#dignity of risk and all that. i do genuinely feel a lot better. these past couple days of not walking much i've been in SO much pain and SO
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crimeronan ¡ 8 months ago
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i was tired of being so antsy and anxious so i left the house and walked almost 5 miles. this technically broke my PT rules but i was able to consciously engage my core the whole time to keep my back from hurting + my hips from subluxing (thank u 9 days of PT exercises already making a measurable difference) & now i'm taking a hot bath so i am..... Knocking On Wood that i'll be okay. please god.
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rrasado ¡ 3 years ago
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Yo! If that's okay could i request the brothers (or some of the of your choice) reacting to a teen mc who already has a pact with a demon long before coming to the Devildom and this demon is pretty much their (very protective) guardian/caretaker? Like, the demon is really sweet and gentle with MC and babies them constantly but they're wary of the brothers (Nothing romantic, just platonic hcs!) Feel free to ignore if i'm bothering you!
Congrats on the 400 followers!!💞
Who’s The Guardian?
On another episode of “why didn’t I see this in my inbox before-“ but this is such a cute request.
I...haven’t played OMSWD in half a year ;-;. I never got past lesson 40 so, sorry in advanced for the OOC-
When you already have a pact
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Lucifer
...is caught off guard, big time.
He probably skimmed through your files and records but not once did the thought of a seemingly innocent teenager already having a pact with a demon prior the exchange program crossed his mind.
That’s coming from someone who overthinks a lot.
As the so called right hand man of the young lord himself, he’ll want to conduct a thorough investigation on whoever this demon is. He can’t risk sullying the honor of Diavolo because of some minor slip up.
Under the guise of a friendly get together he asks MC to invite their demon pact mate over for a nice afternoon tea. Harmless correct? Well that -less becomes -ful when the demon immediate smothers their favorite human with such rare affections he didn’t knew demons were capable of.
He’ll attempt to be discreet about his intentions but, it seems the demon is more vocal about their displeasure of finding out that their dear human is living with seven of the most powerful demons in hell. So lucifer would blatantly put on a facade to keep the dignity of the council and the prince at peace. But if it were up to him...
“We all care for the human’s well being yes? A little cooperation is to be called for”
Mammon
...Feels betrayed. And disappointed
He...wasn’t MC’s first- oh god the others are laughing at him as we speak aren’t they.
Would probably try to not so discreetly compare himself to the demon, arms crossed™️
Is that why MC was so fast in making a pact with him? Like no fear whatsoever because they’ve already done this before? Now he feels dumber than before
It all ultimately ends with..the demon and mammon trying to out do each other when it comes to spoiling Mc whether material wise or affection, of course mammon is at a disadvantage given how much he denies his concern for not being Mc’s first.
But in the end, if anything bad no matter how small happens to the two demon’s beloved human, they’d probably set aside their differences and hunt down the source. It’s a whole other story if the source was mammon-
“Oi the human also has a pact with me Ya got that!”
Leviathan
...is both amazed and disdained.
On one hand- HOLY SHI- YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN MOST SUMMONERS AND YOU ALREADY HAVE A PACT? THAT’S SO SHOUNEN-
And on the other hand- wow...you’re such a normie for being able to pull in other races, what in the name of damned friendship is this-
But that disdain turns to envy, whether envying you or the demon sometimes it’s interchangeable- because he wished he was also that cared for. Being able to be brought gifts or being protective over- it’s the otome dream he’s secretly wanted.
But once he realizes that the demon just genuinely cares for MC, for whatever reason- he seems to understand along the way, maybe he to wishes to protect one of the few people that willingly put up with him with a wild smile. Teen mutuality huh.
He might even invite their demon pact mate over for a game or two- heck if things go well they three might even become a triumvirate. Overall he’ll learn to get along with them but...it’ll take a good while djdndnbd.
“H-hey...ya sure you wanna hang out with someone as yucky as me? Ah- wait I have games for three here somewhere.”
Satan
...Is highly intrigued suffice it to say.
The guy was highly enthralled when you managed to even make a pact with him through hard work and it seems there was a much farther history as to why.
Unlike the first born however, he’d be actually successful in hiding his true intentions when he decided to investigate whoever demon managed to wind up with the young human in the first place.
Those detective novels did him good Huh-
On a more serious note. He’d actually be encouraging to a certain extent until the demon directs their threats to him. Like how dare this lowly bastard make a point to the Avatar sin of Wrath- oh it was for MC’s sake...hard pass-
At one point he’s probably the closest to this demon in terms of peace next to Beelzebub since he’s the most serene of the brothers. Overall neutral to them unless the demon gives him a reason to.
“It’s nice to see the human having someone to lean on to...I wonder what would happen if that support were to suddenly collapse”
Asmodeus
...is sappy to the brim
Look at the lovely human already catching demons with finesse! Proud wine aunt moment™️. And the fact that it was prior to the program? Damn the kid has more potential than he thought.
At first the demon themself is gonna- Ehe carry MC away everytime asmo ties coming in but. With a little nudge and convincing they’d probably stay to listen to Asmo.
Trust me when I say these three will go shopping every weekend once everyone is comfortable with each other. And for what it’s worth they might even get matching outfits.
Asmo would probably try and nitpick how MC even managed to wind up in a pact with a demon without knowledge of the Devildom in the first place but at the same time he thinks it adds to the younger’s charm
These three end up being the child the mom and wine aunt dynamic and y’all can’t convince me otherwise.
“Ehh~? Oh don’t look so weary it’s bad for your face darling~”
Beelzebub
...For some reason happy.
Is this why MC managed to make a pact with his brothers so easily in so little time? Is this why the teen never seems to be bothered by any of his brothers’ threats? Overall he’s happy that you have experience.
He remembers something oddly like this...but in his case he didn’t had experience prior the fall wow way to go at angsting this am I right-
Because unlike him, a being millennia old was so confused of what’s in store for hell after the fall but he had no choice but to grit his teeth and bare the fear.
And someone so young managed to get a taste of a fraction of that experience but here was MC...laughing without a care whilst this other demon places a protective arm in front of them as they interrogate beel- oh wait they were talking to him-
Food as peace offering? You bet, thankfully they did settle with food and unlike first impressions- the demon actually is the most sensible to beel seeing as he was one of the few who...didn’t actively attempt to kill their human- in fact, the demon is probably the one to inform Beel of what demon food the young teen can actually eat and what they prefer.
“I see...ah, would you maybe wanna join us? Food always tastes better when shared”
Belphegor
...could care less until they talk about the whole time universe killing thing-
Ohhh boy- belphie run I’m telling you run- no beel won’t defend you on this one in fact I think I see mammon running with the demon but belphie run boy run-
In all seriousness him and the demon will take the longest to get into terms. Heck not even Mc’s convincing has effect, because the demon really really doesn’t like the avatar of sloth for good reason.
Depending on how the demon even winded up with MC. Belphie would also not like the demon.
That...is until something actually bad happens to MC-
The demon might blindly pin it on belphie but the thing is- he’s also panicking because if he and his brothers were there and the demon was there- wHO TF IS WITH THE TEENAGER-
He...didnt want to have what he did to MC happen again. Let him be the last one to harm the spunky human. I even considered him and the demon to never actually get along no matter how long of a time but...again it all depends on the Hows and Whys.
“I...Care for them as much as you do. Just- Tsk... I don’t need you to believe me.”
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thatsamericano ¡ 3 years ago
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To Be a Gardener in Love with a Prince
Pairing/Characters: America/Romano, Prussia cameo. Human AU.
Ratings/Warnings: Teen, for cursing. No warnings.
Word Count: 2440
Summary: Savino makes a flower delivery in the middle of the night as he usually does, but this time Alfred wakes up.
A/N: For @aphrarepairweek2021 Day 2, “Royalty.” Inspired by this popular text post, which screams Romerica to me.
Savino checked to make sure that the small bouquet of thornless roses he’d prepared earlier were securely strapped to his chest as he approached the castle entrance. Gilbert, the palace guard, raised a single pale eyebrow him.
“Again, Savi? What is this, the third time this week?”
Savino scowled at him. “Shut up.”
Gilbert laughed and got in position to lift him up towards the first foothold on the stone wall. “You know, it might be easier to just tell Prince Alfred how you feel. That way you wouldn’t have to climb into his bedroom every night just to leave him flowers.”
Savino grunted and stretched up to place his hand over a balcony ledge. “If I wanted your advice, I would’ve fucking asked.”
