back and laughs until he sneezes —  “HEP-NGT’chuuh!”

“Ugh, I hate my own sneezes, though,” Felix mutters, wiping his nose. “And really, anyone’s except yours, for some reason. And also, babe, we still have plenty of time to still have fun,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Do we?” Connor asks, a smile playing across his face.

“We have all the time in the world. Or, well, we have as long as you continue loving me, I guess.”

Connor’s face breaks out into a grin. “Then that is a long time.”

Felix laughs. “Do you promise?” he asks as Connor settles back against Felix.

“Do I promise to keep loving you for a long time?” Connor can’t help but laugh. “Felix, that’s literally the easiest promise I’ve ever had to make.” 

With that, Felix seems satisfied and continues playing with Connor’s hair, while Connor thinks about how just two years ago, that statement would have been impossible to say.

But, now, telling Felix he’ll love him for years to come — well, now the words feel as simple to say as breathing. 

____________________

A/N: Thank you for reading if you made it this far! If you'd like a more in depth look at just exactly how sneezy Felix was during the Christmas dinner, you can read about it in a short one-shot here: A Sneezy Little Christmas

[doctorstrangereview]

0123: Defenders #15

Cover Date: September 1974 On-Sale Date: June 18, 1974

Woo Hoo! Nighthawk gets a nifty new outfit this issue, after his last one got blown off his body by an exploding melty laser. Fortunately, the beak is a huge improvement and the colors are much easier on the eyes. Our rag-tag non-team gets to fight Magneto and his merry band of evil mutants. Doc and Magneto are even duking it out on the cover!

Doc is giving new member Nighthawk a tour of the Sanctum Sanctorum. After dropping a few jokes that Doc doesn't get and hints about his snazzy new duds, Valkyrie picks up the cue and compliments him.

Val's identity crisis resumes and she is determined to leave the Defenders and find out who Barbara Norris, the body she's wearing, was. This is actually remarkable for this era. Barbara would most likely have been ignored. She was insane and just an extra body lying around for Valkyrie to posses. Life goes on.

Nighthawk wants to help. He can't figure out who Val is, but he can help her with the rather conspicuous winged horse. He calls a lackey and orders them to buy a riding academy with lots of privacy.

Val thanks him and they turn around to see Doc speaking to the empty air. Doc realizes he's the only who can see their mysterious guest so he uses his All-Purpose Amulet to shine some light on the situation. Oh look! It's Charles Xavier, founder of the X-Men!

Charley's usual lackeys are tied up so he needs the Defenders to sub in for him. Doc, of course, accepts on behalf of everyone present and then needs to recruit some muscle. In the form of the Hulk, naturally. The Hulk is confused by Doc's floating astral head, but obliges Doc by following him to the others. Fortunately all the present members can fly and manage to fly to New Mexico and not a very long time.

The gang meets with up with Charley just as the Hulk arrives. At this point, the readers don't know what this mission is and we're not sure if Charley has informed Doc off panel. As they prepare to enter the cavern in front of them, an giant orange cyclops (no the X-Man variety) emerges. Hulk requests he go away in typical Hulk manner.

The Defenders attack the beast. The beast wipes the floor with them, until Charley asks them to stop and reveals the monster is an illusion. Fancy that!

Charley is really looking like his physical inspiration, Yul Brynner, in that middle panel! The next attack is real and flattens the group as Magneto and his evil bunch come out of the shadows.

Magneto imprisons our heroes in a magnetic field. It's a little on the nose, but what else can you expect from the master of magnetism. Doc asks what's going on and why he's doing this. Magneto blathers something about a sleeper inside a giant bell jar behind him and then leads into a multi-page recap of an Avengers tale not long before the Avengers/Defenders war.

To make a long story somewhat shorter, in his encounter with the Avengers, Magneto was clobbered by the Vision and then Thor trapped him in a force bubble which was sent to the center of the Earth. Comet Kohoutek's passing made some tiny change to the force bubble allowing Magneto to break free and find his way back to the a cavern. Naturally, this cavern contains the remnants of some loss civilization, because we don't have a story if it didn't. It even has a library with books that are bound just like modern publishers do. He's even managed to decipher the ancient language with absolutely no frame of reference. Well, Mags is a genius after all!

He reunites his brotherhood of naughty mutants and then reveals what he's up to: making a home grown mutant.

Charley communicates with his substitute heroes telepathically and next we get a full page panel of them escaping. Yay!

Magneto calls his band of naughties together to protect him and we get a large panel of the stand-off.

The Defenders don't fare wall initially, but the tide starts to turn when Hulk realizes that Blob is rooted to the ground, so he removes the ground. Doc then counters Masterminds illusions with his own illusions and we get an old classic, lots of Docs!

Charley manages to set off Nighthawk's jet pack who then crashes into Lorelei taking her out. Unus grabs Val who realizes that he has lowered his forcefield and Unus becomes touchable. She tosses him to the Hulk who is happy to have something else to punch. It may all be in vain as Mags has turned on his homegrown mutant.

The premise was more promising that what was delivered. Perhaps part two will be better. The promise of the cover didn't deliver. It showcases Doc and Mags facing off, but we don't get that. I am intrigued by these two battling. They are incredibly powerful, but can magnetism and magic counter each other? How would one defeat the other. At least Len realizes the Hulk is smarter than most people give him credit. He may not perform brain surgery or solve the unified field theory, but he is capable of deducting and reasoning.

The story is a level above ho-hum. It's entertaining, but not great. I'm hoping for more from the conclusion.

[mortalityplays]

these people are never going to forgive us. and we don't deserve to be forgiven after this

I've been trying to think what the narrative of this new century will be like, for future generations. I feel like the 20th century had a fairly clear arc of cause and effect, almost like a story you could tell, and I was imagining the 21st would just have "chaos all the time as the planet boils until we die" as its headline. But I feel like I'm seeing the arc of the 21st being written and it's a lot more bleak than I ever imagined.

