#cus it just reminds me of my inability to have that

[j4nn4s]

.

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

For the ask game! 16, 20, and 32! (If someone already asked for one just replace it a random one!)

It's okay! ^^

16) Most likely, yes. Firstly, they seem to clash rather bitterly with some servants. Seihai and Kiyohime get along quite poorly, because Kiyohime reminds Seihai of their own delusional past. They wish for Kiyohime to accept reality-no matter how cruel it is; because they believe that if Kiyohime does that, then she can hopefully stop projecting Anchin onto people. But Kiyohime despises that greatly, and believes that's none of Seihai's business! Also, Seihai will definitely clash against authoritarian figures and Columbus...They have a really hard time with authority figures (lol)

So yeah, the people who Seihai fights with are ones that remind them of past foes or their own past self. Which means that they REALLY NEED TO DEAL WITH THE PAST. LIKE NOW.

20) B-bruh...I'm sweating right here...You definitely defeated me with this question. Generally, I don't think there is anybody that they love more than anything in the world, because well; they're not sure if there is anybody like that out there for them. They do have some friends, family and stuff that they love a little bit though.

However, there's is this one guy they have a crush on ;) But it's EXTREMELY ONE SIDED!!! Seihai has vowed to die with these feelings, and won't tell a single soul about them. They prefer if things stay that way, because they are a cowardly person. And they know from personal experience just how awkward things become if you confess at the wrong time, or if the secret gets out...they would love to avoid that kind of chaos.

The truth is that my fav servants in fate series are the Cu Chulainn. So you betcha that my mastersona would have a crush on at least one of them. Probably a huge one. But alas, such feelings may never be returned.

32) Themselves. That's it. Seihai is burdened with many regrets from the past. They wish that they had the power to do things differently, to stop running away from their problems and face them head-on. It's because of their inability to accept reality that they ended up the way that they are today.

[puppy-phum]

thank you once again @yibobibo​ for tagging me ♥ even if, like I said, this is pure torture. I have so many sons that I’ve given up on counting them sigh but here goes.

favourite male fictional characters.

I took it that this meant ten so am going with that (tho am not gonna try and put them into order). am also sticking to all the characters I loved this year. and gonna ramble and add gifs so cutting it here. 

1. Liu Sang

The Lost Tomb Reboot/Reunion: The Sound of The Providence

I have so much love for this boy it’s not even healthy. it’s a bit funny tho bc once I started tltr, I didn’t really like him and almost forgot about him as the first season ended. he just felt so annoying and bitter in what I saw him, even if I did get that he had a Tragic BackstoryTM (I felt for him but well. tltr really made him hard to like at first). but then they brought him back in the second season with his sad puppy eyes and inability to handle his thoughts on wu xie and being all touch-starved and pitiful and whatnot and baam, I had the adoption papers ready. he’s wonderful and so strong and so smart and amazing. and liu chang as his actor has been wonderful (and he’s so pretty my god, have you seen him??)

2. Shen Wei

Guardian

never did I expect to just. fall into this hole after a year? I remember what a mess I was when I first watched guardian over a year ago, right after finishing the untamed. I was in shambles even as I knew how it would end. and now I’ve done this all again while also reading the novel and. my love for shen wei, especially bc it’s zhu yilong acting as shen wei? astronomical. I want to write poetry about him and his stupid responsibilities that he chooses to carry silently and his devotion to zhao yunlan and his love for his ppl and his didi and. I hope that one day I manage to write weilan bc I have this one idea and you can come pry it from my cold, dead fingers if it doesn’t get out there (am also super happy about the edit I made bc my god does he deserve at least that)

3. Cloud Strife

Final Fantasy VII

ok so stepping into the video games territory now. I was waiting for the remake like crazy and it was everything to me once the quarantine hit during spring. the game is so beautiful and I felt like I looked at this gorgeous boy once and was ready to give him my heart (tbh am quite sure he owned my heart before I even learned to know him). he is tragic in so many ways (I’ve only scratched the surface of all of his pain I know) and I wish I could just. hug him a lot. he is kind and cares very deeply even if he hates to show it and I love it how remake showed him also just being a human disaster (some of his scenes are just. peak comedy). I would kill for his smile (I have already cried for it a dozen)

4. Geralt of Rivia

The Witcher (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt)

if there’s one grumpy, brickwall of a man I love, it’s geralt. I affectionately call him “papa wolf” while playing witcher 3 and his voice in it does things to me (I am just so fond of him ok, begone you dirty fuckers). I got introduced to him through the books and adored him in them bc he is so prickly and sarcastic and still so full of love even if he will never admit to it. he is the father figure I wish I could have in real life. (and yes, I’ve seen the tv series (or at least a couple of the first episodes) and it looks stunning but. this is my version of geralt and that’s the hill I will die on)

5. Xiaoge

Zhang Qiling, Daomu Biji (The Lost Tomb 2)

(wow finding a gif for him was a pain, apparently I gotta learn how to gif or?) ah, my dear boy who I’ve ended up just calling xiaoge bc he seems to prefer it over his real name/title/whatever zhang qiling really is. I got introduced to him through tltr where we really didn’t get to know that much about him bc he was just... there. huang junjie was absolutely stunning tho and his soft smiles made me super fond, but only in the lost tomb 2 did I really fall in love with xiaoge as a character. I was surprised tbh bc I didn’t expect it to be this drama? I had so many doubts about the cast in tlt2 but they all delivered! and I think cheng yi’s xiaoge is now my favorite bc he somehow captured that softness and the pain of him? (and we do not talk about that buxun storyline tyvm) tho now that ultimate note is on the way, I gotta say that xiao yuliang does a wonderful job as xiaoge too!

6. Wu Xie

Daomu Biji (Ultimate Note)

(sorry we have to go with a pingxie gif now but maybe it’s only fitting) tbh it’s hard to choose my favorite version of wu xie. I think all of the actors for him have done amazing job showing wu xie in different parts of his life (all of them are very distinct but still feel like the same person) but currently zheng shunxi takes the lead. I really wanted to put the reboot version of him here (bc I love that mature, relaxed and somehow very soft version of him and the angst is phenomenal and the thoughts he has about death... yeah) but I already have zhu yilong’s face here once so :’D wu xie is just one of those characters you cannot not like. he is so strong, so kind, so stubborn, so wonderfully stupid sometimes and in need of careful protection. I also adore it how smart he is and I could listen to him spew history facts for 10 hours straight (even if it was in a tomb full of blood zombies) ♥

7. Jiang Cheng

Jiang Wanyin, The Untamed

my darling boy! my beautiful angry grape! I love him beyond words. I love him in all of his raging, misunderstood, stupid, sassy, constipated, abused, tragic, bitter, big hearted glory. I could write novels about him (and I did and am still writing oh boy) and his love for ppl and his inability to show that love and his loneliness and his issues. I could also write another novel for all of his outfits etc. bc damn, what a fashion king. he is just so great. he owns my soul. he deserves happiness and in this essay I will

8. Isana Yashiro

Adolf K. Weismann, K Project

I rewatched k project this spring bc a) it’s one of my favorite animes ever (it just looks stunning with all the colors) and b) I love yashiro to bits. I remember falling in love with him when I first watched k project many years ago bc he was just so kind and bright. this time though, I ended up seeing another side of him and my god did I cry. he is... so sweet. he cares for others so deeply and is ready to sacrifice so much for them and his love for his two clansmen... yeah. I think I finally saw the tragedy of him too, all the pain and loneliness and insecurity he decides to hide behind his smile and obnoxious personality. he reminded me a lot of myself and watching him made my heart bleed in a good way

9. Qi Tiezui

Ba Ye, The Mystic Nine

(wow am going to riot for the lack of all the gifs hhh) yes, we’re continuing with the dmbj universe that sucked me in big time this year. the drama of the mystic nine wasn’t probably that earth shattering for me as it somehow got boring more than once but I did love ba ye to bits. he was just... so nice? I got it that he was somehow this “comedic relief” in the drama with all of his funny scenes and ridiculous mannerisms but I could see the brilliance of him. he is warm and smart and kind of a romantic too and he cares for all of his friends so deeply? it was also sweet how protective of him his two zhangs were (does that run in the family? the tendency to imprint into one smart but disastrous man and keep him safe? maybe) and I really hope I knew more about him bc he seemed to have a lot of knowledge and a lot of impact to ppl’s lives (I yelled when they mentioned him in ultimate note, I miss him ;;)

10. Dorian Pavus

Dragon Age Inquisition

(yes I’ve been replaying DA:I this year, this counts!) another darling boy! my lovely sass master son! I have so much love for him and his story in DA:I. he is my favorite companion (and his romance is my favorite too, probably obvious in the way am currently romancing him for the third time) and he has given me a lot of strength. the way he stands up against his father, how he’s ready to reform his homeland instead of walking away, how he’s so caring for those he sees struggling... it’s very warming and I feel like I’m safe with him. it feels a bit silly to say that but he really is that comfort character I will seek out when I just want to know am doing fine :’) (and I am so excited to see him again in DA4! probably?)

+ 11. Li Cu

Tomb of the Sea

yes I cheated a bit (with my own rules lol) to fit li cu here. I didn’t really expect to like him or tomb of the sea as much as I did once I started it? I’ve seen leo wu elsewhere before this (battle through the heavens, nirvana in fire) and his face always makes me think about a sad puppy so maybe I just grew fond over li cu instantly bc he was... so hurt? the first episode really slaps you in the face with all of it, showing him being abused, wounded, kidnapped, tortured, used and then just very, very scared and broken. he continues being that throughout the whole drama and I feel like tomb of the sea (or sand sea or sha hai idk) is the darkest and angstiest story in the dmbj universe. I know it deserves to be bc this is a dark time for wu xie but... my darling li cu. I wish him only happiness ;; he was so strong and smart and wonderful in this and it was just so amazing to watch him grow and find his own place in the world just bc he did something himself (even when he got dragged into all of this bc of wu xie) also I support the wu xie adopts li cu -agenda

Honorary mentions: 

Zhang Rishan, Xie Yuchen and Hei Xiazi from DMBJ universe. The Twin Jades of Gusu and Ouyang Zizhen from The Untamed. The Iron Bull and Fenris from Dragon Age games. Thane Krios, Kaidan Alenko and Jaal from Mass Effect games. The whole lot of Assassin’s Creed protagonists (especially Ezio Auditore and Shay Cormac). Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch from The Raven Cycle. Neil Josten from All For The Game. Eduon and March from The Smoke Thieves. Qiling from L.O.R.D. Critical World. Luo Fei from Detective L (played by Bai Yu). 

well, with this I can really see that I have a thing for those who are tragic :’D I have a thing for grumpy, prickly and antisocial guys or those who hide their pain behind a smile. maybe it’s bc I am somehow both, even if I can’t show my anger or be mean to others and even if I feel like my smile never sticks either. I just find kinship in all of the characters who are on this list. and I feel like I aspire to be as strong and as kind and as loving despite all the pain I’ve been put through.  

thank you, this was so much fun! and sorry I made this so long and so complicated ^^’ but well, there are just way too many male characters I love haha

at the end I want to tag @i-am-just-a-kiddo​ @ashenwren​ @kholran​ @tiesanjiao​ @lan-xichens​ @aheartfullofjolllly​ @manhasetardis​ and @lzswy​​ ♥ feel free to do this in your own way or not at all! and thank you if you managed to read through my rambling :’D

[postedbygaslight]

The Problem With (Forced) Happy Endings, or, Why I Hate The Phantom of the Opera

Yesterday, I was messing around on here and suggested that I hated the way The Phantom of the Opera ended. Then, I got the following ask:

I thought I’d respond briefly, but then things got out of hand. So, @lushkitten1989, as promised, here’s way more than you bargained for.