Gilbert turned back to watch the area outside the castle. “Whatever you say, Romeo.”
Savino frowned to himself as he leveraged himself up onto the balcony. Gilbert’s comparison was strangely apt. They weren’t from feuding families, but he had about as much chance with Prince Alfred as Romeo and Juliet had of ending up together. Alfred was the eldest prince, born with more wealth and power than most people could even contemplate. Savino was just the guy who’d been hired to tend to the plants in the castle’s garden.
Alfred was pretty strange, as far as royalty went. Savino had been kicked around a lot in his life, and most people from the upper class wouldn’t bother to speak to him, because they thought a title and inherited wealth made them better than a mere commoner like Savino, especially one who got soil under their fingernails each day from toiling in a garden. But Alfred wasn’t like that. They’d met one day while Alfred was guiding his horse back to the stables, and Savino had bowed and called him “Your Royal Highness,” as he had been trained to his entire life. Alfred had chuckled, told Savino he could stand, and that he was more comfortable being called “Alfred,” and that he didn’t think he was better than anyone else just because he was a prince. The entire encounter was bizarre as hell, especially when Alfred shook his hand and asked who Savino was like they were equals.
The next day, he came back, just to chat and get to know the new gardener better. Alfred asked him questions about the seaside town he’d been born in, his life, and his family, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything Savino had to say. Alfred kept visiting, and he talked about himself too, but not in a pompous or arrogant way. Usually it was funny anecdotes about his younger brother, his parents, or the boring meetings he had to attend. Occasionally, he’d complain about how he kept getting offers of marriages on behalf of princesses from other countries. Alfred didn’t want to marry some girl he’d met only once or twice simply because it would create an advantageous political alliance.
“Who would you wanna marry?” Savino had asked him once.
Alfred frowned thoughtfully. “I dunno. Someone who likes me, and I like her. Someone I can talk to for hours on end without getting bored, the way I can talk to you. Someone who makes me feel excited when I wake up, because I know I’ll get to see them that day.”
“You want to marry for love, then,” Savino concluded.
“Doesn’t everybody?”
It was at that point Savino realized that, against all his preconceived notions, Alfred had become one of his closest friends at the castle. A few months after that, he came to the painful realization that he’d fallen in love with a goddamn prince. It didn’t have anything to do with some silly fantasy about rising above his current station. He just loved Alfred, for his carefree smile, windswept blond hair, the way he’d take an extra pastry from the kitchen to make sure Savino got to eat lunch in the afternoons, and all those times he got down on his hands and knees to pull weeds out of a flowerbed with Savino just because he “looked like he could use a little help.” He loved Alfred’s tight hugs, his hilariously accurate impression of the king, the glee in Alfred’s voice when he called out for “Vinny,” the nickname he’d given Savino only a couple weeks after they’d first met, and the fact that Alfred had been so happy he’d bounced on his feet after Savino started calling him Fredo.
If Alfred had been a knight or a stable boy, Savino would have tried to figure out if he could be interested in men romantically. And then, if it seemed like a real possibility, he would have done something about his feelings. As it was, Alfred was so far out of his league that all Savino could do was pick a few flowers and leave him anonymous bouquets while he was sleeping. A confession of any kind was completely out of the realm of possibility.
After reaching that first balcony, Savino had to do a bit more careful climbing to reach the highest window, which led into the prince’s bedroom. Every time he delivered flowers to Alfred, Savino wished he could get into the castle like a normal person instead of risking life and limb. Unfortunately, Gilbert was the only guard Savino trusted not to run to the king and alert him about an intruder “harassing” his oldest son. If he was accused of trying to harm a member of the royal family, Savino could be sentenced to death, and Alfred’s protestations might not be enough to save him.
Savino wiggled through the open window, grateful that Alfred habitually left his window up in the warm summer evenings as he slept. Savino couldn’t have delivered his flowers if Alfred hadn’t been quite so trusting.
The room was dark, and he only had a bit of moonlight to guide him. But after so many clandestine visits, Savino was familiar with the layout of Alfred’s bedroom, and he was confident that he could tiptoe across the plush, carpeted floor, locate the empty vase on the third shelf of Alfred’s bookcase, leave his roses, and then retreat without Alfred having any clue he was ever here.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t counting on a footstool to be placed directly in the shadow cast by Alfred’s enormous four-poster bed. Savino stubbed his toe on the damn footstool, and hissed instead of screeching out a curse like he normally would have at the unexpected, sharp pain.
The bedcovers rustled as Alfred slowly began to wake up. “What’s going on? Who’s there?”
Savino clenched his jaw and silently prayed Alfred wouldn’t see him. If he just stayed perfectly still and didn’t breathe too loudly, maybe Fredo would assume he’d been dreaming and go back to sleep. Then Savino could get the fuck out of here with some shred of dignity left.
Too late. Alfred shifted up into a sitting position and reached over to the side table for his glasses. He put them on and squinted through the darkness. “Vinny?” he asked. “Is that you?”
Savino coughed and tried to deepen his voice. “It doesn’t matter who I am. Just go back to sleep.”
“It is you!” Alfred grinned, shoved the covers back, and bounded towards him with a remarkable amount of energy for someone who’d just woken up only a few seconds ago.  “What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Did you need to talk to me about something?”
“I… uh…” Savino couldn’t figure out what to say, and he couldn’t figure out where to look. His best friend, who he was hopelessly in love with, was wondering why Savino had snuck into his room long past midnight. If he looked up, he would see Alfredo’s goofy, oblivious smile and his hair that was mussed adorably from being rubbed across his pillow while he slept. If he cast his gaze eye level or lower, he would be looking at the prince’s goddamn silk pajamas. Anything he saw would be too intimate or too much.
Alfred stepped even closer and tilted his head down. “Dude, are those… roses? Why would you have roses strapped to your chest?”
Savino squeezed his eyes shut and hoped Alfred couldn’t see how close he was to bursting into tears. “I can explain, Fredo, I swear.”
Alfred gasped. “Oh my God! You’re the one who’s been leaving flowers in my room! I can’t believe this!”
“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t my place, and I had no right to—"
Savino couldn’t even stutter out a full apology, because the next thing he knew, Alfred was hugging him and giggling in his ear. Not only hugging him and giggling, but picking Savino up and spinning him around in the air.
After several rotations, he finally set a baffled, dizzy Savino back down on his feet. Alfred shifted back a little to beam down at him, but kept his hands lightly resting on Savino’s waist for reasons Savino couldn’t begin to fathom.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was trying to apologize,” Savino said slowly, to emphasize the words. “For breaking into your private bedroom. For giving you gifts that are a little strange for friends to give each other, no matter how close they are.” Maybe Alfred had missed the romantic subtext of everything he’d done? It was the only explanation Savino could think of for why he was reacting like this.
Alfred shook his head, still smiling. “Vinny, dude, you don’t have to apologize for that. The next time you want to come into my room, you can just ask. I don’t want you breaking your neck trying to climb a wall or something.”
“But what about the, um…”
“The flowers? I had no idea it was you. I mean, you are the gardener here, so it makes sense, but when Mattie brought it up to me, I was like nah, no way. Vinny’s way too cute and charming to go for someone like me. He could have anyone he wanted.”
Savino’s head was spinning, and his heart was pounding, but not from anxiety this time. “You’ve told your brother about me?”
“Heck, I’ve told everyone about you. I’m pretty sure they’re sick of hearing me talk about you so much. But the only people I’ve told everything to are Mattie and my manservant, Tolys. The rest of them would try to tell me I shouldn’t be in love with you, either because you’re a gardener or because you’re not a girl. I’d rather not have to hear their stupid opinions about you, because they don’t know shit.”
“You… you love me?” It sounded fake when Savino said it out loud, but he was only repeating what Fredo had just told him.
Alfred frowned, suddenly looking worried and insecure. “Was I not supposed to say that? I didn’t misread everything, did I? Were those just friendship flowers?”
Savino shook his head, crying and laughing at the same time. “Tesoro, there’s no such thing.”
“Oh, good. Does that mean I can kiss you now?”
Savino answered him by planting his hands on Alfred’s shoulders and leaning up to kiss him. Alfred smiled into the kiss and tightened his grip on Alfred’s shoulders. The roses were crushed in between them, but for the moment he had more important things to focus on.
By the time Savino broke the kiss, they were both grinning stupidly at each other. “Wow, we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Alfred said.