I understand what you mean. I suspect every generation feels like this, thrust into conflicts we were supposed to have outgrown and too small to affect the scale of change we feel gestating in our chests. My grandparents grew up in WW2 and expected that to be the last true era of atrocity they would have to fit into their mental landscape. They didn't cope well with the bitter complexity of the politics they inherited as adults. My parents lived through the tail end of the cold war, and my mum has told me often about the senseless nihilism they felt, even as they chained themselves to fences outside nuclear bases and smuggled news back and forth to friends behind the iron curtain. Everything could be snuffed out any day and it didn't matter. As a kid I was dimly aware of ethnic cleansings in Rwanda and then Kosovo, and I was 11 when I watched planes hit the world trade centre. I spent my teens protesting the Iraq war — around the world it's estimated there were around 36 million of us — and I watched all those efforts come to nothing at all.

The good news (I promise this is good news, in a sense, for the moment we're living through) is that narratives in history are an illusion. 'History is written by the winners' is trite, but it’s somewhat true. It might be more accurate to say history is written by the survivors. For as long as we survive, I think the most important role many of us can play is as witnesses. When we look at the 20th century in retrospect, we naturally hunt for lines of cause and effect that can explain the multivarious stories that survived to reach us. Those explanations are how we exercise agency over situations we couldn't change, and how we express the aspirations we're left with. And despite the way it looks after we've settled on our own retrospective storylines, they are never static or unchallenged. We are forever workshopping the moral of our own stories.

My point is, the present is the sharpest edge of history. It hurts, it sucks, and I don't think it has ever made sense. Making sense isn't something history does by itself, it's something we do to it. So if there is anything at all that we can do as petty nobodies far away from today's conflict, it's pay attention. Listen, watch, record, remember, and be active and loud in the process of deciding what each new fucked up day means. It's not enough, but it's not nothing either. I'm sorry it's like this.

[jazzy---j]

CC3... and just my problems with sjm as a whole.

Soooooo, yeah. that was a bit disappointing. I wanna start off that due to the problematic nature of SJM I wanna make it clear I no longer financially support her. When I first began reading her books I was in high school and didn't know much about whose books I was reading. Most of it was just pick up a book, read the summary, if I liked it I bought it. But now as an adult who is on booktok and all the other bullshit (it's a whole mess) I can see all of a book and author's pros and cons and be like, "nah, I'm not doing that." And you know as a black woman, I cannot just be and do what I want and damn whoever it may impact or the consequence. I don't get to live in that world. I feel like I have somewhat of a responsibility to not contribute to the harm that the world already does to marginalized people around the world. That's just me personally, black people are not a monolith and this way of thinking doesn't apply to all of us.

Anyway all that being said, I am a book reader who is invested in whatever story they are reading and want to know what happens. So I read CC3.., but was sailing the high seas while I did it if you know what I mean. And let me just say... yikes. The problematic things that SJM does in real life and all that those issues mean really do shine in this book. I mean I always knew white authors have different experiences than me so I don't expect something that caters to me when I read their books but, idk sjm makes all the problematic things just so apparent. And it's just generally hard to read. There can't be any separation between the art and the artist in this one guys. I'm a political science and history major in real life so I spend my time studying political theory and structures of power in historical contexts. Hopefully, I can work to better understand those structures in our current present and with my intersection of activism (I am very passionate about that in my day-to-day) work to make a better world for marginalized people. So when I read SJM, I see some very troubling themes in her work. Themes that can perpetuate misogyny, racism, and imperialism. And it just makes me queasy reading it. It's not fun for me to read that. The way she used the oppression and discrimination of people as a major plot device, that the heroes have to defeat but in real life be ok with taking a birthright trip is just... a type of cognitive dissonance that I can't even put into words. and don't think I forgot the Breonna Taylor incident that she still has on her Instagram. if you don't know what I'm talking about look it up on TikTok, many black book readers have created multiple videos explaining that whole situation.

Now some people may be like, "What the fuck are you talking about. I don't see any of this." And like that's cool maybe because of what I'm studying I just see it everywhere. But I just have not been able to shake this ickiness in my gut about her work. The most thought-out example of the problematic nature of her work that I have is the description and characterization of the Illyrian people.

Now the way she physically described the illryians is as brown-skinned, with dark hair, and brown or dark eyes. This does put them in a very racially ambiguous position but to describe them as brown-skinned makes me picture brown people who in real life are racially recognized as black and brown people. People apart of brown communities are usually Southeast Asian or Arab people. They are marginalized in real life through various forms of oppression displayed in orientalism perpetuated mostly recently by the United States in the last 30 years (the war on terror, but this behavior goes back so much further). The Illyrian people's cultural characterization coupled with their physical description aligns with the negative aspects of Orientalism. Literally, the illryians are described as "backward", "barbaric", "slow to change", and stuck in timeless, old antiquated traditions that encourage the abuse of women and children. Sjm describes an indigenous people (she makes it clear that the illryians are native to the night court and nowhere else) as "savage" culturally, in their interpersonal relationships, and communally. That is just described as inherent to the people (except for a couple of characters who are "the good ones", or "not like that" and lucky enough to get away). Culturally they are described as being constantly in a state of conflict, preparing for and/or enjoying that conflict. I'm so sorry but that is Orientalism, literally the definition of how Orientalism was used to justify the colonization of the Middle East and parts of Asian during the colonization period and again when the western powers and the United States had a vested interest in interfering politically and economically in the region in the last couple of decades. That same language was used to describe the people of the Middle East and justify their oppression in the West. The exact same words. I did not understand the connection until I took a Middle East: politics and society class about two semesters ago and again that same language was used when we were learning about Orientalism. I went back to read some of acotar again and I saw all of that in relation to the illryians and I was like, "oh, oh no." I really don't know what else to say. To me, the relation is very very clear and makes my stomach just drop when reading it.