There are many, many reasons to dislike Andrew Lloyd Webber’s monolithic Broadway musical, The Phantom of the Opera. So, I’ll dispose of some of the lower hanging fruit:

The story is dependent upon Christine being so naive that she doesn’t realize she’s getting music lessons from a guy behind a two-way mirror.

The phantom is a one-trick pony, defined almost entirely by his obsession with Christine. It’s never actually clear what he seeks to achieve by gaining de facto control of the day-to-day operations of the theater (other than merely being able to exercise that control— which may be the point).

Raoul is as interesting as a pet rock. He is unbuttered toast. He is Mom Jeans.

The music is intermittently great, but just as often annoying as hell (to me, for example, the “Angel of Music” motif is grating and uninspired).

Those are fundamental, but relatively minor complaints. Phantom has a lot of strengths. The chemistry between the Phantom and Christine is very pronounced, and, at times, shockingly blatant in its sexual themes. Some of the songs are timeless classics (“Phantom of the Opera,” “Music of the Night,” “All I Ask of You”), and some of the sequences, like the chandelier crashing down on the stage, and the ensemble pieces, like “Masquerade,” are very accomplished.

But where Phantom really shines is building a very genuine feeling tension between what propriety and social mores tell Christine Daae what she should desire, and what she actually desires. Phantom dabbles with Bride of the Monstrous themes, but never goes all in on them, and the result is a muddled, confused mess of a story— one that could have been very, very good, but wasn’t courageous or forward-thinking enough to capitalize on its opportunities.

See, the problem starts with Raoul.

Yes, wonderful, handsome, unthreatening, rich, devoted, patient, loving, convenient Raoul. The honorable Vicomte de Chagny, no less. He is our erstwhile Socially Acceptable Love Interest™️. From the moment he’s introduced, it’s clear Raoul is meant to be Christine’s white knight, swooping in to rescue her from obscurity. The plot contrives to have him coincidentally happen upon Christine, his childhood sweetheart, now a chorus girl at the opera house he favors with his parents’ fortune.

Now, I know what the Phantom fans might say: Raoul is here to allow for a juxtaposition of dynamics, placing him as an anchor point to which Christine can return, reminding her that she is more than the Phantom’s pet (or pupil, or lover, or what have you). But I’d counter that he’s really here to act as a stand-in for society’s expectations for how a well-behaved woman should conduct herself. Raoul is young, conventionally attractive, affluent, and, most importantly, chaste.

Christine’s connections with Raoul are explicitly drawn as being rooted in childish notions of affection. To wit, Raoul First greets Christine with a modified nursery rhyme she was read during their brief time together as children. He visits her in the soft-focus glow of her dressing room, showers her with praise, and proceeds to not listen to her when she insists she can’t go celebrate with him. More than that, he dismisses her objections with little more than a hand wave. The point is, he sees her as a child, and treats her as a child.

Look at what happens the moment he leaves her alone. She looks into the mirror, and runs toward the dark reflection behind her own image (heavy symbolism of Jungian animus here). From their very first physical encounter, the Phantom engages Christine as a sexual creature, and the difference in her reaction is, well:

Once alone with the Phantom, Christine is no longer the child so idealized by Raoul. She’s a young woman seeking instruction of a different kind from a strange reflection of herself whose instructions have suddenly changed from anodyne singing lessons to exhortations to “feel the music of the night.”

The next time Christine is with Raoul is when they share their duet, the excellent, “All I Ask of You.” I say excellent because, like other tentpole numbers featured in Webber musicals, the song itself is brilliant, but, in the context of the play, it’s less inspiring. This is rather like “Memory” existing in a pop culture space entirely divorced from its origin in Cats, and I’m certain there are a fair number of people who simply identify the song as a soaring Barbra Streisand number, rather than the mournful plea of a neglected alley cat.

“All I Ask of You” is preceded by Christine trying to tell Raoul about her fear of the Phantom, and her growing unease at the magnetic pull he seems wield against her. Raoul’s immediate and repeated reaction? Something to the effect of: “There is no Phantom of the Opera. You’re imagining things. Don’t be silly.” The song then drives this home:

No more talk of darkness—Forget these wild-eyed fears—I’m here, nothing can harm you—My words will warm and calm you.

The call and response Christine and Raoul have here is staged as a sweet love song. And it is. But it’s also a proposal from a young man to a young woman, where the man suggests she abandon her desires to exist as a sexual being, and come be with him, where he’ll act as her protector against such base instincts.

And this tactic works. Christine is not so frightened of the Phantom himself— she pays lip service to being horrified at his murderous tendencies, but seems aware he would never harm her personally— as she is frightened of her seeming inability to resist her attraction to him.

Raoul positions himself as a shield Christine can hide behind so she never has to grow up. He prefers her as the girl who enchanted him when they were both children, and he’ll go to great lengths to keep her innocent and doe-eyed. Is it any wonder that Christine doesn’t want their engagement to be public? (Yes, I get that Christine doesn’t want to risk the Phantom’s wrath should he discover their impending marriage, but the whole thing looks more like Christine being very unsure as to what she really wants).

Raoul, who seems to be the only person in the play who continues to explicitly deny the existence of the Phantom into the second act, is, oddly, the first to run for a weapon when the Phantom shows himself. He’s the one who pushes Christine to acknowledge (falsely, I think) that her attraction to the Phantom is nothing more than a side-effect of Daddy issues. He insistently pushes forward with a plan to permanently rid both the Opera Populaire and Christine of the Phantom despite Christine’s warnings that Raoul doesn’t really understand what he’s fighting against. More than that, Raoul insists that Christine offer herself up as bait, and to do so publicly, an overt expression of control, of making her choose her loyalties in front of everyone.

Let’s pause a moment here before we get to the inflection point of the play. What I’m referencing is, of course, the aptly titled “Point of No Return,” wherein the true nature of Christine’s relationship with the Phantom is made public. I want to talk about the Phantom.

Throughout the entire play, the Phantom is presented as a sympathetic figure coded to represent misfit and outcast elements of society. He refers to himself as a “loathesome gargoyle” and confesses to Christine that he lashes out at the world and makes others fear him because he feels it’s his only choice for survival. But he also confesses to her that he secretly dreams of love and acceptance, and being able to live as he is, free from the condemnation of the wider world.

Yes, the Phantom expresses his displeasure with being defied in very unhealthy ways, but here we are again at the Death and the Maiden trope, wherein our heroine is the only person who is able to see beyond the darkness that both conceals and protects the man behind the mask. Here, Christine should be acting as the Phantom’s succor, a balm to his constant pain, and, in playing that part, she is meant to end his curse, or blunt its effects sufficiently enough for him to find peace. And, in return, the Phantom ought to provide Christine with growth beyond her childhood, and, in this version of events, usher in her sexual awakening and facilitate her passage into womanhood.

And it’s all set up to do that, for those themes to be realized, by the time the finale is cued up. Then, everything just goes to shit.

The Problem

If you’re unfamiliar with the way The Phantom of the Opera ends, you may want to stop reading.

After Christine stops Raoul from killing the Phantom in the graveyard, Raoul and the other peripheral characters contrive a plan to lure the Phantom into the open and kill or arrest him once and for all. The plan is simple enough. The Phantom has written an opera (aptly titled Don Juan Triumphant), and has ordered it be performed with Christine as the lead. Everyone assumes the Phantom will strike during the performance, most likely to claim Christine as his bride (or something like that).

Now, I posted a little joke earlier about what happens before the plan goes into effect. Raoul goes to Christine to comfort her and prepare her for her role in the trap, but Christine is very nervous about it. She tries to convey to Raoul why she’s apprehensive about the whole plan, but, again, Raoul doesn’t get it, and insists that Christine is getting worked up for nothing.

Of course, what ends up happening is “The Point of No Return,” the high point of the whole play, where the Phantom sheds all pretense and makes an overtly sexual appeal to Christine. And Christine, who’s supposed to be playing the role of Don Juan’s paramour, reciprocates the Phantom’s ardor, resulting in a very, very sexy sequence between the two of them. All while Raoul watches from the Phantom’s favored balcony (Box Five), and something like this happens:

The Phantom speaks directly to Christine, saying:

I have brought you— so our passions may fuse and merge— in your mind, you’ve already succumbed to me— dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me— now I am here with you— no second thoughts— you’ve decided—

To which Christine responds:

I have come here— hardly knowing the reason why— in my mind I’ve already imagined— our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent— now I am here with you— no second thoughts— I’ve decided—

This whole time, while the call and response between Christine and the Phantom reaches its fever pitch, Raoul watches, and understands the depth of his miscalculation. More than that, he’s horrified and repulsed by this display of lust from his innocent Christine. The mere suggestion that she might be complicit in the Phantom’s passions is something that, it can be observed above, threatens to break his world apart.

Thematically, this mirrors Raoul and Christine’s mutual declaration of chaste love in “All I Ask of You.” Which is important, because once the Phantom and Christine have crossed the metaphorical and literal bridge that separates them, and are embraced for all the world to see, the Phantom expands his entreaty, shifting from the blood-racing heat of “Point of No Return” to a soft, pleading reprise of “All I Ask of You.” He wants Christine to know he doesn’t just want her body, that he doesn’t just view her as a possession. That he loves her, just as much or more than Raoul.

And here is where Phantom could have become something great. Christine breaks free of the intoxicant of lust for the Phantom and turns to face him. He is emboldened, and reaches a more confident crescendo, saying

Anywhere you go, let me go, too— Christine, that’s all I ask of—

But the Phantom never finishes his sentence. Christine makes her choice, for sure. She does this. In front of the whole world. When the Phantom is most sincere and vulnerable.

Now, I might have been prepared to forgive Christine this mistake if not for the scene earlier, when she and the Phantom were alone, and she tried to remove his mask. He lashed out at her then, and proceeded to explain his sensitivity to being exposed. He opened up to her and revealed his vulnerability. And, above, when the Phantom has finally allowed himself to hope that Christine’s affections are sincere and reciprocated, she betrays him.

It horrifies me.

For the rest of the play, all the sympathy the audience has been conditioned to direct toward the Phantom is inverted. Christine shows affection to him only to trap him. She even kisses him, leading him on again, for no reason but to quell his rage toward Raoul. Even after his beastly rage has subsided, Christine can only chide him for being monstrous in body and spirit.

This haunted face holds no horror for me now— it’s in your soul that the true distortion lies—

The arc presented for the audience— to sympathize with the Phantom, and to experience with Christine the fear and wonder that can attend the awakening of sexual consciousness, is utterly squandered.

But why?

Happily Ever After

The answer is as simple as it is disheartening: because Christine is supposed to end up with Raoul. Raoul is her destined love interest because the plot demands it, and no other reason. The two of them don’t grow as a couple during the course of the play. Their dynamic as they leave the Phantom’s lair is unchanged from the dynamic they presented when Raoul came to see her in her dressing room at the beginning of the play. Even after being forced to acknowledge Christine as a complicated and sexual being, Raoul elects to ignore that, and champions only freeing her from the Phantom’s corrupting influence.