Savino laughed. “It would’ve been easier than climbing into your room to leave flowers all those times.”
Alfred reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not sure how, but I’m gonna figure out a way to be with you. Before we met, I’d resigned to marrying some random princess for political reasons. The best I could’ve hoped was learning how to like her eventually. But now I know what it’s like to be happy, to be with you, and I’m too selfish to give that up. I won’t.”
Savino swallowed a lump in his throat. “Even if it meant you’d have to give up everything else in your life?”
“Even then.” He brushed a featherlight kiss over Savino’s temple. “You’re worth it, sweetheart.”
Savino’s logical side told him he shouldn’t believe Alfred, because he was making ridiculous promises no one in his position would actually keep. But the way he was treating him so softly and the way he’d called him sweetheart made Savino believe him. He smiled as he pulled back and walked over to Alfred’s bookcase. He unwrapped the roses from their makeshift wrapping and arranged them in Alfred’s empty vase.
“The flowers I got you are horribly squished, by the way.”
“Well, that’s okay. I’d rather get squished flowers from you than unsquished flowers from anyone else.”
That sentiment was so adorably, earnestly Alfred that Savino couldn’t help himself. As soon as he walked back to Alfred, he kissed him again, and Alfred eagerly reciprocated.
“I guess this is goodbye, for now. I need to sneak back out before another guard comes on duty.”
Alfred tipped his forehead against his, and they swayed back and forth in a slow mimicry of a dance. “I’ll help you sneak in tomorrow. If you come by earlier, you’ll get to stay for longer.”
He’d love that. He loved Alfredo, and it was complicated, but no longer hopeless. He backed up towards the open window, and Alfred walked with him. “I love you, Fredo. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I love you too. Will you be safe getting down?”
“I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”
Alfred peered out the window as Savino climbed out the window and very carefully descended down the castle wall. He was still standing by the window by the time Savino had made it to the ground, and he only left after Savino waved to indicate that he had made it down safely.
Gilbert smirked at Savino as he was walking past him. “Another successful flower delivery?”
Savino shrugged. “The flowers were a little squished, but I don’t think Alfredo will mind.” I’d rather get squished flowers from you than unsquished flowers from anyone else. Savino grinned at the memory of what Alfred had said. He probably wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for at least a week.
Gilbert’s chortling followed Savino as he walked down the well-worn path between his own small house and the castle where Alfred and his family slept. His smile stayed with him even longer, until he was drifting off to sleep in his own bed.
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eleutheramina ¡ 4 years ago
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Is Scoopshipping Good Writing? An Extremely Long Text Post
This is partially a response post to criticism of the ship and Jack’s development in the Dark Signers arc, and partially my own analysis of Jack and Carly’s relationship--specifically whether it is congruous with Jack’s Fortune Cup characterization and whether it says anything meaningful besides just invoking the Power of Love. 
Introduction
It’s been over 10 years since 5D’s first aired, which is surreal. I still remember thinking the whole concept was ludicrous at first, but it eventually became my favorite Yugioh series (though I usually ignore the series post-episode 64 and consider the first 64 episodes by themselves). It was really primarily because of these two fools that I started watching in earnest:
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I shipped them big time. Even now, I still really adore their relationship. Most of my ships I end up becoming less obsessed with over time, but Jack/Carly continues even to this day to captivate my heart and imagination. 
Recently, though, I’ve been thinking about the question, is their relationship good writing? Especially in how consistent it is with Jack’s characterization in the Fortune Cup arc, and whether or not it works to develop him as a character afterward.
(Of course, my personal stakes in the question is, should I be shipping them? While ships obviously don’t have to be well-written in canon or anything like that for someone to ship them, it’s significant to me because so much of the reason I liked Jack/Carly in the past is because it did feel decent character development, especially in contrast to what came after the Dark Signers arc.)
Why I’m Writing This
This sense of doubt about the writing of their relationship is especially spurred on by this character analysis of Jack:
“A lot of people seem to think that the introduction of Carly and the whole romancey subplot developed Jack as a character and for the better. I could not disagree more. If there's one word I'd associate with Jack prior to his entire development and dignity as a character going down the crapper, I'd have to say it's 'ego'. How did Rex/Jaeger get him to sell out his friends, steal Yusei's stuff and join him? He appealed to Jack's ego. How did he persuade him to stay after his first loss to Yusei? By telling him about the signer and reassuring him, again, that he was special. Overall, Jack just struck me as a very focused and driven character, intent on achieving his own goals on his own. He actively pushed away everyone who tried to get close to him, most obviously Mikage, who is consistently worrying over him but whom he never spares as much as a thought or a kind word for in return. Ever. This egocentric attitude is also, at the risk of over-analyzing, consistent with Red Dragon Archfiend, both in its moving away every defensive obstacle in its way and in its actively destroying any monsters that didn't join it in attacking. I generally don't like going onto this level of symbolism because it so easily devolves into semantic nonsense, but given the parallels here and the similarly fitting effects of Yusei's Stardust, I thought it worth mentioning. This would also lend a bit of further significance to him handing the card over to Yusei before the tournament, not only affirming his egocentric wish to beat Yusei at his strongest (and thus redeem himself for their last duel) but also his rejection of the self-sacrificing/others first mentality that the card represents. His obsession with Red Dragon Archfiend after that duel is also consistent with this interpretation, with Jack pushing himself even harder to prove to himself that his way is correct.
“Overall, I don't object to the notion of Jack learning to be less ego-centric as development, but the way the dark signer arc handled it was beyond contrived and ham-fisted, pushing him into an impromptu romance that was completely inconsistent with egocentric personality thus far and completely glossing over the far more interesting questions of how he'd rebuild his ego after essentially losing his entire self-image as the king in front of everyone. Instead, apparently all he needed was for a crazy lady to abduct him from hospital, blackmail him for the sake of her own career, then give a few lines of generic encouragement and invoke the power of love. From where I'm standing, it was obvious that he was intended to be Yusei's main foil, representing a pragmatic, egocentric worldview to contrast with his idealistic views on bonds and friendship, but equally clear that that idea was quickly scrapped in favor of shipping bait and deifying Yusei.
“Jack Atlus, he deserved a far better closure to his development than Stockholm syndrome.” --Aea (http://neoarkcradle.net/forum/showthread.php?tid=26&pid=735)
Before I get to what I think is actually pretty solid about this analysis, I want to address some points. The idea of Carly being “crazy” is pretty hyperbolic. Calling what she did “abduct[ion]” is just inaccurate--after all, Jack asks her to take him out of the hospital, and he also refuses to return when Mikage and Ushio go to get him. Of course, he tries to leave her place in episode 31, but he also seems to willingly return there at the end of the episode. Because she wasn’t really kidnapping him or holding him at her home against his will, their relationship isn’t Stockholm syndrome.
I do think there’s some validity to the idea of her blackmailing him for her career. She does try to draw attention to him when they’re out in public in episode 31 in order to get him to stick around so that she can get a scoop from him. As comically as it is presented in the episode, that’s nonetheless what she does (and she also tries to leverage his lack of gratitude, too!). But she does ultimately feels remorse for that and resolves to not write any article that would hurt a duelist (even despite the fact that Jack lets her write what she wants about him), which is glossed over in this analysis of Jack.
I also don’t think that the encouragement she gave Jack was super original. Here’s the exact quote (which she says in response to Jack divulging his past to her):
“If you get the picture that much, why don’t you just start your life over again? The old Jack died in that battle with Yusei. Now it’s time for the real Jack Atlas to live. Plus, it’d help you in becoming a real King, right?”
Essentially, she tells him that he can get back up again after his loss and be even better than he was before. Yeah, at face value, it is pretty generic. But I do think that it does speak into a lot of what he was struggling with, at least as it is depicted after his defeat.  Now, whether these are things that make sense for him to struggle with is a different issue that I’ll discuss in a later section.
And finally, I do think that Jack/Carly invokes the power of love trope. At least, Jack invokes it himself when he is talking back to Godwin in episode 63: “No matter how much I deny it, I cannot escape from what’s known as ‘bonds.’ And what helped me understand that was one woman’s love!” I don’t think the power of love is necessarily a bad thing, and I think it makes sense for someone who gave up their bonds from the past to pursue his own goal to be able to be moved and changed by someone genuinely caring for them.