And the thing about it is it did not have to be this way, SJM did not have to characterize them like that. There is no real narrative function of this characterization, they are not the bad guys of the story or the main antagonist. In fact, the main characters need them to actually defeat the evil. SJM at the base made an interesting indigenous group of people that could have been a unique culture in her narrative landscape and added to her world-building. Instead, she wrote harmful stereotypes about vaguely racialized, marginalized people that directly mirror a marginalized group of people in the real world. Now was that her intention or just the subconscious influence of Orientalism in our society coming out without her awareness? I mean i cannot confirm from the horse's mouth that this is the case right? She has never actually said this. But her stance on current world events that are happening right (Palestine and Gaza strip) does not give me a lot of hope that she is completely unaware. But either way, this can hurt people in the real world. In the book, because the Illyrians are characterized the way that they are, the main characters are put in a moral position of opposition, that is the the dynamic. And to me, that dynamic is hard to read knowing what I know and what actually happens in real life to people that the Illyrians mirror. it begins to be super easy to just live in that moral opposition that can stripe away people's humanity and value. Azriel's contempt for his people and desire to destroy Illyria and the culture is a good example of what happens to these groups in real life. This is just one example of things in her work that can be problematic.

And listen I'm not writing this to tell you to stop reading her, to tell you what to do with your money, or who to like/support. That is not my job. I just wanted to share some of my thoughts and give whoever is reading this food for thought. And hey I might be reading too much into this, and just going way too deep. It is just hard for me to enjoy her work anymore knowing and seeing what I see. I can't really ignore that icky gut feeling.

And hey do I think sjm is a good writer? Eh... that is a whole other blog post. I could go really deep into her world-building, story choices, and what I think might just be lazy writing. But there are some aspects that I do like and are unique. But guess what? The fandom's fanfic writers are the light in the tunnel in this situation. As they often are in other fandoms. they take the actual cool and fun things that SJM created and build on them in a way that does not negatively depict the representation of real people. In a way that is not narratively disappointing. In a way that is just fun for everyone to enjoy. Free of charge they express their talent because they love to do it for however long they want to. Fanfiction is an amazing system that I hope and pray won't get messed up. Like one of my favorite creators @separatist-apologist posted about last week, "I think no matter what happens, we've all spent so much time reading fic and developing headcanons that whatever SJM does isn't going to live up to the fantasy we've created...". And I for real felt that and I just wanna shout out to all the fic writers who make this space fun despite all the fandom fuckery and SJM fuckery.

@separatist-apologist, @thehaemanthus, @the-lonelybarricade, @moodymelanist, @ablogofsapphicpanic, @vidalinav, @vikingmagic33, @c-e-d-dreamer

There are more that I probably missed. So you know thank you guys for making things fun and giving me something to read that doesn't give me an icky feeling when I read.

So yeah, thank you for coming to my ted talk. this turned out to be hella long but you know once I started I couldn't stop. If you have any questions, my ask box is open. Again these are just my thoughts. you don't have to agree and I'm not trying to change your mind. I just needed to share this somewhere.

[system-of-a-feather]

(PUBLISHING OLD DRAFTS THAT ARE GOOD / INTERESTING; This was written in August 2022)

One of the things about being a system planning final fusion that I think a lot of people assume that is very incorrect is that we don’t really see ourselves as that distinct, or don’t have that elaborated parts, or that we don’t have very elaborate and detailed relationships with one another, or that we don’t have that much of a sense of individuality between parts and I think that comes from the idea and assumption that it would not be possible to consider the idea of all of us fusing if we did have that, but honestly? Our system is - and honestly has been commented on by a few people as well as very much in our own observation - to be still, even presently, very disconnected in the realm of self identity and individuality. 

A lot of our main and most elaborated parts have very distinct and differentiated identities, very distinct aesthetics, very distinct body language and decently distinct speaking patterns. A lot of the parts in this system have very unique relationships with the parts they communicate with that are long lasting and having a lot of history to them and a lot of the time, a lot of us actually do regularly forget that we are all technically “one person”. As it is, we are still very dissociated and - at least in the identity spectrum of symptoms / disordered traits - overtly disordered. Its only about once in a blue moon for maybe an hour does anyone ever get a moment of “this whole feels this way” and most of the time, I don’t think there is a single part in the system that could describe what our “one person is”. I don’t think that is even in our imagination range as it is.

With that being said however, I am able to say most of our parts are not really scared of it anymore. There are some parts - primarily trauma holders and EPs that we don’t talk about on here due to being vulnerable - that are somewhat scared about the topic, but the question of “who will I be” or “what if I do without XYZ” is just... not really something we stress about.

At this point, a number of our main fronting parts are “fused parts” or at least have taken on a part of an old part and I guess this is a topic I talk the most about as the oldest “fused part” in the system who has been pro-fusion for the longest, but many of us have either experienced it first hand or been close to a part that experienced it and very much have peace in the idea that by coming together, we become a much stronger, much happier, much more control and awareness of ourselves, and overall the feeling of a much more whole feeling individual.

Myself, Riku, and XIV have had the most explicit time processing the nature of each of our fusions (or at least have discussed it with eachother and the system) and I don’t think a single one of us would ever like to genuinely go back to being seperate or being just one of the parts that came together to make our modern forms. 

We were very very happy as separate parts, but we have found great peace, serenity, and ability to live and thrive when we came together. Fusion has been a very beautiful experience - even for me considering my fusion was under traumatic situations and did require me to do a lot of trauma processing to make the negative experience positive. 

Our system doesn’t very much fear the idea of loosing ourselves or loosing each other because I guess our system has deep personal understanding of the strength that would come from it and the trust in the strength that would come from it I guess outweighs our overall fear of the unknown and existential crisises. Whatever comes out at the end of it, would be a happier, more stable, more peaceful, more complete individual than any of us are individually - even if none of us feel incomplete.

All of us feel complete as we are now. We do feel as if we are just people, unique individual people and it would be really devaluing to say we are just “parts of a mental illness”, but I think between our experiences, we recognize that while we FEEL complete, that there is more that can be achieved that we are simply - by the nature of the disorder - unable to see and comprehend as separate parts and separate selves. 