To come to this point, Christine’s character actually regresses, choosing to retreat behind Raoul’s promise of perpetual innocence and naïveté. The narrative turns from one of growth and sexual agency to one that urges the rejection of what is unpleasant to acknowledge. Christine essentially chooses to marry the nice guy with the trust fund, stays at home to raise the kids and play the doting wife, and occasionally allows herself moments of indulgence to fantasize about the tall, dark, mysterious man she always wanted to fuck back in college.

To make matters even worse, the Phantom is abandoned to misery and solitude. His suffering is rewarded with more suffering. Christine leaves him without hope or promise, and the Phantom remains shrouded in the dark, pining for Christine for the rest of his life. Through trusting and hoping for acceptance and love, the Phantom is shown only the futility of seeking either. The way this plays out is deeply disconcerting, going so far as to set up a prologue and epilogue set fifty years later, after Christine’s death, with a grieving, crippled Raoul learning that the Phantom is still alive. This represents a casual erasure of Christine’s presence from the narrative, and, worse, diminishes her role to that of the object of the struggle between two men over a young woman’s emotional and sexual destiny.

This is an ugly, sad, wretched story. It’s not a story of yearning or forbidden love. It’s a story about rejection and denial of desire. It’s a story about choosing what society deems acceptable over the needs of the self. Moreover, it’s a story about being afraid and remaining afraid.

There is nothing affirming or beautiful about this story. And I fucking hate it.

[ericleo108]

Twitter Poems #1

May the flower of your mind Bloom with thought. NYU

May the Winds of Change blow your mind to action. May your love come and be Gone with the Wind. MIT

May the radio of your time reverberate the loving discontent in your confused cortex directing limbic disharmony with nature. NSA

May the return you seek be the return you need for the return you kneed from a return from grieves. A return to please A return it's to be A return we seek A return agreed. NASA

May you prosper may you shine May you electrolyte up your mind. UF

May the food that you seek. Be the food that you eat. Love is digestion, That's why you poop and you pee. UF

May you be strong and valued and act with Valor, Find the solution and spell Tales of love. EPA

May they sit in your chair and think of the love we share for your love is rare. I'm in Love and We Care. U of M

Educations the future And love is the present Work toward wisdom for betterment And Truth as the medicine. MIT

You call it a phone. I call you home. You call it fun I call it love. Taylor Alesia

I love your design to rise and grind With the power of broke harnessed in mind. Daymond John

May you find the key that you seek the love you reach and strive for peace. CMU

May you reflect in view love all anew See God and how he talks to you. UC Berkeley

May music help you rise, help you see inside, help you realize, and help Better Lives. Yale

Yo duh wonder woman, I love and follow you’z On another page to see a reel love a ruz I just wanna imbue headlines of the horror show Look down to see a shouldered reflection in row. Emma Watson

Communication command. Communication demand. Communication to understand. Communicate and take a stand. NASA

May the sands of time leave you well defined and the hour your Glass a shipped message fall light. NASA

I need you like I need green Renewable love brings, yes you are my queen You lost your voice, Ur salt a sing Your fair the well un aquamarine. Selena Gomez

May your internal health represent environmental wealth. May you share and help and live as your best possible self. UC Berkley

May you not assume that the algae that blooms Is healthy for you and good to consume. U of M

Movers and shakers may you be one that makes it live real not have to fake it Prosper profit and gain grit. UC Berkley

I see your struggle may your power rise. Achieve the potential you have inside. See your whole life through cherished eyes. May you strive to oblige for the love you design. Emma Watson

May the fellowship you arrange be a fellowship to engrave. If you make your memory last make sure you're right and to blame. Cambridge

Tobacco products are nice and chronic forms of having cancerous toxins. Model devour your puff so sexy Give it ye next, me snuff douth vex me. U of M

Explore the world through knowing eyes. May the one you seek be the one you like. May you find and dream of things to be. Be yourself and live what you please. NASA

See what you need to do is eat colorful Foods Love yourself in the food that you choose Eat your vitamins and minerals let food be thy medicine. Give yourself a Hippocratic Oath to what you let get in. NYU

May the accounts you manage be procured by a strategist that knows the material economy, finances and gravitas Of the American mirror mental disease. I wish you mind control in this world of green. MSU

What to do with life when you're already right with accomplished designs and what is time? Harvard

May the art you display be an Artful array Of art to debate About art on day lay. Yale

Most don't see the ice is melting. Most don't see their life as helping. Most don't know to change their ways. Most don't know they're torrid fate. NASA

May the Water of Life be the strength that binds you reflected to remind you of why you should find truth. Princeton

I know the distance is far but the wave the same. The coast of Sarasota reflects your brain. This is from 40 Eridani A "I love you. Control yourselves to play." UF

May you choose a career that betters you every year make better the jeer and Conquer your fears. UF

Congratulations on your pace. What's time and space? What's on your mind. Your date? What's the status of the case? UF

Use intuition as a scholar, aim for greatness. Matched with confidence education is a great gift New York University, scholastic appraiser Arrange your major and be a changemaker. NYU

I like your current description of currency encrypted It's preferred in business To the feds debt-base digits. NYU

Global convection Global Connection Global Inception Global Direction UF

The cost-benefit analysis is really quite radical. Your strategy is quite a tough road to hoe. Hope to you who spread peace and learn to know. The result Is Love from the seeds you sow. Harvard

Be the love you seek be the love to be may you love in glee and find that love is free NASA

Fast or slow may you drive to know may you see the grow from the seeds you sow. From construction roads To shoveling snow Let the days unfold And show your heart of gold. Rick Snyder

These girls are fly people. Play to win and Reach For Hope. Practice hard, reach goals. We rise. Go eagles. EMU

Although you may be displaced I hope you keep a smile on your face Your child and you safe And receive some love and love's grace EPA

May your inability Be met with great humility graceful agility And be what we want to see. Sturgis Journal

May you start a startup that changes the world and starts to stir up an overt allure To clean up the planet and heal all the hurt Better ourselves and put love for us first. CU Boulder

May the relationships you cultivate last for a lifetime and ring true to your life in the time that reminds. Princeton

May you find in space what you find at home but only better known and better for your soul. NASA

Give birth to your best And Have fun at earthfest U of M

When Catalyst crystallize in your mind's eye you idealize. I like the times you realize, are real and Revitalize. NASA

May you live well In real wealth Collective health inculcated in the self. EPA

I see the Love and Hope the story of a goal like the achievement that you grow to be courage you invoke. Harvard

Thank you for the dedication The reciprocal arrangement The receipt of your engagement To serve and research salient AAUniversities

I write my poetry like prose cuz I read and grow Learn to Crow I'm scared not to know Edgar Allan Poe MIT

If you fund education you receive knowledge in payments. A reciprocal investment to fund your engagements. AAUniversities

Heart world Heart girl Heart unfurl Heart whirl Dartmouth

How do you portray your life as a poet what love do you know and how do you show it She used to capture the world through punctuation now Dickinson has a show for communication Be careful with the mirror dear. Hailee Steinfeld

As You observe the asteroid with ocular gifts You ignore the plight of octopuses. They are both but of matter yet one has a soul Give a comparative measure for your sights on a goal. For what is love when U love a rock over the love of a being that you love not. NASA

The environmental report of what the environment absorbs Is environmentally divorced From the environmental recourse. EPA

I hope you cure cancer and stop the inflammation of the inflamed anger of deranged integration. I deal in mind control and you can make it. I hope you live a good life find love and greatness. AAUniversities

I hope you lead with valor, I hope you lead with Grace I hope my story makes you sad and you want to catch a case. NSA

Excellent. I love that brain of yours. Please focus on making energy sustainable. Take those electrons and rearrange the flow If applicable, redefine what it is you know. UF

The light that shines is a light that blinds to bring light in your mind to how you live your life in a bind. NASA

May the actions you take be renewable May you lead and make us see the chains we refused to know. May you take this life, plant love, and let it grow Circle climate and transportation whole. Cow farts. Princeton

Time is important, keep it ticking What's the matter with the wave in the Rhythm it's keeping. I love you in ways of continuous seeking. To infinity is how long my love is reaching. UC Berkeley

Brooklyn trees keep Brooklyn green so when the books you read are in a nook with peace. NYU

May the future you represent be solar electric I really must say it's a good investment. Think about the reflection in mirror the message Earth is the place we love our self with. NASA

Reference to All American jokes "in a rush." hope you keep well your Full House and you're flush I'm pretty, witty, gay & you're my crush May you teach peace, sow us, and spread love. Vladimir Putin

[jflashandclash]

Uncomfortable Crossings

Author’s Note:

               I had a request over half a year ago for Calex to interact with a certain goddess. It is shameful that it took me so long to write this! I hope you enjoy despite the wait!

               This takes place a year after the series’ last book, Fall of the Sun. This is based off the original ending, which has—since then—mostly changed. Mostly XD So… sort of spoilers?

Book IV’s chapter one (Will: A Stroll Through the Dark) should be released in the next week or two!) In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this short story about Calex :D

                 Each time Calex kicked, the football slammed directly into the goal post.

               Fortunately, there was no one occupying the field to see it. That’s why he preferred the field behind the Roman hypocaust. There was a car park for tourists on holiday and for the few museum staff with cars. But most locals preferred the scenic view by the lake or the fields by the ruins of the wall around the ancient Roman city of Verulamium. The hypocaust could seem a bit dull compared to the lovely sprawl around the rest of the park.

               Most of the emptiness was due to the weather. The temperature reached a record high of 31 degrees with 100% humidity. For most of Calex’s mates, this was enough to turn them into jelly puddles inside their flats, but Calex used to holiday in Liberia and had spent the last year in New York. Normally, he’d drag them out, whining and acting like babies, but he wanted to be alone today.

               That’s why he was utterly shocked when his ball bounced off the goal post, popped over his shoulder, then shot straight back towards the goal from behind him.

               And missed wildly.

               Calex watched his ball fly into the field at least fifty meters away. Calex blinked, wondering if a professional footballer had been airlifted into the field without him hearing the helicopter and if that professional was bolluxed out of their mind.

               “Oh! Sorry! Here, use my ball while I go grab that,” someone said behind him.

               “Um, it’s alright—” Calex turned to see the blur go past. He doubted the girl was as fast as he was, but she was certainly fast. As she darted after the ball, he saw her beautiful locks trail behind her. Something felt off about her gait—like her steps took too long to land on the ground.

               Odd, but, after learning he was a demigod, his life had been nothing but odd.

               She wore a blue and white jersey, one he should recognize. The name across the back said Karagounis in what Calex quickly recognized as Greek.

               He jogged after.

               Calex was in no mood to be polite or have a chat. At least she wasn’t attracted to him. The knowledge wasn’t anything self-degrading—Calex knew lots of girls fancied his looks. He was a son of Eros and knowing people’s desires came with the territory.

               When she reached the ball and turned to dribble back—long dribbles with little control—Calex felt himself gasp and stagger to a stop, feeling both shallow and self-centered about the previous thought.

               The woman was lovelier than anyone he had ever seen. That was a grand thing, considering his grandmother was Aphrodite and he stayed with her children, his aunts and uncles, last year. He knew lovely.