Now, whether or not it was a good decision to have love be the driving force in Jack’s character development during the Dark Signers arc is a different question, which brings me to the points of Aea’s analysis that I find really compelling and want to grapple with.
What I read Aea as primarily saying is that Jack in the Fortune Cup arc is depicted as a highly egocentric person, and that his plotline with Carly in the Dark Signers arc is a) inconsistent with that previous characterization and b) not as interesting as a plotline in which his egocentrism could continue to serve as foil to Yusei’s worldview.
I think a lot of that makes sense. I do think Jack was driven by his ego, and I do think that it might’ve been more interesting if his self-driven worldview were able to be given as much validity as Yusei’s idealistic, others-driven worldview, which is ultimately what is privileged. I can also see how Jack being primarily motivated by saving Carly during the latter half of the DS arc may be incongruous with his egocentrism just 20 or so episodes before.
At the same time, though, I think there are a lot of directions 5D’s could have gone which have the potential to be more interesting than the one it actually went, so rather than wondering about what could have been, it would be more worthwhile to examine Jack/Carly’s plotline and see whether or not it is inconsistent with Jack’s previous characterization, and also to see if it has any merit of its own as far as it develops Jack’s character. 
Particularly, I am going to argue that a) although perhaps not as well executed as it could be, it made sense for Jack’s character to need to change after the Fortune Cup arc, and the way it changes is not incongruous with his previous characterization. Indeed, Jack’s character development in the Dark Signers arc centers around him reconceptualizing what being a King is.
Also, b) Jack and Carly’s relationship ultimately deals with and says interesting things about the idea of being driven by oneself that, rather than totally undermining the mentality that initially drove Jack to abandon his friends to become King, gives it some nuance.
Point A: It made sense for Jack’s character to need to change after the Fortune Cup arc, and the way it changes is not incongruous with his previous characterization. Indeed, Jack’s character development in the Dark Signers arc centers around him reconceptualizing what being a King is.
So throughout the course of one arc, Jack goes from being a man who is motivated primarily by himself and his desires (to the point of being willing to put down others for them), to a man whose main reason for action is someone else’s well being. It does seem like a stark change. Rewatching the Jack/Carly duel, the sheer amount of concern for Carly that Jack shows is pretty astounding.
But I think that it’s understandable for there to need to be a change. For one, the particular reason why Jack lost to Yusei in episode 26 in the first place is because he tried to win using the same strategy as before--he wanted to redeem himself for his first near loss. Clearly there is a need for a change: Jack loses not once but twice to Yusei in the same season, and Yusei also cites Jack’s pride as a King as his reason for his loss.
The drama between Yusei and Jack during the Fortune Cup arc is driven by Jack losing to Yusei and needing to duel and beat him again to redeem himself and prove he’s the better duelist--that he truly deserves the title of King. In episode 6, when Jack realizes he would have lost to Yusei, it’s clear that he’s not driven by how his fans perceive him. While his fans have no idea that he lost, he’s nonetheless still bothered because he, the King, knows. In episode 8, Jack feels like he’s not the King anymore, even though Mikage says he still seems like one. The cheers of his fans sound hollow because he knows he doesn’t deserve them.
Something I find interesting is Jack’s awareness of his counterfeit Kingship revealed through his calling himself a clown. After his initial defeat, Jack asks Mikage if he’s a clown in episode 8, in episode 25 he asks Godwin to release Rally and co as “reward for a clown,” and in episode 31, he also uses the language of a clown when he talks to Carly: “Back then, I gave up everything, and what I gained from it was the path to being a King who continually acts like a clown as he lies about his true identity.”
Because of this, the way I see Jack’s character is that his identity as the King was made counterfeit at almost the very beginning of the series (episode 5). He then spends the entire rest of the Fortune Cup arc trying to regain his original conception of his King identity, only to ultimately fail. From Jack’s own language, I think we’re meant to see this as Jack’s foolishness. While it may have seemed fine for two years, the King identity that he had held onto no longer worked for him. When confronted by someone from his past, his King identity starts to crumble--first he’s defeated not once but twice, then it’s revealed he’s actually from Satellite, etc. In episode 25, he even shows awareness that Godwin baited him with the idea of being a duel king; when Godwin asks if that isn’t what he wanted, Jack says that he wanted to rule as “the King [he] truly desired to be.” Indeed, it’s revealed that he wasn’t even valued by Godwin for himself, but rather as a means of getting to Yusei. It makes sense, then, that his development after his defeat should center around letting go of his original conception of his King identity and discovering something more true.
All of these realizations are those that Jack comes to more or less on his own; Carly even says that Jack already “get[s] the picture.” So I do think it is congruous with Jack’s Fortune Cup characterization for him to need to find a new way of being King in the Dark Signers arc. Hence the need to start over, as Carly suggests. (And which is revisited in episode 37 when Jack talks to Mikage again, episode 59 when Carly does her fortune telling stuff, etc.)
I think it’s because Carly gives him hope after he loses his King identity that she makes such a mark on him and effectively becomes his main motivation in the DS arc. And I mean, Jack in the DS arc is still pretty aloof and pushes others away—he makes it clear to Yusei that he “hasn’t become anyone’s friend” in episode 45, and he really doesn’t rely on anyone else even as he angsts over Carly. No one even knows the identity of the Dark Signer he’s fighting. While Yusei still draws on his friends for strength, we see Jack continue his independent streak. Heck, he even pushes Carly away! (And she honestly probably would have been better off and not have gotten killed if she had just stuck with him, but that’s for another AU...)
An aside - I sometimes read people saying that they think Mikage could have filled the same role Carly did. Maybe, if written differently, she could have. But I think it’s notable that when Jack is angsting about having lost his sense of being a King in episode 8, Mikage is not really able to understand or speak to him in a way that actually meets him where he is. She clearly cares about him, but I think she’s not able to get past the image of the King that she and his fans project on him. I think Carly is able to empathize with his pain more. When Jack calls himself foolish and a clown, Carly doesn’t try to convince him he’s wrong--instead, she says something more like, “Sure, that’s true--but that doesn’t have to still be who you are.”
Point B: Jack and Carly’s relationship ultimately deals with and says interesting things about the idea of being driven by oneself that, rather than totally undermining the mentality that initially drove Jack to abandon his friends to become King, gives it some nuance.
I would argue that this is because Carly’s own character, as well as their relationship in general, deals a lot with themes of selfishness. While not presented as starkly as Jack’s self-drive is, it is obvious that Carly is someone who is self-driven and desires to achieve her goals, not completely unlike Jack. Her first appearance has her going past a swath of reporters to talk to Godwin, and her subsequent interaction with her boss shows that her job is precarious and that the scoops she seeks after are at least in part to keep her job. Like Jack, she came from a lower class background (although “the streets” rather than Satellite), and she doesn’t seem to have any close ties (Angela the reporter might count, but that’s a stretch). And when she goes to talk with Yusei and Dick Pitt after their duel, her concern is not with their wellbeing but about getting information from them for a scoop. “Straight ahead is the only way for me,” is something she repeats, showing that she knows where she wants to go and is determined to get there.
Indeed, Carly would not have met Jack at all if she had not snuck into the hospital trying to learn if he was truly from Satellite. She is someone who is driven primarily by herself, albeit more innocuously than Jack is. This also underlies why she was willing to “blackmail” Jack into going to the amusement park with her. She needs a scoop and is ready to do what it takes to get it.
But, we see how in the same episode, she starts thinking less of herself and more about another--Jack. She thinks, “He’s really hurting inside. And here am I trying to write an article about it. Am I a bad person for that?” She considers what he is going through, rather than just her own needs. When she defends Jack to Angela, she is driven not by her desire to keep Angela from getting her scoop, but a genuine care for Jack. And when she figures out he’s going to the tower to look at Satellite, it’s only by inhabiting his point of view and thinking about what he may want. Yet the question she asks herself--whether or not it’s bad to be writing a scoop about him (after all, it is her job, as Angela points out)--is an important one for her.
As self-driven as Carly is, she realizes she has limits--that is, she would not go as far as to hurt another person to achieve her own goals. Jack, on the other hand, has already done that, putting Rally in peril and taking Yusei’s card in order to get to Neo Domino City and become King.
We see again how Carly can be self-driven when she tries to get closer to Jack after he leaves, and when it is ultimately an illusion of happiness with Jack that causes her to fall back into her Dark Signer persona. Yet even then, it is clear that she does not want to hurt anyone, and Jack repeatedly reiterates this.