So I am Lucille (2.0), I am a very elaborate and distinct parts and I have very deep personal memories with life and with some of the parts that I’ve interacted with. I have very specific interests, aesthetics, hobbies, mannerisms, philosophies, thoughts and feelings. I have my own goals and things I like and I hate. I think I am very much just as much of an individual as a singlet is, but I do know that one day - a future me or a future version of me, will likely look back at how I am currently and go “Good gosh, I didn’t realize that I was missing this. I didn’t realize how stuck I was as Lucille (2.0)” and that is completely alright.

I don’t know everything about myself. I can’t see my full picture. I am probably acting in a way that future me will look back and feel sympathy for the struggle that having a limited vision put me though. That’s okay because currently, how I exist works for me and it is part of the process. 

One day I will be a future me, that has healed and recovered and gained a larger view of myself and my whole picture, and I think that sounds like a great time and a beautiful moment.

[ghoostlystar]

Desabafo do dia meninas or, in other words, the result of being obsessed with a cartoon show. (Just a random rant about BlackHat and a theory around him btw)

Lately I've been a little obsessed with the Villainous cartoon, it started at some point this year when I decided to look for a Paperhat fic to read. I've known the show for a long time but I wasn't as connected to it before as I am now. I discovered one of the best fics I've ever read in my life and then I became even more obsessed with villainous, which lead me to spend a lot of my free time just consuming related content and with that, of course, another of the things I like most, theories, was not left aside. I found one that caught my attention, I found it really interesting but for some reasons it kind of consumed some of my peace, lol (Maybe given how much sense they actually make and the scary possibility of them becoming real one day).

Although they are really cool, I really hope they don't come true!!! There are two main points that make me desperately wish they weren't real: Personally I really like BlackHat as a mysterious being, with no "clear origins", as if he were as old as the universe, perhaps as an experience of existence as hopelessly free and unique from something that is just different from everything else, something that is inexplicably and faithfully unshakable and powerful. If we assume this in theory, I feel that my perspective on him may be somewhat compromised due to a factor that seeks to explore the possibility that its own existence has great vulnerabilities in aspects that are not very attractive to me and to a virtue (“ sacrifice something” —> regain great power) that is even less attractive to me. Of course, in and of itself, it doesn't completely erase my perspective, but for me it's definitely a bit of a water tester. In addition to something mysterious, which does not necessarily exist in the same way as us, it would be so different at its core that I don't think that one, I would be able to accept a “new” BH, and two, that I would be able to have that same vision about the BH that I have now. I like that version that the show provided in the beginning, this version of a classic style with a cold personality and short temper that expressed to me a faithful form of what I already consider as “BH”. Not saying that I wouldn't like his complexities not to be explored, on the contrary, I hope they will, I just wish he was the same BH that was presented to us at the beginning and not a different one. Depending on the “different” it won’t be the same BH, it won’t be the same thing.

And two, I don't want the BH we know to die, so assuming the theory would be correct, we would have to say goodbye to him and I simply can't.

Adding, as I have presented part of my vision of what I consider “BH” to be, I truly believe it would diminish it, or reduce it to something that feels very human. This “exchange” type of relationship (giving something to receive something, as in nature, in human relationships, demons and other already known beings, seems to me to be a certain perspective that I did not want to apply to BH, which I consider as something that does not should be limited by such rules, especially when they and their parameters are already so much a part of “our world”, if I believe him to be something like “outside of our world” or something “not limited by our world” apply rules of our limitations don't sound right to me... Like, you're only powerful because you sacrificed something in return... Yeah, it doesn't seem right to me...), it seems like a lot of what we already see in several other programs, almost like a cliché. (Which in general isn't bad, but in this specific aspect I hope the show doesn't assume it's true in relation to BH).

Anyway, it was just a rant because for some reason, this theory made me more afraid of the future events to come, maybe I got attached to the character too quickly...

[bookishjules]

sizzy slut! analysis, am begging <3

the song -> "slut!"

first of all, the contents of this song in contrast to its title perfectly reflect discrepancy between the confident, somewhat promiscuous, untouchable isabelle our girl presents herself as and the softer, more romantic, and even at times insecure izzy that simon knows her to be.

additionally, "slut" is most often used with an amount of disdain and disgust by people who don't approve of the sexual habits of a woman. as a shadowhunter, any time isabelle pursues a relationship with a downworlder, she no doubt receives looks and comments that express such distaste. we don't know for sure if she was with any mundanes before simon, but there's no doubt she would have received an equal, if not worse, response. a not small reason izzy does pursue these kinds of relationships is because of the shock value, but we see how, in dating simon, it became more than just about choosing him because he was someone her father wouldn't approve of, tho that fact remains the same. it's very much in line with the idea of this love and this relationship being hidden beneath a label given by people who don't understand the half of it.

now, for the lyrics themselves..

Flamingo pink, Sunrise Boulevard Clink, clink, being this young is art

these lines are giving so much personality in the casually unapologetic way that isabelle goes about life. and the "clink, clink" line, especially given its position at the beginning of the song, makes me think of magnus's party in cob. just vibes all around. dancing and probably kissing and accidentally being turned into an actual rat? art.

Aquamarine, moonlit swimmin' pool

the first line here uses two words that call to other sizzy-coded taylor songs. "moonlit" -> glitch's "blood moonlit" and "swimming pool" -> paper rings' "icy outdoor pool." there's this idea here of jumping in no matter the consequences, of seeking each other out in the night, which they do on multiple occasions. and of course, there's simon's nocturnal nature as a vampire. when you think of swimming, too, there's this idea of weightlessness, that's tied by the time or season to privacy as well. i've always seen simon and isabelle as being these very buoying sources in each other's lives. and maybe that's just relationships in general, but we see this recurring theme of them being the only ones who can talk to the other in hard moments. it's in cog after max dies, and in lbotw much later on. this, of course, ties into the next line.

What if all I need is you?

there are so many ways this question can be asked. introspective, accusatory, pleading, fearful.. it makes me think of the thoughts that must have been going through izzy's mind before she showed up at simon and jordan's apartment in cols, of the conversations simon has with himself when he's trying to figure out if he loves her (both in tmi and tfsa). with the push-and-pull nature of their relationship, with izzy's fears and simon's inexperience.. there's no way this question, or similar ones, didn't often filter through their heads.