               She was maybe ten years older than him, in her mid-twenties, but the age made her more brilliant, like she’d suffered and aged but managed to retain her youth and merriment.

               Her hair was long and waved loosely from a mix of plaits in her ponytail. The color was indescribable. At first, he thought it was like his mate, Kally, a strawberry blonde. This was darker, a subtlest cross between red, blonde, brunette, with natural highlights and lowlights from all three. Her skin had a gorgeous glow to it, not quite UK pale, but pale with a hue that cued Calex to her ability to tan.

               Her face was perfect.

               He didn’t think that with any exaggeration. It was perfect.

               If Calex was at Camp Half-Blood, or by Mt. Olympus, he would have dropped right there to genuflect to a goddess. However, in the middle of St. Albans on a Tuesday, she might think it a bit odd or mental if he gave her the “all powerful” treatment in a football field, especially if she was just some poor women off the street who happened to practice beside a crazy demigod.

               “Sorry. It has been a long time since I played soccer,” she said as she evened with him. Her English was perfect with the slightest hint of a Greek accent.

               “Not a problem,” Calex said.

               She smiled in relief.

               He recognized that glint of relief and knew it was good he hadn’t dropped into an old fashioned grovel.

               There were times he had felt insecure when he entered a room, knowing everyone’s eyes were on him, and expecting him to be perfect because his father’s DNA made him look like he should be. Most of his mates in Britain could make jokes out of it, but, in America, he was uncomfortable when someone asked if he’d been in a magazine or some obscure BBC show, or when someone would point out, “Oh… you’re African American—”

               “British, actually”

               “—well, yea, but you’re black and you have light eyes.”

               Something about her look told him she felt something similar, a sense of humiliation due to the inability to avoid unwanted attention.[1]

               Calex swore, regardless of whether or not this woman was a goddess, that he’d treat her like a normal mortal.

               “That was an alright kick, Greece,” he said, “You’re sure to nail the net next time.”

               Her eyes were amber with flecks of blue and green. They were vibrant, like the rest of her. “I don’t mind failing…” She glanced at the jersey his cousin had bought for him. “Arsenal. Failing is half the reward of trying. How fulfilling would life be if you attained things instantly?”

               Calex thought about how he had failed to save his mum and brother from Thanatos, how Joey had died, and what had happened to Axel, Pax, and Euna after everything they’d gone through. “Reward” was an odd little word for it. His fist shook. He remembered the anger and dreariness that he’d come out here to ignore and that her beauty had temporarily disrupted.

               This woman definitely couldn’t be from around here if she was that much of an optimist. One look at Israel and you wouldn’t hear their prime minister saying, “Oooo! Sorry about that. Let’s try that again!”

               “Some things you can only fail once,” he said.

               His ball thumped gently into his foot.

               His head was light and ached. He felt like such rubbish that he didn’t want to look at her again.          

               “Pass the ball with me,” she said. “We’ll make a wager. If I lose, then I’ll concede that you’re right. If I win, then you’ll show me around St. Albans.”

               Calex had too many wagers in his life already, particularly ones involving a lot of death or undeath situations. While, in technical terms, his friends from Camp Half-Blood would call him a “lucky son of a respectable man since we would never say anything to upset Calex’s papi,” he wasn’t sure he wanted to bet his luck any further.

               “What’s the wager?” he asked.

               “I need to get the ball from you,” she said.

               Calex felt himself give a heartfelt laugh. “Not bloody likely.”

               “Then you have nothing to lose,” she said. “You’re already practicing, foolishly suffering from dehydration, and determined to hit the goal post instead of the net. So you might be better off reminding someone who is rusty how it’s done.”

                  Calex wouldn’t admit it if asked, but he had fun. This woman—Greece as he’d taken to calling her—had a contagious laugh, had no problem giggling over her own mistakes and making him chuckle at his own, was curious about every aspect of the game, listened to him talk about Arsenal for longer than the Queen could sit at a ceremony, and would excitedly interject with stories of her own. It was like everything was an adventure to her, every experience was fun.

               Calex felt like he’d lost that since he’d come back to Hertfordshire and left his friends in New York.

               She’d chided him into drinking some water. Like her beauty, her vivacity had shaken him out of his angst. Something about her put him at ease and felt familiar, like the coolest aunt he’d forgotten from childhood. Enough so that, when he was dribbling to their stuff to get another sip of water, he didn’t register what she was doing when she jumped in front of him, forcing him to stop short or knock her over.

               Calex stumbled to a stop.

               She turned and gave him a huge grin. “I got the ball from you.”

               “That doesn’t’ count,” he said.

               “It does.” She crunched her face up playfully. The more they interacted and the more he treated her like a typical bloke off the trolley, the more she’d relaxed into this playful, excited demeanor. “It does because you want to show me around. Come along. I’ll treat you to lunch.”

               They walked around the town. Calex showed her the stuff tourists usually hyped over: the Cathedral—at which she demanded they make a quick sacrifice to honor the cathedral’s god, something Calex found profoundly baffling[2]—the rest of the park, the clock tower, and some of the nurseries. He was relieved she didn’t ask to go into Verulamium’s museum, the place he felt like he knew better than his own home and whose staff he wanted to punch at that moment.

               After winding through the streets full of people exhausted from the heat, they ended up in Café Rouge, a posh French restaurant that Tiwa had liked. When he stepped in, looking at the checkered red-and-clear stained windows, his stomach dropped.

               When his mum was exhausted after a shift at the hospital, he remembered her coming here, sitting in the corner booth with the red velvet cloth, and ordering a tea and a chicken club croque. During summer holiday, when they weren’t at her clinic in Kakata, he would come here to meet up with her, Tom, Gretchen, and Winston when he could.

               The glass paneled roof made this place look and feel like a botanical garden, too hot, too humid, and on display for the gods to watch.

               Calex wished he hadn’t come here.

               Their usual waitress, Amelia, immediately recognized him and gave him a shy smile. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year.

               Although Calex had led them here without thinking, he turned to leave with a cough and a wave of parting.

               “There’s a good table in the center,” Greece suggested. She took Calex’s arm, like he was the one escorting her, and led him over to the table. She gestured at one of the two-seaters that was in a line of empty two-seaters and Amelia nodded.

               “Um—” Calex started.

               She sat down and Amelia hopped over faster than he could whisper, “I’ve been abducted by a beautiful woman, help!”

               “What would you like to drink?” Amelia asked.

               “Surprise me,” Greece said. She clasped her hands together, smiling at the tiny brunette. “And I mean it. Any price, any style, form mocktails to fiz. If you want, flip a coin between you and the other waitress and bring me out the favorite drink of whoever gets heads.”

               Amelia paused in writing something down to blink at Greece. Normally, he guessed Amelia would think Greece mental, but Calex assumed Amelia struggled with the same problem that he was: Greece’s contagious smile, her natural confidence, and startlingly genuine excitement that made him want to trust her. Normally, such cheer would make him think she was mad and here to rob him, the restaurant, the city, and likely the country of all of her goods. But, for some inexplicable reason, Greece’s demeanor kept putting him at ease and made him feel like this was the right time and place for all things to exist.

               “The usual for you then?” Amelia asked Calex.

               He nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Amelia.”

               She blushed. “It’s good to have you back,” she said. For a split second, Calex realized she’d thought about him without his trousers on.

               He cleared his throat, something he hoped she mistook for embarrassment at the comment.

               Amelia walked away.              

               Greece watched their interaction with amusement. “So, is it romantic love or familial that’s the problem?” she asked, leaning forward a little.

               Calex must have heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

               “Something has been bothering you all day,” she said.

               They went silent for a moment when Amelia brought them their drinks and took their orders.

               “Same? Surprise and usual?” Amelia asked, pointing her pen to each of them in turn.

               Both nodded.

               Calex tried to ignore that Amelia was systematically undressing him in her mind. Some days, he could ignore things like that. Today, he was struggling not to “listen in” on other people’s wants.

               She walked away and Calex tucked his scarf against his neck.

               “You’re quite presumptuous, aren’t you?” he asked while he sipped his tomato juice. He didn’t like the drink anymore and would have rather a Hoegaarden, but he hadn’t the heart to change things up on Amelia or find out what article of clothing would come off next time in her mind cinema. He would order it when she brought the food and would hope that each of his socks counted as separate pieces of clothing in her game.

               “You’re seventeen.” Greece shrugged.

               Calex frowned. He had to wonder if she knew it was his birthday or if she’d gotten a lucky guess on his age. Her question made his mind wander to what had upset him that morning.

               She shrugged. “And, it’s summer break, so you’re not worried about revision for A levels or entering sixth form.”

               Calex examined her wearily. Out of his new friends, only Axel and—dare he call him a friend?—Pax had known anything about his school system. Apparently the structure was similar in Belize. But was it in Greece? Was she actually from Greece?

               “Who am I going to tell?” she asked, mistaking the source of his growing suspicion.

               Typically, an innate sense of trust made him want to distrust people more, like they were looking to gain something. He felt a part of his heart give though. This woman gave him such an irrational sense of livelihood, of wanting to experience the world, and chat about the things he loved and scream about the things he hated, it made him lightheaded. And, had she not come by that morning, he’d have likely finished at the fields, and then locked himself in his room all day.

               “There is a girl,” he found himself saying.

               Greece gave him a lovely smile. “What is she like?”

               “She’s…” He thought about the times Merry had publically humiliated him. “Merciless. Yea, merciless. That one is.”

               Greece laughed, a fantastic sound. “And here I was, expecting ‘beautiful’ or ‘intelligent.’”

               “Oh, she is. Quite good at making me laugh too.” He marveled over how well Merry could store information in her head and use it to outwit others—whether monsters or crude blokes—and, how she could make guesses about future events in Camp Half-Blood, mostly involving people’s dating lives. He pictured Merry’s dark eyes contrasted with her honey skin and the curves of her body. She looked like a Victoria Secret model with a hardy appetite, and Calex wouldn’t change a single thing about her brain or her physique. Well… except…

               “She’s quite alright,” he said.

               “And..?” Greece asked.

               Calex sighed. He lifted up his drink and set it on the table. What he would change…

               “She isn’t attracted to me. At all. She isn’t attracted to anyone.”

               He waited for Greece to say he couldn’t know that, a completely reasonable response for someone who didn’t know he was a son of Eros and that he could tell when shy waitresses had him on their mental tele with much less clothing, much more interest in public displays of affection, and much less respect for restaurant sanitation. Instead, Greece frowned thoughtfully, waiting for him to continue.

               “I’m not sure she’ll ever find any bloke physically attractive.” Calex remembered all the times she’d make flirtatious comments about people’s bodies, like empty reverberations of gossip she’d heard. She never felt it. She would just say it to make people laugh or to contribute to a conversation. And, Calex feared, to feel normal.

               This is where he should stop, but the words slipped out. “She said she loves me.” He remembered how she had snuggled into his chest, calling him her sweet, sexy teddy bear. But, he couldn’t read emotional love. That was Piper’s, his aunt’s, territory. Merry’s confession had taken him by dumbfounded surprise, since those words were typically preluded by some sort of physical attraction.