This culminates in the conversation she has with Jack before she dies: Carly: I loved cheering people on who tried their hardest like you, Jack. Despite that, because I tried to wish for such selfish happiness, I must’ve been wrong for doing so, huh? Jack: That’s nonsense! Everyone has the right to wish for happiness. If you’re saying that’s a crime, then I’m just as guilty!
Carly says herself that she was motivated by her own desires. Jack, in affirming her desire to obtain happiness, also affirms the ambition that drove him to abandon his friends. However, we see in how Carly is reluctant to hurt others that while it is not bad to want to pursue one’s goals and happiness, it is important to consider the impact on other people. It wasn’t bad for Carly to want to be with Jack, but it would obviously be bad for that to necessitate the deaths of many; it’s not bad for her to want to write a successful story, but it’s bad for her to take advantage of duelists’ like Jack’s pain to tell that story. This allows us to view the Jack in the FC arc in a new light: his desire to escape Satellite and become a King wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t right of him to harm others in order to get there.
Ultimately, Jack and Carly’s relationship is about two people learning how to pursue their happiness and also learning to put each other’s happiness first.
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bitch-in-a-bag ¡ 3 years ago
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can we talk about how the LGBT movement has changed in the past 15 years?
in the light of the events surrounding Chris chan, and people prioritizing pronouns over the rape of a woman with dementia, I think it displays just how... different things are.
i personally feel like it's been co-opted by the more loud and entitled mtfs/ males/penis-havers/whatever pc term exists for the XY chromosome'd, who go too far and aren't reasonably kept in check. I think terf no longer has meaning anymore because it's just become a word we use to silence anyone that disagrees with a trans woman. immediately you're going to call me a terf, I accept that, but please continue reading. I may suprise you. calling someone who's transgender a terf is kinda messed up anyway, and that's exactly why im writing this.
I also think that everyone else (allies, ftms, etc) have followed suit because they've written this messed up narrative that EvErYoNe iS VaLiD. except for trans penis-havers, bc they're the most oppressed and the most valid, actually, regardless of their experiences.
I never used to believe the above because it was always written off as terf shit, and ignoring it kinda benefitted me, but between seeing ftms getting bashed for refusing to follow new "TME" rules as if they aren't trans too, and seeing outrage around Chris chans pronouns, I think it's time to start saying things that may make people uncomfortable. innocent people are already getting hurt by this, and we need to do better. it's time to get uncomfortable.
I want to remind you that perception is both the relying factor, and also the downfall of newer lgbt theory. if my profile were mtf coded, maybe it currently is, you'd call me a self hating trans and I wouldn't be that big of a deal. terfs would probably target me.
if my profile was ftm coded, I would be absolutely skewered for daring to speak out about these issues, even though they do actually affect ftms disproportionately. terfs would try to convince me that being trans is a plague and a mental illness, and to just ~be a cis woman~!
and if assumed cis, I would 100% be assumed radfem terf, and everything I say would immediately be dismissed because of the genuine damage terfs have done. but terfs would still probably flock to this post and berate me for daring to validate trans people At All, because to them, being transgender is a mental illness akin to an eating disorder, and "giving in" to it is "self harm". clearly I don't believe that, so hopefully you'll give me at least some benefit of the doubt.
so, does my identity matter? i have a feeling you'll say yes, because it gives us a good idea of experiences I do and don't have expertise in, and thus room to talk about. but I refuse to directly identify what I actually am because I want the focus of any resulting conversation to be my message and not my self identification. if you read between the lines and figure it out that's just fine, but I would like to be heard first and foremost.
my profile is thus an attempt at being cis female coded, somewhat out of comfort, and that is likely what I'll be assumed to be due to the beliefs I am expressing, even though there is a substantial risk of getting misgendered and dismissed, no matter what my birth sex may actually be. i will give you a hint about my identity: I am transgender, on HRT and everything, and I have been personally affected by all of this. rest assured, this is well within my lane to speak about, and it does matter if you misgender me.
I want you to really think about that. before you respond, really think about if someone saying words on tumblr, talking about their OWN experiences and their take on recent history that applies to themself, really more worthy of being misgendered and harassed than... someone who said they transitioned so they could date lesbians, and then raped their own mother with dementia.
is that fair or just? or is this just a new way of letting people with penises do whatever they want? I personally think it's the latter. we need to hold people like Chris chan accountable without getting caught up on something as minor **in comparison** as misgendering and self identification. Is it sad and confusing that someone who self IDs as transgender became 1:1 with the most dangerous stereotypes that exist for trans women? Of course it is. But it doesn't mean that self identification is suddenly more important than a literal crime being committed.
I would normally dismiss it as a fluke or outright trolling if the evidence weren't so damning that this is in fact a real event that happened. If I hadn't seen this happen to other people, and if I didn't literally know another mtf person who used their dysphoria as an excuse for date rape on multiple occasions and never got any consequences for it.
It's not a one time thing, it's a developing problem that we need to stop before more people have their lives ruined. I can't even imagine how traumatizing and messed up it is for an FTM person to be date raped, by another transgender person no less. When I, an abuse survivor, told people of this MTFs red flags, people violently silenced me. People who didn't know I was trans called me a terf and transphobic. We, as a community, could've protected someone from getting date raped, and we didn't. Trans women can be awful, horrible fucking people, because they are people. Protecting them at all costs is wrong. Protecting them from transphobia is what we should be doing.
That being said, misgendering is still skeevy, and I haven't done anything like raped a disabled woman who is no longer able to consent, or date raped my own partner. if you give a shit about respecting my identity, please use they/them for me. if not, use visual perception and make assumptions that will most likely be incorrect, skew your own argument, and put me on the same level as a rapist, and arguably a fetishist. And I do need to remind you that calling someone transgender a rapist and a fetishist without evidence is still definitely classic transphobia, to the letter, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that.
as someone who is same sex attracted, I also want to bring this up as well.
in the US in the past 15 years, the movement as a whole pretty much went "YEAH BORN THIS WAY" with Lady Gaga, and then jumped ship to prioritize mostly mtfs at every angle. do mtfs need support? absolutely. but they don't need misguided toxic positivity, and that's what it's turned into.
it's gotten genuinely homophobic to the point where actually homosexual people are constantly being erased and demonized via "genital preferences are a fetish uwu", and vulva havers, especially the trans ones, are constantly being told to shut up about their experiences.
as much as you want to deny bioessentialism, its still very much well and alive with newer trans movement sentiments when we classify ftms as not worthy of speaking about their own issues with terms like "TME". it's also incredibly ignorant towards FTMs who pass, but dress feminine for comfort, and get mistaken for MTF, and treated like garbage because of it. They are not remotely exempt from misogyny, transphobia, or the intersection of the two, and it is not anyone's job to tell them they don't ever experience that when they do. Turning ftms and biological homosexuals into our enemies-- especially when the actual cause is transphobia and harmful gender stereotypes-- does nothing good or healthy for our movement.
Dont be mistaken, though, passing isn't the focus or end all be all here, it's the perception of others that ends up drastically effecting your experiences. There are words like misogyny that imply treatment via birth sex, however this too can be reliant on external perception. If an MTF individual either transitions very young, has an abundance of resources to transition, or just gets lucky and passes well, chances are she will experience a lot more misogyny than people may give credit to. inversely, someone who just started questioning yesterday, but lived as a male their whole life up until then, they genuinely cannot speak about misogyny with that much room because they simply haven't experienced it at an accurate enough angle or for enough time to understand it as a repeated and sociological force.
It works the other way as well, though; someone who's known that they're trans for a long time and haven't had the resources to transition, or do not or cannot pass in the eyes of society; these people suffer pain that we don't neccesarily have a word for yet, imo. It makes dysphoria worse and it makes living seem hopeless. And as a community, we deal with this is in a really messed up way by over-validating them instead of solving the core issue at hand. and people who suffer from this, but also acknowledge they can't claim what they haven't experienced, are left with nowhere to go.
And its important to acknowledge these things because they're integral to the over-encompassing trans experience. Instead of lying to everyone and telling everyone they pass/giving out unconditional positive regard, our focus should be making it so that it **doesn't matter if you pass**. that you're still worth respect and dignity if you're transgender, no matter what passing is or what it means to you, and no matter how you present. But also, if you do something awful, you still need to be held accountable, especially if you use yourself, your body, or your trans status to contribute to other axi of oppression.