Got love-struck, went straight to my head

if we take this to indicate a level of overconfidence, it fits well with simon in cofa, thinking he could continuously date two girls in the same friend group. it could also be something like the dizziness of a headrush, or like the high after drinking someone's blood, or having your own blood drunk? especially if you're attracted to that someone.. which of course calls straight to cols. there's also the idea of love going to someone's head in a spiraling about said love feelings way and/or taking them to Rational Jail, where they will be dissected. the way izzy does this push-and-pull with simon throughout the series is really an outward representation of what's going on in her head, as she starts to have these feelings and then tries to find someway around that weakness by sending them to her head rather than being confident with her heart.

Got lovesick all over my bed

again we have this image of izzy coming to terms with her feels for simon. i imagine her laying in bed wishing he was there and wanting to throw up because who is she?? and the first time she does reach out for him and tell him to come to her while she's in bed, she's drunk, which can, of course, lead to sickness (honestly i wouldn't be surprised if she actually did throw up some time between leaving simon's apartment and him arriving at magnus's, considering how much she'd drunk and how quickly)

Love to think you’ll never forget Handprints in wet cement

there's something so new and fresh and tentative about the metaphorical handprints being in wet cement, rather than cement that has already dried to form their shape. there's the possibility that someone will come and screw it up, that they won't be able to hold onto this time together. izzy herself is unforgettable; she's a force of nature. simon, on the other hand, may very well believe himself to be so, and i bet izzy wanted him to be forgettable after she found out about him and maia. but he wasn't. even so, as they press their palms into the wet cement, they know there's a waiting period, this "are we permanent?" question that perpetuates.

Adorned with smoke on my clothes Lovelorn and nobody knows

i imagine this as isabelle attending simon's shows, watching from the shadows, the smoke from other people's cigarettes getting on her, and she's just looking at him, a total goner. but no one there is gonna notice--she's too good at hiding her more vulnerable side for that. this could work in the cofa era, but also post-edom, when she may have gone to his concerts just to see him.

Love thorns all over this rose I'll pay the price, you won't

calling back what i said about the title, this could be referencing the idea that izzy is gonna be the one looked at negatively for dating simon, rather than the other way around, though simon does receive plenty of teasing for having so much love for his shadowhunters. i think more likely is the internal struggle i've mentioned before. there are love thorns that have grown around isabelle's rose.. because of her history with love, because of her parents.. and i think to a certain extent, she feels it would be a bigger price for her to pursue simon than the other way around. it hurts to hold her heart out to him in a way simon himself is unfamiliar with.

But if I’m all dressed up They might as well be lookin' at us

this line is so isabelle. just, like, the essence of her. she's always dressed up, and she has no problem with being the center of attention. so of course she'll be confident and proud and let people see her and simon together, even when she's not wholly sure of where her heart lies.

And if they call me a slut You know it might be worth it for once

see my initial rant about the title. i do think there's a little more here too, though, with the "might be worth it." might be worth izzy giving her heart up for realsies. might be worth taking their time.

And if I'm gonna be drunk Might as well be drunk in love

the fact that two very big moments in sizzy's relationship happened while one of them was drunk just makes this line that much sweeter. izzy drinking too much because she's coming to the realization that she really really likes simon, that night ending with them sleeping in the same bed together for the first time, and then simon calling up to isabelle while intoxicated and telling her he loves her for the first time. so it's not just drunk in love, but drunk and in love.

Send the code, he's waitin' there The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

as i said before, there's a recurring set up with sizzy where one comes to the other's aid or comfort, where they just know what the other needs. it's this idea of understanding the code the other is sending. beyond that, though, there's also something like a code in the name of simon's band in the epilogue of cohf. i just think of izzy looking down at the flyer, reading "the mortal instruments," then looking up at magnus, and then across the way, where simon is waiting in front of his school.. and the sense of hope and relief and anticipation that would have come over her. and maybe it's more prescriptive, but i do think there's a level of time-stoppage in those moments, of being careful where to step or else everything will come crashing down and she'll be left with the heart-breaking force of the previous six months slamming into her once again.

Everyone wants him, that was my crime The wrong place at the right time

yes, we can relate this to maia wanting simon as well in cofa, but i think it would be remiss not to mention the amount of people who want him for other reasons--raphael, camille, maureen, etc.--a vampire, a daylighter, bearer of the mark of cain.. immortal. asmodeus wanted his immortality. and simon gave it and his memories. i think when considering this a "crime," it would have been, to izzy, a crime against her herself, against her image, an infiltration of the walls she's built up. she put her heart on the line, put her faith in simon, not once, but twice--something she would chide herself for when the smoke cleared after edom

And I break down, then he's pullin' me in In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

it's the way simon can tell when she's breaking down, knows to be there for her when others would have just let her seclude herself or bear whatever weight silently. and he might have been a boy when they started off, but he also has a lot of gentlemanly qualities. he respects izzy. he appreciates her. he thinks she's beautiful in a way that goes deeper than the curves of her body. and izzy has dated enough boys to know the way simon sees her, the way he treats her, is something special.

Got love-struck, went straight to my head (Straight to my head) Got lovesick all over my bed (Over my bed) Love to think you’ll never forget We’ll pay the price, I guess

i know this is mostly a repeated line, but i want to reframe it in the context of simon actually losing his memories. the resignation in "i guess," and the recognition that they're both paying the price. simon has to forget. and izzy has to remember. and this time when izzy is love-struck, it's a headache, a pain that would leave her caught up in memories and what-ifs. and then the sickness comes. for simon, it's the absence of these memories that leaves him spinning. why does he feel the spot where love should be without knowing what it should be filled with?

Half asleep Takin’ your time in the tangerine Neon light, this is luxury

this makes me think a lot of their first time in angels twice descending when they have the whole night to just be with each other. there isn't a war going on, no danger right around the corner. they've fallen together again and they can finally take the time to appreciate that. it's a luxury, because it's something, during those first six months after edom, izzy would have thought was something they would never get to experience together at all. if we wind it back a bit, this also makes me think of the nights in magnus's apartment, when taking their time meant more.. in the grand scheme of their relationship. they were falling back into step still, after the fallout of cofa, and it was a luxury just to spend the night wrapped in each other's arms.