               “That made it worse. I want… I want an all-inclusive relationship. It wouldn’t need to be immediate. I would wait however long she wanted and we could talk through everything. But that’s assuming Merry would ever want that. What if she never wants it? Nothing says she needs to nor should she ever feel pressured if it’s not something she’s interested in…”              

               There was no better way for him to explain it. He knew, physically, how to properly take care of everyone he got close to. That’s why people would come to him for advice, like the time Axel had, shaking with embarrassment, asked about one of his dates with Reyna, and the time Kally had timidly asked some generic questions on how things worked when you’re copping off.[3]

               Even if Calex didn’t want to know, the sense of what everyone wanted was in a neat queue, waiting for use by him or as advice for others. He knew what to do at any time to really get their engines roaring. But, he didn’t with Merry. It was a blank slate. Everyone else had a rolling instruction manual that he could access in a split second. But, he didn’t want them. He didn’t care about those instruction manuals. He wanted to show Merry how much he appreciated her in the way his godly heritage had given him the unquestionable advantage, but… he couldn’t. She was the only reason he could guess why other blokes were so nervous interacting sexually. Typically, he was full of the confidence of knowing. Not with Merry. Not when she didn’t want to get physically intimate with anyone and nothing he knew of could spike any sense of desire.

               He didn’t know how to explain any of that without coming across as a total creep.

               “I know that’s selfish,” he said instead. “It’s not that I wouldn’t mind waiting. If I knew, in a few years…” There was no acceptable way to end that line of dialogue with a stranger, or—really—with anyone.

               “No…” Greece frowned and Calex was ready for a proper (and well earned with how much of a dodgy perv he sounded) feminist lashing. “Calex, that isn’t selfish.”

               Calex blinked. “Yes, it is.”

               She laughed. “No, it isn’t. That’s a compatibility conflict. And, for someone like you, that is a serious compatibility conflict. From the way you’re talking and the way you are, I know you’re not seeking your own sexual gratification. How many times would you pleasure Merry without getting any reciprocation and even noticing or caring that you hadn’t?”  

               “Hundreds, if not thousands,” he said reflexively.

               When he realized that those were real words that came out of his mouth, he glanced around, to make sure Amelia hadn’t heard to use that for her mental tele. Calex took a long sip of tomato juice, desperately wishing he had Merry’s power to turn it into something a bit stronger. His mind sprinted through excuses as to why he would need to leave this table in a hurry, and wondered if this woman would believe him if he said he had an appointment to slog Boris Johnson in the face.[4]

               Greece, however, acted like this question was a typical Tuesday question. “Probably the same number of times Merry would help you study for an exam without ever feeling like you owed her a favor.”

               Calex felt like they’d just been chatting about a meat eater repeatedly offering a vegetarian an endless chicken supply, and that Greece had brought up the time the vegetarian offered the meat eater an endless supply of slinkies. Calex wasn’t sure if Greece just had a time lapse or if she was just stark raving mad.

               She confused Calex enough to make him say, “But, I don’t care about revision for my exams.”

               “That’s my point. You express your love differently, in different languages, and don’t have any common communication ground, beyond the enjoyment of each other’s presence.” She sipped her sparkling drink and grinned. “Ah! Fizz la Poire! What a nice combo.”

               Calex wished it would be as simple as she’d suggested. “So, you’re telling me to pull a girl by studying with her? That’s the secret to the Merry Snog: a good math textbook.”

               Merry, he realized, would fancy that official title quite a bit.

               Greece shook her head. “You’re missing the point. The studying is the snog to her.”            

               “I’m not sure I follow you.”

               Greece laughed lightly. “You’re just like your father.”

               Calex almost choked on his next sip of the thick juice. “Excuse me?” His suspicion came back to hit him like a power kick from Alexis Sanchez.[5]

               She shook her head in pleasant amusement. “You need to consider what is important to the two of you and where you can both compromise. Can you be in a relationship where you both feel unloved because you don’t understand each other’s methods of expressing love? You both might feel more fulfilled with someone who naturally expresses their affection in a way you appreciate and understand. Then you both won’t feel guilty for expecting something that isn’t there or holding the other back. The guilt you’re feeling about wanting to spend time with Merry in a particular way and knowing she wouldn’t want that—have you considered that she feels the same guilt for a different unfulfilled want?”

               “I hardly think that’s an appropriate comparison,” Calex said. He mentally toured through the various times Merry had offered to study with him, help him with his homework, or look through summer job applications. Kally, Merry’s best friend, had explained that Merry was mental over keeping a 4.0. The queasiness in Calex’s stomach told him Greece was right. Merry showed her affection to her mum and brother, Nikhil, by helping them with school and work. Had he been a total idiot? But having someone study with you when they were bored of it and having them snog you when they were bored of it were two very different things.

               Greece smiled. “It’s closer than you’re allowing yourself to think. You two might be better off with someone more compatible. Couples can make it work when they don’t express love the same way or click immediately. I wasn’t enthralled with my husband when we first met, but, in no time, I want to Tartarus and back again for him.”

               She touched her shoulder, her eyes glassy with a memory. They warmed back to the present. “Times are different now. You can’t start your relationship by kidnapping your princess. Back to your modern scenario, you could sit there and study with her, despite not caring about the studying at all, and she could—”

               “No,” Calex said firmly, checking goddess on his internal description of this woman. “She’s… she’s offered to try. But, I can’t even kiss her when I know she’s not interested in kissing. Even if her reaction is disinterest instead of dislike, what’s the point if she’s not enjoying herself?”

               “And that, ‘What’s the point?’ is how she feels about any of the ways she wants to express her emotion. That’s why I was going to say, you could push through it, but I’m not sure it would be healthy for either of you right now. Maybe later, but not now. And I certainly don’t think either of you will be able to happily live life, enjoy it, and experience it, and potentially other people, if you leave the situation in limbo.”

               Calex frowned. He thought about Merry’s smile when she knew she’d cornered someone with blackmail or the way she’d tease him by bumping against him on “accident.”

               “That’s not the uplifting, encouraging speech I was expecting,” he admitted.

               She shrugged. “I’m not going to encourage you to do something that will hold you back from expressing yourself the way you most enjoy. And I won’t say you should do something that will prevent you from living life in a way that’s important to you. If you’re anything like your father, you’ve quite an appetite, and it would make you miserable to suppress it.”

               Calex sat there, stunned.

               No one would ever say that about Winston.

               Had she really—? There was no way. No one in their polite, right mind—

               “Oh gods, you’re Psyche,” he said. He had to set his tomato juice down to balance himself against the table. “Oh gods. You just said that about my dad. Please don’t ever, ever, EVER refer to his appetite—or—or refer to you two—augh—shagging ever again.”  

               Psyche released a beautiful, heartfelt laugh. “For being a son of Eros, you’re incredibly uncomfortable with these discussions. Your sister, Hedone, is very forward about this type of thing.”

               “I’m awkward and British!” Calex cried. “I’m not absolutely mental like you Greek gods!”

               Maybe Calex shouldn’t have been mouthing off to a goddess, specifically not his step-mother, but this was a bit to take in.

               “And—and why are you even here? Aren’t you supposed to think… rather unpleasantly of me?” All the stories he’d heard of gods meeting their step children didn’t end with fairies and sunshine and the god or goddess crying, “There’s my favorite proof of adultery!”

               Her smile softened. “Calex, Eros and I have been together for thousands of years. Every couple hundred years, one of us will meet someone as remarkable as your mother. Then, we discuss it and have our agreements. It would be ridiculous for me to hate someone Eros loves so much, especially someone who has grown into an impressive young man. I’ve wanted to meet you, but this is the first birthday you really knew who you were.”

               A sick taste hit his mouth. The hopelessness and dreariness of the morning threatened to overtake him again. A lot had changed since his last birthday.

               “Your father is going to drop by later today,” she said. “He had to do a favor for your grandmother so she doesn’t notice the two of us here with you.”

               Calex wasn’t worried about his father. Compared to other half-bloods, he saw his dad a lot. Over the last year, Eros had not been shy with gifts or advice.

               That wasn’t what was unsettling Calex. “Did you know Tiwa?” he asked quietly.

               Tiwa didn’t strike Calex as someone capable of being a mistress. He could imagine his mum marching up to Psyche as soon as she discovered Eros was married. And he certainly couldn’t think she would be like Mrs. Blythe, Merry’s mother who was… intimate with both Ariadne and Dionysus. Definitely filing that into Things He Never Wanted to Know.[6]

               “I mostly knew of her,” Psyche said. She leaned back into her chair. The sunrays beaming through the glass ceiling hit her back; Calex’s eyes widened when he saw an array of color flowering around her chair and sweeping by her feet: wings. Butterfly wings. The Mist must have coated them before, but the brilliant colors shimmered like a stained glass frame for her hair. Like everything else about her, they were vibrant to the point of breathtaking. “We met over tea a few times. She was… fearless despite the fact that she knew I was a goddess. She wanted to make sure everyone knew exactly what was happening between the three of us. She didn’t trust Eros acting as a messenger.”

               “She always liked to make sure things were done correctly,” Calex said.

               Psyche laughed. “That’s a generous understatement.”

               Staring at the colors of Psyche’s wings, he could picture his mum’s soft face, whether in a smile to appreciate a witty joke or a terrifying scowl to ridicule Calex for some act of stupidity. Calex swallowed. That horrible emptiness from this morning seeped into his system.

               He told himself not to—that he didn’t want to talk about it. Still, the words came out of his mouth. “I used to resent going to mum’s clinic in Kakata every holiday.  I often had to spend my birthday there, with Tom and Mum, while my mates were off in Playa Del Ingles, Saint-Tropez, or some other posh beach.”

               Now, Calex wished he could be there. He wished he could have woken up this morning to his great granddad poking him and his brother with a walking cane while muttering a cryptic, Liberian aphorism. Then he and Tom, whining and complaining about the heat, would escort Mum to her clinic for a day of hard labor.  

               Now, when it came to his mum and brother, some days were better than others. He could sometimes laugh with Winston about something Tom used to do, or how hopeless they both were in the kitchen without Tiwa around. Other days, the house was quiet and cold without the buoyant conversation about Tiwa’s nightshift or Tom’s football match. Most of the time, Gretchen ran out with her mates, and Calex and Winston were working.

               Today, Calex felt numb.

               “Chiron said I could stay at Camp Half-Blood this summer, but Winston needs me here. He can barely afford the flat’s rent without Tiwa’s helping to pay. We might need to move. That’s one of the reasons I was so mad at Marie—the museum head—for forcing me to take the day off. I don’t care that it’s my birthday. They never cared about stuff like that before.”

               He shrugged. “But… but this is my first birthday without my mum or brother. Gretchen won’t talk to me much. She hasn’t since… since I survived and the others didn’t.”

               His little sister worried him and Winston, but he didn’t feel like there was much he could do. It felt like… felt like she blamed him for living, like it was his fault that their home had fallen apart.

               Psyche didn’t say anything. She reached across the table and gently set a hand atop his. Over the last year, he’d become more accustomed to brash touching—Pax and Kally made sure to that. This was different. Something about her touch—she understood loss. Calex wondered how many lovers and children Psyche watched succumb to old age or sudden tragedy.

               They sat in silence for a moment.

               “Mum would scold me for dwelling on it so much. Tom would have hit me and told me I was being a twat. Especially on my birthday…” Calex laughed softly.