Transphobia is a word that encompasses and addresses all of that, regardless of birth sex. "TME" shuts that down in favor of only letting MTF's speak. Which is still very bio-essentialist, and I can't help but feel like we've gone full circle.
Once upon a time you couldn't even get married if your partner had the same genitals as you. in the US, this was less than 7 years ago. and if you care about human rights activism, you know damn well that legal modification is not the end all be all. people who are genuinely homosexual are still oppressed, but the trans movement has started stepping on them to make ground we don't deserve. homosexuals are ok and valid. it's not a genital preference, and the prescence of trans people doesn't make conversion therapy sentiments ok, ever.
we've gone full circle, and it's not right.
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anubislover ¡ 5 years ago
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Siblings Lost and Found
(Ikkaku's been the Heart Pirates' mechanic for a year, but is she just another one of Law's subordinates, or does she mean more? Special thanks (and blame) to @shambledsurgeon for suggesting this idea and @scribblrhob for suggesting the song "In My Life" by The Beatles for maximum feels. Any tears are their fault)
It was well past midnight when Ikkaku’s shift was finally over. Clione as he come to relieve her, and she couldn’t be more grateful. In the year since she’d become the Heart Pirates’ mechanic, she’d discovered that life on the high seas wasn’t always as exciting as it sounded.
In fact, with the ocean so calm and little more to be seen beyond schools of fish and the occasional shark, it was hard to stay awake and focused. She’d resorted to drinking three cups of coffee and playing with her hair, braiding and straightening until finally settling on a pair of simple pigtails, mostly for the sake of getting her thick locks off the back of her neck. The Polar Tang had been underwater for a while, so it was stuffy and humid—Bepo would start complaining soon, and Law would have to agree to surface.
Thinking about the poor Mink, Ikkaku decided to take a detour to the library. Aside from the operatory and the morgue, it was the room with the best air conditioning and Bepo could sometimes be found bunked up in there if his quarters became too hot. If he were awake, maybe she’d sit up with him for a bit; with all the caffeine in her system, she knew she wouldn’t be drifting off anytime soon.
The library was in fact occupied, but not by who she’d expected. Slumped over one of the tables was Law, medical books and papers scattered beneath him. He’d been suffering another bout of insomnia for the past week, but normally when he was like that, he spent his nights in the lab or his office.
Must be avoiding Shachi and Penguin’s hovering, she thought, shaking her head. When the captain got like this, those two always went out of their way to try to force him to take care of himself. As much as Law griped about it being insubordination, she was positive he secretly appreciated it; after all, they were two of his closest friends. Practically his brothers.
She wished her own brothers had been like that.
Ikkaku quietly crept into the room to lower the lights—Law must have been truly exhausted to have fallen asleep while working. She briefly wondered if she should wake him long enough to help him move to the couch, but she decided against it—he’d suffer some nasty neck cramps in the morning, but it was better than disturbing his much-needed rest.
When she tried to remove the pen from his hand, however, Law stirred. Ikkaku froze, half crouched above him, silently praying that he hadn’t awoken. She was close enough that, even in the dim light, she could see the way his face scrunched up. Was he dreaming? She could see his eyes darting about under his eyelids, as if searching for something, and his breath came out in shuddering little gasps.
Law was surrounded by choking death. White hospital walls were engulfed in flame and crumbling around him as he ran through the winding, labyrinthine halls.
Mother and father were dead. The soldiers were killing everyone they saw. Flevance was in ruins. It was hot and everything reeked of smoke, blood, and stinking death. Wide, lifeless eyes stared at him in cold judgement as he sprinted past crumpled corpses.
You told her to stay put, they whispered maliciously. This is your fault.
No. He’d told her to hide in the closet for just a few minutes. He’d always intended to come back for her. He didn’t mean to leave his sister behind. He thought she’d be safe!
He had to get to Lamie!
There! The closet was straight ahead! He could hear Lamie inside, screaming for her big brother to save her.
He flung open the door only to find a woman with dark, curly hair and a bandana staring up at him instead.
“Law, it’s me…”
Taking in his pained and panicked expression, it was clear that Law was in the clutches of a pretty intense nightmare, and Ikkaku wasn’t the kind of woman who stood idly by while her captain was suffering.
Grateful that he didn’t have Kikoku on him to slice her to bits if he woke up in a hostile mood, she grabbed his shoulder and shook hard. “Law, it’s me. Hey, wake up!”
“Lamie?” he asked, eyes bleary and unfocused.
“Law, what’s—” Ikkaku started, only for her captain to grab her shoulder and pull her in for a hug. Immediately, she stiffened. Law was not a hugger. Sure, on good days he deigned to be hugged—mostly by Bepo—but he wasn’t the sort to initiate platonic, physical displays of affection.
“You’re ok,” he gasped. He squeezed her tightly and buried his head in her shoulder, breathing deeply. She didn’t smell like smoke or sickness or death.
She smelled like engine oil and coffee, though, with a hint of ginger lotion underneath. Scents that could never be associated with Lamie.
Reluctantly, he became aware of his surroundings. He wasn’t in the charred remains of the hospital. Wasn’t surrounded by the bodies of his friends and family, or soldiers pointing guns at him.
He was in his ship’s library, alone with his mechanic, who was staring at him in shock because he was practically crushing her to his chest.
Law mentally berated himself as he pushed Ikkaku away, brain finally catching up to his body. He’d fallen asleep, had a nightmare, and like some frightened child had latched onto the first person he saw upon being awoken. Disgusting, uncaptainlike behavior that never should have been witnessed by his subordinate.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes while trying to play it cool to retain some dignity. “I…thought you were someone else.”
“Someone named Lamie,” Ikkaku pressed, taking the seat beside him and reaching for his hand. “Law, please; I know I’ve only been around for a year, but if something’s bothering you—”
“It’s nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. ‘Nothing’ doesn’t cause nightmares. You can talk to me.”
“Fine, it’s not nothing, but it’s none of your damn business,” he growled, refusing to look at her. He felt irrationally angry; in his dream, he’d been so close to saving his sister, only for Ikkaku to replace her. Then, upon awakening, he’d had a faint moment of delusional hope that maybe Lamie really was alive, only to be replaced again.
Ikkaku recoiled, his harsh tone stinging as much as his words. It wasn’t any of her business because she was just his subordinate. Yet despite his creepy and sadistic tendencies, over the past year, she’d grown attached to him. He was caring and honorable and protective; everything she’d wished her brothers had been. In fact, she’d started to wonder if he felt a hint of brotherly affection towards her; he never seemed to give her more than a slap on the wrist for backtalk. Was quick to scare off unsavory men in taverns. Trusted her judgement when it came to the submarine’s engine, even though she’d been just an apprentice mechanic when he’d hired her.
Clearly, she’d looked too deeply into his actions. He tolerated her sass because he was too busy to reprimand her. Protected her because he couldn’t risk something happening to his mechanic. Accepted her input because he didn’t know enough to contradict her.
Ikkaku wasn’t anything special to him. Everything he did was for practical reasons.
Pulling away before she broke her own heart, she grumbled, “Fine, but I’m telling Penguin about this. You need to talk to someone, and if you don’t trust me—”
“I trust you,” Law stated, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed in confusion.
“You trust me to keep the Tang sailing. To tell you if the engine needs repairs or if there’s a maintenance issue. To have your back in a fight. You trust me like any captain should trust his subordinate.” As she stood up, she forced a smile; something she hadn’t had to do since joining his crew. “That’s the kind of trust that matters, right? That we both know how to do our jobs and keep each other alive on the treacherous, unforgiving sea. Anything else…well that’s just gravy, right?” Despite herself, her lip quivered slightly, forcing her to pretend to organize some of the books on the table so he wouldn’t see her moment of weakness.
From his seat, Law stared at her. In the year she’d been onboard, he’d determined his mechanic to be reckless, outspoken, and loyal. Compassionate to those she considered friends. Genuine. Determined. Intelligent. Vibrant.
Everything he’d imagined his sister would become.
Coming to a decision, Law grabbed Ikkaku’s forearm to get her attention. “Lamie…Lamie was my sister. She died in a hospital fire when I was a kid.”
“Oh gods,” Ikkaku whispered, free hand covering her mouth in horror.
“She wore pigtails,” he admitted, glancing at the twin bunches of hair. “Some days, it’s hard to remember her face, but I can always picture those.”