You're not sayin' you're in love with me But you're goin' to

because of the time sizzy did take to get on their feet as a bona fide couple, and because of izzy's realtionship with love, these words hold.. a lot of weight. there's a sense of expectancy here, an understanding from simon that isabelle is in love with him even though she can't quite say it yet. but there's also something cheeky about it, like izzy knows it's only a matter of time before simon says he's in love with her, because how couldn't be be?

Half awake Takin' your chance, it's a big mistake I said, "It might blow up in your pretty face" I'm not sayin', "Do it anyway" (Do it anyway) But you're going to

i can see isabelle having a conversation like this with herself. it's a mistake to keep hanging out with simon because she can feel him sneaking under her defenses. but that's not going to stop her. but there's also "you're a heartbreaker, isabelle lightwood." simon knows he's taking a risk by giving his whole heart to izzy. he's been told multiple times she would walk all over him or that she would break his heart, but again, he doesn't let that stop him. because he does love her. consequences be damned

[fullmetalnihongostudy]

why do shiba inus exist in amestris?

so, it's established in Canon that black hayate, riza hawkeye's dog, is a shiba inu, as proven by this screenshot on the fullmetal alchemist wiki

specifically, hayate looks like a black and tan shiba. however, this does raise an important question. the shiba is a specifically japanese dog, so what is one doing in Amestris, which canoninically seems to be modelled after Central Europe? This can only imply that Japan and Amestris have enough of a cultural connection that it's natural for the Amestris state military to casually have a Shiba on the premises.

Why is this? It's known that Xing (modelled on China) has somewhat of a connection, but it's not huge. We don't see a huge amount of Xingese characters walking around Amestris and it's specified that culture and knowledge systems are separate enough that Ed and Al don't know much about alkahestry so obviously there hasn't been much cultural exchange between East and West.

There are a few options:

• Amestris has been trading with Japan for a while. However if so, why do we not see more of this and how would Fuery, who originally owned Hayate, have had time to hunt down a presumably rare and expensive dog when his life is preoccupied by the military

• the Amestris military has actually had contact with Japan for a while, either as allies or enemies

• there are a few links with japan but not very many

What else does Black Hayate's presence imply?

If the events of Conqueror of Shamballa accurately indicate that Amestris exists in a parallel universe where alchemy developed instead of technology, it figures there are equivalents to many things in our world.

In fact, the time period is quite ambiguous. Canoninically it's 1800s BUT some of the tech we see in Father's lair is a lot more advanced. So is it possible there might also be more modern things from Japan?

If this technological blip is the case, and if a Shiba Inu is present in pretty much a similar form to those in our universe, does Amestris also have equivalents for the following?

• much doge, such wow

• dogecoin

• Mari the asshole shiba who keeps squirting random liquids on his owner?

• lovely muco? we see ed and al waving, of all things, the imperial japanese flag at the homunculi to bring them out of hiding. So does the empire of japan exist in canon? what's it's attitude to alchemy? were the homunculi responsible for it, as they were responsible for military activity in Ishval, and is this why the flag worked on them? why does Japan seem unchanged when every other location from our world has a vaguely different flag and culture?

• if Japan exists unchanged, do the Amestrians get any of their media the same way we do? Anime and manga didn't come to the west until the second half of the 20th century, but tbh, as time periods seem a little bit skewed in Amestris. Are there alchemists who sit listening to radio broadcast versions of say, something like death note, where alchemist!Light Yagami is bumping off anyone he sees guilty of misusing alchemy or something? Who knows!

And, if something like dogecoin does exist in the alchemical equivalent to cryptocurrency - say, a group of clandestine alchemists, whether decent (ish) like Doctor Marcoh or scum like Shou Tucker would be the ones who use it - are there rules on transmuting it? If Ed crossed to our world like he did in the WW2 era in Shamballa but ended up in the present day, could alchemy have contributed to the boom in dogecoin that happened?

Hiromu Arakawa, I want answers

[lets-talk-about-the-dreaming]

For all the time since my Chrysalis I've been contemplating the Seelie and Unseelie courts, more from a moral perspective than anything else. Today I've come to an unusual thought, regarding Seelie Code as I know it. I'll be using this part of C:tD as reference, so if you don't see the Seelie as it is described in C:tD universe, you might as well not read this post to minimize the misunderstanding! If you do feel comfortable with me referencing to it, or if you are just curious to take a glance on my point of view, then feel free to continue.

(TW: this text will be referring to such themes as religion, hate, banality, discrimination and revenge.)

Now, I've been thinking about one particular "tenet" — "Never forget a debt". My human side, raised in human morality and somewhat close to Christian concept of forgiveness, never sitted right with this tenet. It was protesting, saying that a debt is a choice, a contract that can expire and sometimes even be neglected. That we aren't obligated to hate the hateful and harm the harming.

And, well, it resonated. I have thought of it as a problem, not as a conflict of natures. How do one incorporate forgiveness into the "eye for an eye" policy? It hit me only today, so that's the reason I'm writing this post.

Let's start from the far, almost as far as we can. Trust me, we'll need a deep dive here. What is a fairy? A being (I think, just hoping you'll be on it with me) born of creativity and Glamour, a dream incarnate. The very nature of a fairy depends upon powers of belief, of emotions and fantasies. True be the word that our existence may predate this of a human, and may even precede the wery Earth we live on. Yet the times changed, and now the vast majority of beings populating this planet are not-so-firmly connected to the Dreaming; moreover, most of them even see the concept as something hard to grasp, let alone accept. This, by all means, does not mean that they are to blame — after all, there was, and maybe still are reasons why humankind at large rejected the wondrous and embraced the mundane, dividing those concepts. But it presents us with the harsh reality. Denizens of Dreaming retreated deeper, and those who remained assumed guises.