               “Calex, you need to let yourself feel without getting mad about the feelings.” She squeezed his hand.

               Calex glanced at her blue and white jersey, now shimmering into a sleeveless, short chiton, her glossy wings and hair, her sweet face and warm eyes. If she hadn’t met him at the football field, he would have kept to himself all day, with his phone off to ignore any contact with his mates. Gretchen would have stormed into the house without a word to him and Winston would have come home from work and collapsed in front of the tele without Tiwa to remind him of their birthdays.

               Here, he was out of the flat, chatting with a goddess about his lunatic love prospects and his family. Insane, but much less bleak than he’d expected the day to go.

               Calex didn’t know how to show his gratitude to Psyche.

               The sadness in Psyche’s eyes made Calex squeeze her hand back. She raised her Fizz la Poir. “To living life in honor of those we miss,” she suggested.

               He tilted his glass to hers. “I really need to get a different drink for toasting. I think Tom might be offended,” he said, taking a sip of his tomato juice.

               They smiled.

               The restaurant door opened and closed. Calex didn’t look over, but could hear some female giggles.

               Now that he’d mentioned changing out his drink, Calex had to wonder where Amelia went. Normally, she was—

               “There’s my favorite Teddy Bear.”

               For a split second, he could see Psyche’s smile tweak with amusement. Then, the world vanished behind two perfect breasts as someone wrapped him in huge hug.

               When the person withdrew, Calex found Merry beaming down at him. That green and gold, low-cut sundress wouldn’t have looked half as good on anyone other than her. Her hair was curled and Calex ached to realize this was the first time he’d seen Merry in smart dress for a party.

               Glancing around Merry, he saw this was, indeed, a party. Kally gave him a huge grin and wave. She had her—and presumably Merry’s—birthday gifts under one arm. Her other arm held the unmistakable colors of her Manchester United jacket. Calex was happy the weather was too hot for her to get mugged for putting it on in the wrong town. Behind Kally, Piper and Jason entered the restaurant, glancing around the glass ceiling.

               Paul, his crazy cousin, and one of their Arsenal hooligan mates stepped in after, noticed how Merry kept snug against Calex’s side and how Psyche sat across from him and gave Calex a subtle thumbs up.

               “When did all of you get here?” Calex asked, baffled. He glanced at Psyche who was innocently sipping at her drink. “Did you do this?”

               She shook her head. “Oh, no. I offered to get you here for lunch. That is the extent of my foreplanning.”

               “This did this,” Merry said and pointed to herself. “You have a child of parties and revelry before you and you accuse someone else of orchestrating a shindig. I’m personally offended, birthday boy.”

               A wave of euphoria struck Calex, and he didn’t think it was from Merry’s powers. He hadn’t seen any of them since he left America, at least a month ago. Electronics never agreed with demigods, so he struggled to properly keep in touch. Talking to his mates at home was uncomfortable. Everyone treated him different since he got back. Until Calex saw their smiling faces, he hadn’t known how much he’d missed them.

               “Hi Calex!” Piper cheered. “Lacy had to pick up someone else, but she and Mitchell are looking for parking right now.”

               Jason nodded. “Percy and Annabeth send their best, but they had some college-level monsters pop up.”

               “We had a few ‘maybe’ responses, but the important people are here,” Kally said and punched his arm.

               Out of his peripheral, he could see Amelia rush out with a pre-prepared tray of sparkling beverages. Paul and his mate, Oliver, helped her to set up some space for them.

               “The most important people, Cyclops?”

               Calex, Merry, Kally, Piper, Jason, and—to Calex’s alarm—Psyche, all jumped at the couple that entered the restaurant.

               For a split second, Calex dropped his hand to his pencil pouch, containing Soul Pain, his bow. After a breath, he recognized the new occupant. It was someone younger and much more annoying than the person Calex had mistook the boy for. Beside the boy was someone else that Calex thought he may never ever see again.

               Pax wore a familiar burgundy button-down and dress pants. His wild raven hair was combed back into a sloppy ponytail that curled and twisted. He wore his fully loaded utility belt with poisons and serums. Two revolvers hung out of his shoulder holsters and atop suspenders that were lined with darts. He winked his golden eye at Kally.

               Calex had to wonder what the Mist turned all those weapons into when Pax was on the street.

               Pax held his automaton hand out to escort a young woman Calex also didn’t recognize initially.

               Upon examining her, Calex could tell she wasn’t wearing real clothing. The… dress? Or sometimes body suit..? The clothing she wore trembled and altered as they walked closer. The mesh itself came from intertwining leaves, vines, and flowers. Petals fell from it as she walked, leaving a trail of colors. Her feet were bare. The only solid thing that she wore was a sickle strapped across her back with a vine. Her unkempt hair was enlaced with more beautiful flowers, ones—Calex thought—he remembered being poisonous.

               Her dark gaze was turned upward so she could grin at the glass ceiling.

               When she met his stare, she smiled like they’d seen each other yesterday. “Hey. Nice choice in restaurant. What’s their best meal?”

               “Euna?” Kally asked, covering her mouth with one hand.

               Like Calex, her fingers had dropped into her messenger bag in a reflexive search for a weapon.

               “Yes, a happy Euna, that looks completely normal and you should compliment her on realizing floral was in this summer,” Pax said.

               Jason opened and closed his mouth, glaring at Pax suspiciously. Everyone knew the Romans had been searching for these two. Piper tugged on Jason’s hand. “It’s nice to have everyone together for Calex’s birthday, isn’t it?” she asked.

               Calex could feel the calm of Piper’s tone.

               “Yep,” Merry piped in. “All here to relax and party.”

               Between the two of them, the tension in Jason’s arm muscles eased. Calex and Kally released their weapons. Piper tugged Jason to the side to look at a menu.

               A bee flew off one of Euna’s shoulder plants as she and Pax approached Calex. She held out a hand and a root twisted down her arm to her palm. Upon resting there, something sprouted, in fast motion, and a beautiful grey and purple flower appeared. “I made you a flower,” she said. “It will alternate blooming from mid-spring to late autumn. And, as Axel would have recommended, you can use its leaves to kill your enemies. But, for real, what is the best thing on this menu?”

               She set the flower into the vase on the table. All the other plants in the vase rose up to her hand, coming to full bloom.

               “Lovely,” Calex said, staring at the beautiful, deadly plant, so close to where they were going to eat. “And—um—for you? Probably the Boeuf Bourguignon.” He said, fumbling to think of the most filling thing on the menu. He was so taken aback by her appearance—someone he thought he’d never see again, he felt silly giving lunch recommendations instead of giving her a hug.

               She nodded, took a table, and was immediately set upon by Paul. Kally rushed over to make sure Paul didn’t unsettle the volatile daughter of Demeter. Calex had to wonder what Paul saw when he looked at Euna—a cute Korean girl in a floral dress? Someone nearly naked with… what would he think the sickle was?

               Psyche’s eyes trailed Euna’s movements, proving not everyone invited knew about everyone else that could be coming. He imagined Merry “forgetting” that she’d be inviting Euna and a goddess and—if his dad showed up—a god. At least Euna either didn’t recognize Psyche or didn’t care. From their conversations that morning, Calex could also imagine Psyche coming regardless.

               Pax withdrew something from a pouch on his utility belt. “She brought you a birthday gift. I bring you bribery.”

               He handed Calex an envelope.

               “The closest thing to a gift that a Pax boy can give when he doesn’t want to sleep with the receiver,” Merry said.

               Pax tsked. “Merry, don’t jump to conclusions. I could have great interest in Calex.”

               “Don’t even joke,” Calex hissed. He broke the seal. “I ought to open this now, oughtn’t I? In case there’s some sort of Morpheus powder?”

               He expected it to be a drawing of weasels devouring him, as Pax had promised to make in the past.

               Instead, there was a check.

               For a moment of stupid belief, Calex felt his jaw drop. With as much firm denial as he’d previously felt awe, he said, “This is fake.”

               Pax gave him that half-grin. “Now, really, you can’t know that until it bounces and you look like an idiot at the bank.”

               Calex glared. He leaned forward. Short of excusing themselves, there was no way to keep Merry and Psyche from listening, but he had to put up the illusion of privacy. Judging from their overtly feigned ignorance and they way they lunged into a seeming personal conversation for supposed strangers, he suspected they knew exactly what was in this envelope before he’d opened it.  “Pax, what dodgy thing did you do to get it and what are you getting at by pretending to offer this to me?”

               “I haven’t done anything dodgy to get this,” Pax said. His fingers made a metallic clacking noise as they shuffled along his utility belt. “I was talking to your step-mom—”

               “Aunt,” Psyche interrupted both their and her and Merry’s conversation. “Step-mom feels weird.”

               “Auntie,” Pax corrected. “About your situation—”

               Betrayal twisted Calex’s stomach. He hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone, including Psyche, about his family’s financial situation. Now she was yapping to others? But… there was no way. He just spoke of it a few minutes ago…

               “—with the whole Pax Pharmaceutical Company drugging and kidnapping you and causing you all that trauma,” Pax said flippantly.

               Calex stared. “Pardon?”

                “Pax Pharmaceuticals is currently going through a rebranding, but it would really hurt our image if word got out that members of the organization had done some nasty things.”

               “Wait—” Calex could never forget the horrible events Pax was referencing—a year ago when Santiago Pax kidnapped all of them, drugged he and Merry, and killed Joey Song, Euna’s sister. That wasn’t where his confusion lay. “You’re actually bribing me?” he asked. Pax had been as much a traumatized victim as the rest of them.

               In the bluntest answer Pax had ever said to him, the young Mayan gave him a sly smile. “Yes. Happy Bribe Day.”

               “I put my hush money into a fund for Nikhil to go to university,” Merry said cheerily. “And he thought it was for us to go to Disney.”

               “How cruel,” Psyche said.

               Calex swallowed, staring at the check. “Psyche… you threatened to sue him?”

               “Threatened is a strong word,” Pax said.

               Psyche took a sip from her drink and gave him one of those dazzling smiles. Her wings fluttered.

               Calex didn’t like the idea of owing this dodgy bloke a favor, even if the favor was silence. As he stared at the digits, he thought about how long this check would last them if Winston downsized their housing and they were careful. The money he made from his summer job could go towards plane tickets to visit his mates in America and, like how Merry was using hers, maybe go into a college fund for Gretchen. And, if they accepted it, at least then he’d know any money Gretchen made would go towards new clothing instead of rent.

               “I’m thinking about using Kally’s money to take her on some surprise vacations,” Pax said.

               Merry clucked her tongue. “Using hush money from a kidnapping to fund further kidnappings. Pax, you naughty one.”

               “Oh!” He snapped his fingers, fishing out another envelope. “Wait—Calex, this is more important. Here is your birthday gift.”

               After the first envelope’s content, Calex was worried. He tore it open to look inside, wondering if he should wait until later—

               And found a depiction of a colossal weasel attacking Big Ben with what Calex could only assume was a stick-figure version of himself hanging out of the animal’s mouth.

               He wanted to express to Pax how much he hated him, but couldn’t rectify that with the weird need to give the boy a hug.

               Instead, Calex took something out of Axel’s old book of Etiquette in the Face of Pax and simply sighed, deciding to worry over the check later and enjoy the party.