“I…shit, Law, I’ll take them out,” she offered, immediately reaching up to release the ties.
“Don’t. It’s fine. It just confused me. In the dream, I was searching for her. Everyone else was dead, and the hospital was burning all around me, but I had to find her. I’d told her to hide in a closet while I went to find mother and father, but they were already dead—”
“It’s ok,” she whispered, instinctively sitting back down so she could pull him into a hug. “You don’t need to tell me. I’m…that wasn’t your fault.” No wonder he was so reluctant to let people in. She’d heard about things like survivor’s guilt, and Bepo had implied that he’d lost a lot of people in his short life.
Ikkaku suddenly felt guilty for overstepping her boundaries. She should have let him come to her when he was ready instead of forcing her way in. Hell, she shouldn’t even be hugging him without permission!
But when she tried to pull away, she felt Law’s hand on her back, refusing to let her move an inch.
“You…make me miss her less. Her smile always brightened up the room. When she was sick, I spent a lot of my free time trying to cheer her up. To make her laugh. Sometimes, when you laugh, I close my eyes and pretend it’s hers. That I hadn’t failed, and she’d grown up to become a smart, vibrant young woman like you.”
Ikkaku worried her lip, mulling over his words and debating how she should respond. He’d opened up to her. Trusted her as more than a subordinate. She was something special to him.
He deserved to know she felt the same.
“Law, I…I grew up with four older brothers. All of them were dicks who wanted nothing to do with me. They’d cut my hair off, break my stuff, mock me for wanting to be a mechanic—hell, they once tried to abandon me in the woods.” She looked up at him with a small, sad smile. “So believe me when I say you didn’t fail. You did everything you could. Lamie was damn lucky to have such a loving, protective big brother.”
Law’s heart clenched. Honestly, he’d felt guilty, pushing his feelings for his sister onto Ikkaku. Partially because he felt like he was replacing Lamie; like he was trying to erase his mistakes. And partially because he knew it was unfair to Ikkaku. She deserved to be appreciated for herself, not as some substitute for a girl who died years ago.
But…she didn’t seem to mind. Considering her own brothers, perhaps Ikkaku had secretly appreciated those moments where he’d been a bit overprotective, or unconsciously spoiled her in some way. Perhaps Lamie would even approve of this coping mechanism. Perhaps his subconscious had put her in his dream to show him that, while it was too late for his sister, there was another girl he could still protect.
Such thoughts were better analyzed when he was less tired.
Arm dropping from its place at her back, he pulled away from the embrace. “Help me get to my quarters. Penguin will bitch for hours if he finds out I fell asleep in the library again.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Ikkaku said, tugging him to his feet. It seemed their little moment was over, but she didn’t mind, especially if it meant Law would actually get some rest. “Want me to call Bepo? He’d be happy to let you use him as a pillow.”
“No. He needs his rest. We’ll surface first thing in the morning—the sub’s getting too stuffy.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, wrapping one of his long arms around her shoulders to better support his lethargic body as they walked down the hall in comfortable silence.
When they arrived at his quarters, she asked, “Sure you don’t need anything? I drank too much coffee, so I’ll be awake for a while. I could clean up the library, or—”
“If you want to help…” Law trailed off, hesitating. He internally debated voicing his request before finally swallowing his pride. “Stay with me a bit. To make sure I actually do fall back asleep. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Yeah. Sure, I can do that,” she said with a surprised smile.
Stepping aside, he let her into the room. “Just so you know, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll cut out your tongue and preserve it in formaldehyde.”
Her grin sharpened into something a bit more teasing. Ah, there was the creepy captain she knew and loved. “As if anyone would believe that the big, bad Surgeon of Death needed someone to hold his hand and scare the nightmares away.”
“I never asked you to hold my hand.”
She giggled before dragging his desk chair over to his bed while he kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers.
“Did you check under the bed for monsters?” he asked dryly, a hint of his sarcastic smirk lifting his lips.
She rolled her eyes. “Please, like there’s anything scarier than you on this ship.”
“Damn straight,” he replied, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. His eyes drooped a bit as his head sank into the pillow. “Know any lullabies?”
“A few. You really want one?”
“Could be nice, especially if it’s the last time I hear your voice should you not manage to keep your mouth shut about this.”
Sniggering, Ikkaku tousled his hair before clearing her throat, softy singing as her captain gradually drifted off.
“Though I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life I love you more.”
END
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crusherthedoctor ¡ 4 years ago
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The Lutrudis Hadeer Characterization Masterpost
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A while back, I made a big post about the thought process that went into the design for Lutrudis, as well as her name, species, and choice of weapons. In the midst of doing a bunch of other stuff (like the Eggman Sweet or Shite review, which is definitely still coming guys I swear, please don't leave me D':), I recently figured I could do the same for the character's... well, character, and provide some further insight into how her personality was shaped together. Cause why not, right?
Obviously, we won't be covering literally every single personality trait that Trudy has, like her hobbies and whatnot. If we went over all of that, we'd be so far into the future that Tumblr's search system might actually start working again. No, we'll just be keeping it to the central ingredients that make up the overall package.
1. A cool head? In my Sonic OC?
The recurring cast in the Sonic universe is filled with fiery, hot-blooded sorts in one way or another. Sonic might as well be the love child of Mentos and Diet Coke with how full of energy he is, Knuckles and Amy are both prone to letting their temper do the talking, Eggman... is Eggman, and the list goes on. And while there are a number of characters who are more low-key or even outright introverted by comparison, they still tend to exhibit a trait or two that makes them more in-line with the rest of the crowd, be it youthful excitement (Tails, Cream), a fiery temper (Blaze), or the odd bit of cockiness (Shadow).
So what better way to help make Trudy stand out... than by not really having anything like that at all? Contrary to most of the hot-blooded cast, it takes a lot to truly enrage her, and even then, you'll be lucky to get anything past tranquil fury. She's not particularly hammy either - flowery with her language at times, certainly, but not hammy - nor is she a cocky type, even against the weakest or most ridiculous of opponents, and although she does grow as a person over the course of the story she's involved in, all of this remains fairly consistent.
That's not to say that Trudy is not a passionate person. Far from it, in fact. She has a lot of passion. She just shows it in a different way than the average Sonic character.
2. Lutrudis? More like Unsureofdis.
Uncertain characters are also somewhat rare in Sonic's recurring cast (at least in the game universe), and just like with the previous point, even when they're there, they'll usually have something to counter it. Blaze may have been a bit insecure before meeting and befriending Sonic and Co, but as mentioned, she’s got a fierce temper, and even when she started off on her own, she felt that only she could take care of the threat of Eggman and Inferior Eggman Nega. Likewise, while Silver may have doubted himself about Leslie the Crack Dealer’s Iblis Trigger ruse cruise, he still got cocky when he had Sonic on the ropes, and he could be quite full of himself in the Rivals duology as well.
The point being, they still tend to show some semblance of the same “yep, I'm the one for the job, no questions asked” confidence and swagger that nearly everyone else has, no matter the flavor. Trudy, suffice to say, does not have this mentality. Trudy accepting Sonic and Co's help in dealing with sinister affairs in Viridonia without any haughty protest on her part isn't just because she knows they can handle it, or because they're Sonic Heroes and they'll show 'em the real superpower of teamwork... it's also because she's genuinely not sure if she would be able to take care of the matter on her own.
When she saved Cream from the wrath of the Wraith for example, she wasn't thinking “This looks like a job for Miss Hadeer!”
She was thinking “This could very well get me killed, but I have to help the poor bunny somehow...”
In other words, Trudy doesn't consider herself to be some sort of destined protector who has to do this herself. She constantly second guesses herself, and frequently believes her friends are more qualified and competent than she is. Her only reason for doing her best and helping out regardless is simply because she wants to.
3. A light at the end of the tunnel.
For the sake of tact, it's not shoved in your face relentlessly, but reading between the lines, it can be easy to get a sense of melancholy from Trudy. Particularly due to past experiences, she does indeed have an element of depression within her, and this can occasionally show in her body language and facial expressions, even if she's currently feeling positive emotions.
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And yet, notice how she continues being a friendly pony. Notice how regardless of her experiences, and her thoughts on said experiences, her actual behaviour is (mostly) free of bitterness or cynicism, and that she doesn't hide the joy that her new friends make her feel. She's not outright ignoring her experiences or pretending they don’t affect her, because they clearly have affected her, and she's never ignored her scars (metaphorically and literally, the latter being a permanent side-effect of her condition), but she knows better than to let it consume her, so she tries her best to look at the bright side of life even during the darkest days.