But... Why did we persist on staying here? What made us stop at the golden gates of Arcadia and turn our gazes towards the world that we inhabit to this very day, despite all the dangers and hardships? I think I might have an answer, deep in my heart, and if this answer is right, then it might as well be in yours.

We stayed because we are needed.

Every being is needed in some way. I can't say why exactly we are needed, but there may be a mission given to us by Tuatha, or, perhaps, just a long-forgotten oath. Whatever it is, it makes our presence here meaningful. And to me, the meaning is in preservation of the Dreaming itself. Why else would we leave Arcadia's reaches? It definitely has a room for everyone, it is not confined by "space" and "time", the very act of exiting it is ridiculous due to what you miss by doing so! And yet we were here and not there even before the Banality was a thing. I am sure there are someone somewhere who can say that they left Arcadia after the Banality influx, purely out of spite. Purely to fight it off.

So, what is the deal with the "Never forget a debt" thing?

Banality is hate. Banality is refusal of accepting and understanding. It is a following of the main lane, where only vibrant colors are traffic lights and store signs at best. Banality is a distillate dogma, the mundane, the faith in all that opposes opportunity and discriminates the unique.

Hate itself is a good fuel to it. Banality feeds off hatred and intolerance, of despair and compliance. And when you lash out on some deeply lost person that tries to spread the hate — you comply to the rules of force they serve. Mind you, not their rules. They don't make the rules, they abide by them, like an appendage abides the command of a brain. Trying to fight the appendage is like trying to cut the head of a hydra — you'll only summon more hate and oppression upon yourself.

So, here's the solution: teach. Think of a hateful person as if they weren't taught to operate their empathy and emotions, as if they were never taught on how to hold a spoon or what are names of things around them. Imagine what would happen to the force they serve if they were to understand what they are doing? It's as if the appendage rises against its body, separates itself and becomes something more than a part of system. Every head cut like that is cauterized, it won't grow back.

I know, it's tempting to just mark people as half-wits and oafs, but it would bear no fruit at best. Retreating to think about a fitting and explanatory answer to a hateful (and therefore false, inherently contestible) statement is never bad; separating yourself is making their task of segregation and opression easier.

What is for an "eye for an eye", then? Oh, well, just think about how they would feel if they truly understand what they've done and what they have been doing. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and the remorse is ice-cold indeed. Just make sure to offer a chance to repent and some warm guidance afterwards; I beg of you not to leave anyone freezing in this harsh Autumn World.

[vickyvicarious]

We all rose early, and I think that sleep did much for each and all of us. When we met at early breakfast there was more general cheerfulness than any of us had ever expected to experience again. It is really wonderful how much resilience there is in human nature. Let any obstructing cause, no matter what, be removed in any way—even by death—and we fly back to first principles of hope and enjoyment. More than once as we sat around the table, my eyes opened in wonder whether the whole of the past days had not been a dream. It was only when I caught sight of the red blotch on Mrs. Harker's forehead that I was brought back to reality.

Jack, and others

I feel a wonderful peace and rest to-night. It is as if some haunting presence were removed from me. Perhaps ... My surmise was not finished, could not be; for I caught sight in the mirror of the red mark upon my forehead; and I knew that I was still unclean.

Mina

Mina has been bright and cheerful all the evening. So much so that all the rest seemed to take courage, as if infected somewhat with her gaiety; as a result even I myself felt as if the pall of gloom which weighs us down were somewhat lifted.

Jonathan

You know what all this sudden cheerfulness (though less so for Jonathan, who is upset about leaving Mina out) reminds me of? 1 October:

With [the rats'] going it seemed as if some evil presence had departed, for the dogs frisked about and barked merrily as they made sudden darts at their prostrate foes, and turned them over and over and tossed them in the air with vicious shakes. We all seemed to find our spirits rise. Whether it was the purifying of the deadly atmosphere by the opening of the chapel door, or the relief which we experienced by finding ourselves in the open I know not; but most certainly the shadow of dread seemed to slip from us like a robe, and the occasion of our coming lost something of its grim significance, though we did not slacken a whit in our resolution.

We know from Mina and Renfield that this is around the time Dracula left Carfax and went to the asylum. Or, to go back even further let's look at Lucy on 18 August:

Lucy is ever so much better. Last night she slept well all night, and did not disturb me once. The roses seem coming back already to her cheeks, though she is still sadly pale and wan-looking. If she were in any way anæmic I could understand it, but she is not. She is in gay spirits and full of life and cheerfulness. All the morbid reticence seems to have passed from her,

This is the day after Dracula left town. And actually, Jonathan even did it a little yesterday (4 October) as well:

Already the certainty that the Count is out of the country has given her comfort; and comfort is strength to her. For my own part, now that his horrible danger is not face to face with us, it seems almost impossible to believe in it. Even my own terrible experiences in Castle Dracula seem like a long-forgotten dream. Here in the crisp autumn air in the bright sunlight—— Alas! how can I disbelieve! In the midst of my thought my eye fell on the red scar on my poor darling's white forehead. Whilst that lasts, there can be no disbelief.

Every time there are other reasons you could choose to ascribe this mood to. Lucy not being drunk from, the rats and smell being gone, people getting undisturbed sleep, or even the characters knowing that Dracula is no longer in the same country as them. But at the same time, I kind of like the reading that his presence/proximity causes a sort of emotional weight that is alleviated by him leaving. There's a downside in that the experiences feel less real/present when he's gone (unless there is evidence to prove otherwise) but it is mood-lifting in a way that is equally as if not more instinctive than just conscious cheering up.