               Although the odd intermixing of groups was a right mess, Calex had a fantastic time. He enjoyed watching Paul and Oliver fawn hopelessly over Euna, Psyche, and Kally, watching Kally and Paul argue over football, and watching Psyche awkwardly dodge around Pax’s audacious humor. Poor Kally didn’t know what to do when Pax turned on his charm full blast.

               Calex had to wonder what his mates would say if Eros really did show up. Others had said they could see the resemblance between the two of them. Would Paul and Oliver lose their minds to hear about Calex’s biological dad?

               All that faded away though when the best birthday present possible walked into the restaurant. Calex was in mid-laugh, watching Pax snark one of the fizzy drinks up his nose when he saw Lacy and Mitchell—children of Aphrodite that he’d shared a cabin with last year—step inside. Behind them, the lanky, nervous figure of Winston came through, babbling about being late. Lastly, there were four teenage girls.

               Three of them were people he hadn’t really seen much since they moved to St. Albans from their tiny flat in London when Calex was very young. One, a teenage girl with black-streaked blonde hair and punk clothing, winked at him, and he knew he would have to pretend he hadn’t seen her within the last year.

               Lastly, came a beautiful girl with frizzy black hair, caramel eyes, and a deep tan. She wore punk clothing that ought to have died a decade earlier, though Calex was certain she’d gotten them from the blonde. Calex had to marvel over how the fierceness in Gretchen’s eyes reminded him of Tiwa’s.

               They roamed inside as though their presence had nothing to do with the party—except that two of the girls, Liz and Emma if he remembered properly, where giggling and gasping at Calex’s presence. Gretchen always hated it when her friends got crushes on him.

               On their way to a booth in the corner, the blonde nudged Gretchen’s arm and whispered to her. “Come onnn, Gretch. Your brother isn’t half as annoying as mine.”

               Gretchen sighed, jammed her hands into her pockets, and glared at Calex. “Happy birthday or whatever,” she said.

               Those were the first words she had said to him in weeks.

               Calex knew she’d be furious if made a deal out of it.

               Before he could bollocks the situation, she and her friends continued to the booth, away from the rest of them. Calex smiled after them, tuning out the noise from the other party guests. Although he still missed his mum and brother, everything felt… lighter…

               When Calex brought his attention back to Pax’s antics, Psyche caught his eye and tilted her glass towards him.

               Calex tilted his—now a proper pint—back towards her. She was right. He still needed to find a way to thank her, Merry, and Gretchen for making this day a brilliant one. For now, he decided he would keep true to their toasting, and live life to the fullest in honor of those he missed.  

 Footnotes:

[1] Calex would CRINGE at how full of himself this makes him sound. He would like to apologize and offer Pax shirts to all.

[2] Pike’s betaediting comment: “We slaughtered an ox right quick to honor God, no big deal, a little off, I suppose, but not any weirder than anything those hooligans get to after the World Cup.”

[3] Much to Calex’s irritation and frustration at which people she looks at as love interests.

[4] British Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs

[5] Forward for Arsenal. Ehem. Until Manchester United, Kally’s favorite team, swiped him in 2018. However, in this book series’ timeline, Alexis would have just started his Arsenal career. Can you imagine the look of horror on Calex’s face when he found out one of Arsenal’s best players was being transferred to Kally’s team?

[6] Mel suggests a quick dip in the River Lithe. Supposedly cures that RIGHT up.

Thank you for the read! And thanks for the request from anon!

[coquette-sextette]

alright here it is, but I just wanna remind you that I am not coming up with this on the fly. these were from last summer and I'd read this when I needed a refresh on my characters.

Name, Age: Mosley Verbena, 285

Sex: Male

Physical Appearance; how they feel about it: Mosley is tall bright and gorgeous! he has long elf ears (duh) and he doesn't think much about his looks because it isn't important

childhood experiences, family and frienships: horrible childhood you'd know when I'm done with the book, Mosley was an only child so lonely, he's friends with everybody basically but he's only close with like, two people, and he's also basically racist because there's certain species he doesn't like or trust which sucks for him because his best friend (Thidias) is friends with York who is a Shifter Faery cocktail of a person but he looks that over for the most part for Thidias

Education Level, intelligence Level, Military Service: MOSLEY IS SUPER SMART ABOUT APOTHECARIC STUFF. intelligence could be better but whatevs. military? uhh dude Mosley is a pacifist ',:/

Attitudes and Moral beliefs: attitude like flowery sunshine but when he's angry his face goes red (if that even answers this question) moral beliefs are basically RACIST but he's working on it :)

current relationships: tbh originally I was gonna write him to be Thidias' boyfriend but then was like "this would do nothing for the plot NO ROMANCE JUST BROMANCE" and didn't do it

religious background: well he swears to the gods a lot but mostly as in "please don't make me have to poison this person" kind of way

Occupation: leader of camp Rhea and apothecaric doctoooor

main aspects of personality: like, he calls everybody friend you'll see this in the book, he does it to set this little thingy to whoever he's saying it to as like "hey man I'm not gonna hurt you AND I'm calling you friend so you can't hurt me" but once he like, actually likes you he calls you man.

what are they proud of? what are they ashamed of?: Mosley is proud of how he's able to help people, and he's good at it so no one expects him to do much more cus he's just like "I literally keep all of you alive during flu season no I'm not gonna go hunting" but he's ashamed of his inability to keep people close to him because he ages super slow and has literally watched his friends be born and die and...he doesn't wanna see that but he's getting better

state of health: healthy as a horse. but mentally? dear lord this poor little boy is depressed, also, he is sooooo SKINNY skinny legend who?? no it's not Mosley he's malnourished.

core characteristics: he moves fast and talks fast and is a loud mouth and sensitive and scared :(

here it is and yes I know it is fcking weird as hell my mind went a bit coo coo during that heat wave but make fun of me all you want

okay, I know I'm gonna regret this, but Pick a Character and I'll read their character description I wrote while dealing with my anger issues

Mosley Verbena

Thidias Trenbonious the 2nd

Jan Tozer

York Sprout

Rigby Ludlow

raya please tell me all about mosley verbena

[treistan]

Psycho Pass: Sleepover, Pt. 1

Akane Tsunemori. Inspector Tsunemori, Kogami reminded himself. There was a clear delineation between their ranks: the huntsman and the hound. It was a line that, at least for him, grew thinner and more difficult to find the longer they worked together at the Ministry of Welfare.

She stood outside the door to his quarters just staring at the wall. One tap on the console would have announced her presence. Instead, her hands were clutched in front of her. The right one was bandaged in gauze, injured from the night’s mayhem. Another bandage partially covered her eye where a latent criminal had successfully taken aim with his fist.

Though his Dominator had not judged the man fit to die, Kogami brandished his own form of justice before pulling the trigger. He doubted the criminal would ever raise that fist against anyone ever again, at least not without extensive surgery to repair the damage.

Akane was still dressed in the rain-soaked clothes she had been wearing when the perp knocked her off the causeway into the drainage pool. After shattering the man’s hand and paralyzing him, Kogami had found her clinging to a maintenance ladder. Fortunately for both of them, it was just rainwater from the recent storm. Still, there was a musty odor to it. His own clothes carried a hint of it from where he carried her to the medical drones to get checked out.

Though young, the Inspector was tough and getting tougher on the job, but this case had set her back. She got too close to where the dogs do their best work and learned that she, like all Inspectors, was mortal. There was a frightened, shell-shocked glaze over her eyes, which were usually lively and brilliant with optimism. He wondered what her psycho-pass looked like now.

Somewhere near clear and powder blue, he surmised. The scanners within the building would have flagged her otherwise.

His usual antics were generally enough to rouse the color in her cheeks; so, he struck a pose in the doorway. With one hand on his hip and the other pressed against the frame, he cued the control panel to open. “Can I help you, Inspector Tsunemori?”

She was startled by the abrupt opening of the door and stepped back in fear. “Mr. Kogami?” she replied in a small voice. “May I—may I come inside?”

Unsettled by the fragility in that voice, Kogami took a cautious step to the side. He let the culprit off too quickly, far too quickly for the amount of pain the man had caused his handler. “How’s the head?”

“Fine,” she whispered. Walking by him slowly and with deliberate steps, she grasped the collar of her wet jacket and pulled it tightly against her neck as if chilled.

Kogami narrowed his eyes. Yep, definitely should have killed the bastard.

The Enforcer slipped the knot of his tie and tossed it over the black suit jacket on the back of his couch. “You should have been home hours ago.”

“About that.” Akane turned to face him, her eyes welling with tears.

“Afraid to go home? According to Ginoza, you shouldn’t be. Masaoka bagged two of the bad guys that were sending you death threats. Kagari bagged another; and I managed to bring down the last one. They’re all tucked away in an isolation facility across town.”

“Mr. Ginoza thinks I’m being paranoid.”

“What’s your gut telling you?”

“That this was just the probe, a test of the MWPSB’s response. It’s nothing more than a ploy to lower my guard. The real attack is yet to come.”

“Okay.” Kogami crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s the next play?”

“As long as I stay here in the building, it won’t end. I have to go home, sooner or later. I need to flush them out and put a stop to it once and for all.”

“So, what’s stopping you?” He leaned back against the couch. “Ginoza?”

“Resources. I could take a Dominator home with me, but signing one out would alert Ginoza. The last thing I need is another lecture. Or worse, him filing a report about my inability to work as an Inspector.”

“And if you’re right? If the bad guys come calling?”

“But if I’m wrong, it just gives him ammunition to say that I really am delusional.”

“He said that?”

“That exact word,” she replied in disbelief. “Mr. Kogami, I am anything but delusional!”

The color was returning to her cheeks. It was a good sign. Akane was a fighter, a thinker, as well as an overbearing optimist. Ginoza took significant pleasure in undermining her because of that inexperience and cheery disposition. Kogami felt his heart quicken and his hands ball into fists. He hated when Ginoza was cruel to her, but some battles were meant to be fought alone.

“So, that brings you back to other resources. Options?”

“I need to do something less conspicuous.” Akane looked up for the first time and met his eyes. Never one to let formality stand in the way of principle, she popped the question. “I was wondering if you would come home with me?”

“Now you’re talking like a real detective. The safest huntsman is the one with a hunting hound at her feet.” He snatched up the tie and wrapped it around his collar before shrugging into his jacket.

“You’ll come home with me?”

“If you smell something amiss, I do, too. The hell with Ginoza.” Kogami flipped his collar up and adjusted his tie. “If nothing happens, he’s none the wiser. No one is.” He flipped the collar back down and pulled his jacket collar over it. “But if the bad guys /do/ make an appearance, I’ll be there. End of story.”

“I’ll have a car ready for us in the underground garage.”

Kogami tapped a Spinel cigarette from the packet. Lighting the cigarette, he took a deep draw and savored the bitter taste in the back of his throat. “Then why do you look so spooked?”

“What if Ginoza finds out?”

“We were discussing a case. Can’t really explain why we were at your place. We just were. It got late. You were tired from our last investigation, not to mention injured. It’s not like you can just send an Enforcer home alone, right? I slept on the couch.”

“You’re a good man, Shinya Kogami.” For the first time since the night’s investigation, she managed a slight smile.

“Save it for my funeral. Let’s get you home.”