[asherlockstudy]

Hey! Im a recent anon and I wanted to react to what youve been discussing with the anon who agrees with you. Personally, Ive had phases about what I believe about Rhett and Link and the nature of their relationship. I have found the idea of these two attractive, weird, charismatic, creative men being into each other quite appealing, but I dont think Ive ever truly believed it without the help of fan speculation and overinterpretation of giffed moments. Especially after the reveal about their religious background… Without the fan content to feed the nice fantasy, I go back to the presented reality of their unique, brotherly friendship. You believe something that is extreme, even within a tumblr fandom that fixates on the idea of them as a couple. You do you, I dont even have to tell you that! What I find frustrating, just for me, is that I can’t easily refute your view. But I really do believe, without much doubt, that theres nothing between them, like they’ve repeatedly said, and, moreover, that theyre just not physically attracted to each other, despite the moments that may be interpreted as flirting (or… as mind-in-the-gutter banter, you know!). The one thing that I could concede is that, if there is any kind of sexual tension between them, it’s mostly subconscious or repressed, and they don’t want to explore that and only feel comfortable with their current, deep, but platonic friendship. I think that your interpretations, the ‘signs’ you notice in their videos, while beautifully packed with meaning, are not necessarily there. But once again, I can’t really prove it to you, and I find that frustrating. It’s about what feels like a plausible conclusion, an ‘inference to the best explanation’ as philosophers would say. My current opinion is a conventional one, but certainly not within the tumblr fandom, which is full of people that seem to at least believe that there’s something there even if not acted upon. I just think that their interactions could be what they say they are: two lifelong straight male friends connecting, having fun, learning about each other and the world, performing for an audience, often winding each other up, showing us their strange humor, their fascination with awkwardness and love of silly innuendos. And here we are, chronically misinterpreting it to maintain our delightful fantasy, a fantasy shared by many other fandoms built around two apparently straight men that have good chemistry, by the way. This is what I think is happening, and Im not going to judge, because as I said, the fantasy is really nice. As for the overarching themes and methaphors you have identified in their scripted content… I think alternative interpretations are definitely possible. The digging a hole video, for example, might be about collaborative endeavors in general, about the dramatic structure that is still exciting without normal dramatic content, about the joy of absurdist concepts and doing things just to do them, together… not the specific situation you imagined about them wanting to come out of the closet eventually, and navigating their relationship. I have to say, I was impressed and entertained by your interpretation of their puzzle video. I also think that there’s a lot of basic ‘if our characters did this somewhat suggestive or odd thing this would be funny’ reasons behind their scripted content… and not necessarily the cohesive story about viagra that you believe has happened to them. I think that sadly, they might be more boring or random than what you give them credit for, as far as cleverly hidden messages go. But yeah, I dont know how we could definitely know who’s right about this... If they never come out as you suspect they are planning to, if they stand by their no-homo claims, would you give up on your theory, or do you think there’s a chance that, in your worldview, they might never ‘fully come clean’, rendering both our theories basically impossible to prove or disprove? What do you expect from the TV show they’re going to release, for example (sorry if you already shared that before)?

Hello, thank you for analysing your different perspective in a polite way. I have been having a lot in my mind these days and I delayed answering. I was about to explain why I support some things regarding the videos and the puzzle video but somehow in this crazy world I didn’t answer before the brolinoscopy episode and I feel like R&L answered for me before me in this video!

After 9 years, Rhett brought up the reference by saying “you can even find missing puzzle pieces inside rectums”. It’s not even the first time they suddenly bring up the puzzle video after a silence nearly a decade long. Link as Sandy had a small puzzle tattoo in the Brown Diamond too. But today’s insinuation was so much more straightforward. As you understand, after this development, I am once more convinced I cannot find a more suitable explanation than the one I had in the puzzle post (the viagra thing might be a stretch or made up story by them but I stand by all the main and crucial points I made there). And that reference is generally nothing compared to all the things Rhett (also Link) said (supposedly I guess, but wild if true) incoherently in the brolinoscopy.

However, I do not intend to make an analysis here, neither do I plan to try to convince you, I am kinda over that in general and I don’t want to push something down the throats of people who find it unlikely or uncomfortable. I have figured out some people consider me extreme and… it doesn’t resonate well with me. If I am proven correct, will I have been extreme then all this time? Of course I will definitely keep doing my own thing in my original posts but I don’t want to try to change anyone’s mind anymore. Therefore I am curious - you said it is frustrating that you can’t refute me. Is this about me (I don’t think I matter, I am just an anonymous randomer blabbing potential nonsense) or is it about the possibility of Rhett and Link truly being more than friends? Or is it just because you are so convinced you are right that it would be frustrating to be proven wrong? I would understand that last sentiment (I am often the same way), less so if it’s a case of any of the former two scenarios though.

The only thing I want to stress again is that for me all my ships have started as an observation and then some became a pleasant fantasy. I have never liked a ship because I liked the idea of it first and then tried to force it into my reasoning and conclusions. It has always been the opposite with me - I see cues I consider very clearly there and then I decide whether I like that ship or not. Which is why I never liked fanon ships. Save for the Sherlock fiasco, I have a record of 100% canon ships and 0% fanon or slash. In fact, I almost have a personal aversion to them, idk why. As for Sherlock, the entire fanbase was essentially proven wrong and it wasn’t that we were all wrong but that apparently something happened and bombed this show and they wrapped up one season earlier than intended with enstranged actors . Still, many many fans were sure there was no case the show could end like it did and waited for another season. Not me. I realised the plot and show was bombed for good and I was done with it very quickly. I was proven right. I am saying all this only to explain that this “aw it’s a nice fantasy I am having so now I am misinterpreting gifs” is not representing me accurately. I was perfectly happy with Rhett and Link as platonic friends and I would be very happy with this image in my mind forever. I value deep friendship and, you know, being loyal to your spouse extremely. It’s just that it’s been quite a few years this is not the image I am getting from them at all. Of course I could be wrong but even if I am, it’s not because I try to make my fantasies reality out of nowhere.

I agree many people misinterpret gifs. There are gifs and gifs though. And some leave very little room for misinterpretation.

Regarding your question, I do doubt from time to time that they will get on with it. But then shit like today’s happens. There is always the chance that they will get scared for good before the end. But since November-December, I think something has shifted inside Rhett and he has made his decisions. But who knows. I definitely think there is a possibility they never come out, not even in the show they prepare, and keep hiding forever but I consider it a very very very small possibility. I could also eventually give up on my theory but for this to happen, there’s a shitload of undoing they would have to do first!