They drove in silence for the entire ride to Akane’s apartment complex. Kogami sat behind the wheel as the navigation system took them on course. Hands behind his head, he pretended to be aloof, while staring at her from the corner of his eye. While she seemed relieved to be with him, her usual demeanor was diminished.

Exhaustion, he told himself, and fear. Should have killed that perp.

If he had anything to do with it, tonight would be the last she lived in fear for her life from this group of latent criminals. They called themselves the PWO: the People’s Watch Organization. Anarchists, they had caused a good deal of mayhem across the city. A growing list of graffiti, vandalism, and cyber-threats were enough to attract the MWPSB’s attention. The ensuing investigation turned up a handful of miscreants who were unhappy with the status quo and looking to make noise, the wrong kind of noise, according to the Sibyl System.

Akane spearheaded the initial investigation that brought most of the foot soldiers of the PWO in for therapy in sanctioned facilities. While the main ringleaders were still at large, the group had been demeaned disorganized by Ginoza’s flippant observations. Therefore, they were no further threat; however, Akane had only cracked open a small cell. There were dozens of others across the city. It did not long for them to regroup with death threats against Inspector Tsunemori and a cyber smear campaign against the Ministry of Welfare. The threats, considered idle by Ginoza and Chief Kasei, became realization when a small parcel bomb detonated outside the doors of the CID office. While no one was seriously hurt, it put Akane and MWPSB squarely in the crosshairs.

(Want more? Check out the complete story on Wattpad.com.)

[mynuggetheart]

Will; Will

When I got home today, I told my mom I am sad and that I do not know why. And she just said that I should stop being sad. I want to. But there are days when I just feel hopeless. When I wear my hoodie and wish the world will freeze until I get to feel the ground beneath me again. Because I feel like I'm floating, suspended in my anxieties. I do not know what it is. I am scared to know what it is. Because it seems much larger than me sometimes and if I fuel it by acknowledging its existence, it might swallow me whole in its emptiness. But to continue denying it's there is exhausting. And I do not know just how long I can manage to keep these feet moving. Sometimes I find myself trying to build as much walls as I can around me. Blocking the light. Keeping air from touching my skin. I cocoon myself in the comfort of my bed. A pillow fort to keep everything away. Numbing my mind from drama series in different languages just to keep it from thinking wandering thoughts. But even then, the tears still come. One by one. As if rehearsed. As if cued to begin and never end. I'm a puddle of tears over nothing. Over a spreading black hole in my chest. But I need to cover it up. Because walking around with that dark cloud above my head will only call for attention. So I wake up, put on my make up, and smile to disguise my wounded soul. Because if even my mother cannot understand the hurt, who else will? Who will listen when the pressing blackness becomes too much, it gets so hard to even breathe? Who would understand that sometimes when I tell people I want to be alone it's because I don't want to drag them into my ravine of unease in case I end up losing them in the process? I am tired. I get so tired at playing make believe and yet I push through. The world doesn't need me, but I have learned that even when you think that, there are others who consider you an important part of theirs. And I feel like I owe it to them to at least get through one more day instead of wallowing in the despair. I learned that we are all meant to break at some point. After all, we weren't made to be bulletproof. Our heart is a muscle. One that gets strained from fatigue and improper use. It's bound to get pulled like any ordinary ones. And the hurt we suffer when it tears leave us scared, unwilling to put it through the same circumstances again. And there are hearts that get stuck. That replays the sadness over and over. It is up to me if I will learn to sing a different tune or keep humming the melody of loneliness. I do not know how. But I try to anyway. Because when all you've got going for you is your stubborness, you go all the way with it. When your hope to survive is your inability to let go then by all means cling to that one thing even when it cuts your palms open. Keep the sting a reminder that you are alive. And that you get better. And that today might be a bad day but tomorrow may be different. And even if it is not, there will come a day when dawn will finally break and envelop you in a hug of warm sunshine. Maybe through a stranger's words that relate to your struggles. Maybe through a friend who holds your hand and doesn't judge you of your weakness. Maybe through yourself, because you just want to live. So live. Live until your tiredness is not of the unknown but of your journeys; until your blisters are not on your heart and soul but on your feet because you kept walking even when your shoes were uncomfortable; until your tears are not from your sadness but the overwhelming love for life. Keep going. You can do it. We can do it. I can do it. I will do it.

[joshnekuu]

i’m just going to dump my agartha reactions/thoughts in here to eep it from cluttering my blog/your dashes. There’s a lot of rape mentions in here and misgendering shit so read at your own risk.

so when they get to the pirates, who are also all female, they insult astolfo and d’eon because they can’t tell their genders by looking at them, and say that if they’re women they’ll kill them (for associating with/helping men I guess) and if they’re men they’ll rape them (they say their ‘crotches tingle with anticipation’ of it). And Astolfo’s reaction is that this reminds him of a time when he was summoned elsewhere, aka, he’s remembering when he was raped and molested by Celenike.

and then Astolfo’s reactions to seeing the men get abused in town is just looking pained and murmuring about how horrible it is.... like why would you bring astolfo to this plae fgo

and then there’s a joke about little fergus wanting to touch Astolfo’s ass like what the fuck

more sex jokes. Leave Fergus Lily alone he’s like 12 he clearly doesn’t know anything about sex yet, stop taunting the literal child.

also this translation refers to D’eon as he :/ and Davinci as “she” in quotation marks :////

also it seems really weird for Fergus, who comes from the same time period as Cu, who is well aware of how powerful and dangerous women can be, to be so surprised that women can be strong? And that he literally can’t fight these women, even though they are literally trying to enslave him and his comrades? Like kiddo, you can clearly see now that these aren’t frail, dainty maidens that cannot defend themselves? They are murderous rapists who want to enslave you? Even if it did make sense for someone who is aware female warriors exist even without having seen them, his inability to hit a woman thing has gotten very old very fast.

I guess Astolfo wanted to flirt with you while D’Eon did the heavy lifting so congrats gudastolfo shippers? And Guda doesn’t have a problem with watching Astolfo change in front of them so woohoo. Why does it seem so. Perverted.

Mashu is concerned about D’eon’s sex and asks you to ‘look closer’ and so we’re treated to a zoom in on D’eon’s chest :/ 

lmao fgo davinci wasn’t into women

“you told me one you didn’t lust after little girls” yes guda, because fergus is one of he few characters n this game who isn’t a pedophile, but you all KNOW he is 12 right now so 1) it would make sense for him to like people his own age still and 2) He wouldn’t be ‘lusting’ after anyone because he’s clearly very uncomfortable and unfamiliar with sex at all! Stop being gross and creepy fgo!!!!!

at least the rape threats and discussion have kind of stopped at this point but i’m not sure if it will return when we get back to the ‘amazonesses’

ohh goddd d’eon is upset by the execution stage because of marie ;-; But when Astolfo sees this he tells D’eon that they’re going to save them. They actually ave a sweet moment... which is immediately ruined by a joke about which one ‘gives’ and ‘receives’, and Guda have Mashu record that moment :/ This chapter is so bad in so many ways.

They also are doing that thing where they show like, how terrible it would be for men to be treated as inferior to women and have less rights than them even though on the surface everything is equal! Or have women treat men how women have been treated throughout history and still are in some places! But it doesn’t really seem to call attention to or acknowledge that this was how things were and are for women? So like even though it’s sickening to watch the way women are treating men in this it’s also frustrating in another way. 

At the very least, the men being raped/enslaved really doesn’t seem to be treated like a joke, so that much is better than nothing? Like there aren’t any jokes (so far) or double standard things for men being raped by women, which is more than I’ve expected from fate. They don’t really go into it in depth or anything and they focus more on the women enjoying torturing men than the mens feelings so it’s still pretty shitty but they at least don’t make a joke out of it like a lot of other Amazon stories like this would.

assassin of the nightless city says umu too just one more reason to dislike her. You know. On top of torturing innocent people and having a lolicon design that rivals even Jack.

she calls astolfo a horny girl wow. then she calls him a girl again a few lines later. 

Davinci says some beasts might attack Caster for her voluptuous body. So no one is safe from rape threats here. Fantastic.

OH EVEN BETTER THEY THINK FERGUS IS GONNA RAPE HER. FUCKING. 12 YEAR OLD FERGUS WHO CAN’T EVEN FIGHT A WOMAN. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE WRITERS?????? Also implying that adult fergus is a rapist thanks fate.

Now we’re staring at her jiggling boobs. This game is the worst thing.

Framing Sche’s legend as her ‘just being desperate’ rather than cunning and brave thanks :////

And we’re ending this trainwreck for the night, with Sche offering up her body to keep you from killing her, ONCE AGAIN LOOKING AT THE FUCKING CHILD. I HATE FATE GRAND ORDER.

[kinkshame-puncher-666]

Idk how to the -keep reading- link thing so sorry about this long post of just me talking about why I'm stupid

Ok so in my head I'm not good at anything except sex and makeup which are things I literally do not care about. "OhOOooooOo are you gunna go to cosmetology school??" Bitch fuck off. I'll tell people I'm not good at anything cus I'm not good at this one thing I need to do in the moment. Me messing up at all reminds me that I'm stupid and bad at everything. Happens nearly every day multiple times. So, people tell me I'm smart in other ways. Could anyone like... Name one? Ever? At all? What ways? And I'll use examples of the things I'm bad at and people say that it's part of my mental disabilities and that I wouldn't say that about other people with those symptoms? Like yeah. My inability to focus, poor motor skills, not understanding people, executive dysfunction, all that jazz are all valid symptoms. But like. No. I'm just fucking stupid. I have no skills. None. No talents. Nothing special or basic. I can't function. Even with all the help I get. If I were on my own I couldn't make it. I have so many things wrong. Some are disorders, but people with the same disorders as what I supposedly have are still... Good at something????? I'm not good at anything! I can't walk without falling! I drop and break things too often! My handwriting is almost always ilegable and I've been told this by everyone my whole life! Strangers, teachers and loved ones! Same with everyone saying I'm annoying! Even if I could write leggably I can't spell (as you can see by this post) and I have no good ideas to write and I mix up the words in my head when typing it out to where everything is out of order and makes no sense to me or anyone! Even with speaking no one ever knows what the fuck I'm saying! I swear I'm just not speaking the same language as anyone else and I don't understand others words either. I don't understand people at all. I don't know what your faces mean and I don't want to look at your eyes. I can't learn either. I either get it the first time or not at all. And everyone gets mad at me for not understanding. No one can teach me once I don't get it. Not teachers, not friends, not coworkers giving me BASIC FUCKING INSTRUCTIONS, not even my boyfriend who is an actual genius and it's probably the smartest person I've ever known. No one can teach me cus I can't fucking learn. And I just give up when they've explained it 15 different ways and are so frustrated with me they don't even care anymore. I'll say I get it but almost never do. I mix up simple things! Put a simple task in front of me and I'll fail at any given time! And if I succeed at it somehow it still takes 100× longer than anyone else! I just don't know how to do anything! All my coworkers at all my jobs hated me! Even if they were super nice and loved me at first they just couldn't stand how fucking retarded I am and how I can't do any job. I can tell. I swear I can tell that everyone at my jobs just laugh about how incompetent I am. I just make everyone lives harder at my jobs. I feel bad cus I literally can't do anything right and I just inconvenience my coworkers and get nothing done. I'm an inconvenience to everyone I know. Jesus Fucking Christ. I don't deserve to live.