It's Sonic's opinion that Trudy's inner spirit is a lot stronger than she thinks, with or without his help. Her refusal to give into misery and lash out at the world foreshadows that he's not unjustified in that belief. That, and it ties into the franchise’s usual taste for optimism and idealism against the odds.
4. Hadeer? More like Hadork.
So, everything thus far helps set Trudy up as a mellow, down-to-earth sort of personality. So far, so good. However, it's still the Sonic the Hedgehog universe we're talking about, filled with many colorful characters of all shapes, sizes, and eccentricities. When a franchise has a larger than life cast in a larger than life world, the characters who are meant to be grounded often risk coming off as boring and could end up easily overshadowed, because the creators or writers often neglect to give them any quirks of their own, usually out of fear that it'll disgrace the character's gracefulness. In fact, I personally feel this was a common problem with Sally, in both SatAM and Archie (mostly pre-reboot admittedly).
IMO, these writers are just being plain old silly. Just because a character is quirky doesn't mean they forfeit all their dignity altogether. Like a lot of things in life, you just have to balance it out, and that's what I did (or tried to do...) with the green equine.
So yes, Trudy is elegant, but she's also a really goofy dancer. Yes, she's gentle and motherly, but she also goes back and forth between being a heavy sleeper and being an insomniac. Yes, she serves as a warmhearted auntie figure for Cream (and a big sister figure for Amy), but she also spends a quarter of her time looking like a ninja with the way her bandana covers her face (whether it be due to cold weather, strong scents triggering her sensitive nose, or doing it in the presence of villains as a mildly theatrical way of visually conveying her disdain for them).
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And of course, in the right situation, she can be just as much of a dork as the titular blue hedgehog is.
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Which leads me to my next point...
5. “You might know everything I'm going to do...”
Trudy was created with the intention of having a character who is actually like Sonic himself in a lot of ways, but it's not apparent initially.
This sort of yin-yang contrasting routine has been done before a few times in the series, with Knuckles, Shadow and Blaze being the most obvious examples. But with them, their similarities are easier to spot from a distance. Knuckles is more earth than wind, but you can tell he's as stubborn as Sonic is. Shadow's methods and outlook differ, but you can tell he's still a mirror of Sonic (cause you know, he looks like him). Blaze is more distant, but you can tell how she can easily be just as worked up and angered as Sonic.
With Trudy however, if you take her at face value, you would think she's the exact opposite of Sonic. She's an introvert, he's an extrovert. She's got a calm temperament, he can get impatient even at the best of times. She's quite fancy, he's more rough and tumble. She takes things slowly, he leaps ahead without a care in the world... You would think that, outside of them both fighting for good, they would have nothing in common, and that their dynamic would be more akin to Sonic's relationship with Sally, which although they were friends, their relationship could often be somewhat rocky due to their differences in... basically every area and opinion imaginable.
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But then you get to know Trudy, and the unfolding of the adventure reveals the rest of what she has to offer. The aforementioned soldiering on in spite of any depressed moments is in itself a small hint that Trudy shares Sonic's philosophy of never giving up. She believes that most people are good at their core, and while she won't excuse especially evil people or actions and will punish them appropriately (albeit with regret that it had to come to that), she's willing to give a chance to those who are willing to take it, just like with the Blue Blur. Not only does she NOT find Sonic's jokes and hijinks annoying, she actually has a similar sense of humor herself. And while reasonable people generally tend to loathe injustice and oppression, Trudy shares Sonic's uniquely intense contempt for it, and believes in one's own personal freedom just as much as the hedgehog does, let alone freedom in general.
In short, Trudy is what you get when you take Sonic's deeper qualities and general outlook on life, and apply them to a more introverted and taciturn personality. The exact same beliefs, but from a different perspective, so to speak.
6. A different kind of intelligence.
Tails and Eggman are the resident kings of scientific prowess in Sonic's world, and it goes without saying that I wouldn't want to do them a disservice by having Trudy one-up them in that department. But that doesn't mean your character can’t be talented in other areas, right? Contrary to what all those Mary Sue tests dictate, your character can in fact have a high IQ without intruding on an official character’s territory.
Therefore, Trudy is pretty good at innovation and craftsmanship in her own right, but whereas Tails and Eggman do it through technology, her field of expertise is more to do with arts and crafts, and to a lesser extent geology. For example, both her bow and her whip were crafted by the lady herself, using nothing but her decorative knowledge and flair.
Outside of that, she tends to know a fair bit about a lot of things in the world, largely attributed to her photographic memory, meaning she's bound to have a few answers no matter the subject of discussion. Granted, she's unlikely to be the absolute number one expert on any of those things, but she's at least a useful jack of all trades in that regard.
7. Feeling a little horse.
I very much approve and flat out adore the idea of Sonic characters having characteristics that remind the audience of what species they're supposed to be, so I made sure that Trudy had a wide selection of little mannerisms that would reveal her for the little horsie that she is. These include, but aren't limited to...
- When she’s fascinated or concerned by something, she’ll lean a little forward with her hands close to her chest, which subtly mimics the act of prancing.
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- When she wakes up, she briefly stretches her arms and legs (albeit not too recklessly so as to risk straining her sensitive limbs).
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- Her tail has a number of quirks. If she's happy, it might slowly swish to and fro. If she's REALLY happy, it might flick...
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- And if she doesn't approve of someone or something, it might stiffen and raise a little bit, as if to helpfully inform the bad guys where they can kiss, if ya know what I'm saying.
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- When she's being affectionate with her friends, she might give them the ol' nuzzle.
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- When she's in a playful mood, there might be a little skip in her walk, the anthro equivalent of trotting.
- When she's annoyed, she might humorously let out a snort that sounds identical to a real life horse snort. And while she certainly doesn't neigh in the traditional sense, when she finds something hilarious or Sonic's making her laugh with his antics, her laughter can't help but take on a neigh-like touch to it. (The latter was actually a headcanon suggested by @darklightheart​, and I immediately agreed with it because it's cute and funny in equal measures.)
Naturally, she gets all shy and embarrassed when the neigh-laugh comes out, thinking it sounds silly. At least Sonic finds it endearing.
Note that I'm well aware that some of this differs from how real life horses react to certain things. (Eg: tail swishing tends to happen when a horse is agitated rather than happy.) But I freely admit that it's more for the sake of giving the character that extra bit of soul than it is for utmost accuracy. That's the way it goes with fiction sometimes. :P
Interestingly, Trudy tends to get Sonic indulging in a funny hedgehog characteristic of his own. That being, he might curl into a ball if Trudy's being particularly... ~complimentary~ towards him.
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And there we are! These are the core elements that make up Trudy’s characterization. If you ever wanted a general list of what makes her tick, then hopefully this post will help in scratching that itch. And if it doesn’t, then hopefully it still proves that more thought was put into her than Scourge. :]
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avenger09 ¡ 5 years ago
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The Dragon Prince: Fighting Game Banter
If there was one made in the style of a NeatherRealm game.
Callum: (Drawing a rune in the air) It's the fight of the century!
Ezran: (Riding on a Banther) Brother, vs Brother.  
Callum: Mage vs giant sharp-toothed Banth- Oh-this-was-a-terrible-idea.
Ezran: Callum, and Rayla, sittin' in a tree-
Callum: You've been waiting to use that, haven't you?
Ezran: K-I-S-S-I-N-G. And yes. 
Rayla: How’s our adorable little Prince? 
Ezran: Great. But I’m a king now. 
Rayla: You know I meant Zym, Ez. Good joke though. 
Soren: (Sword over his shoulder)  Rematch Time.
Rayla: (Her blades switching in and out of scythe mode) Really? You want to risk breaking your back again?
Soren: (Combat pose) Hey! That was a Dragon! Not you.
Callum: What did I do?
Rayla: You ate my last moonberry surprise...
Callum: Oh no, she's Hangry again!
Soren: Want to spar today your highness?
Ezran: I would like to, yes.
Soren: As you wish. For the record though, using a Banter is totally cheating.
Soren: Sometimes girls can be so weird.
Callum: My first girlfriend get's superpowers from the moon.
Soren: ...That's neat buddy. 
Rayla: Winner gets to plan our next date.
Callum: Neat. And the loser?
Rayla: (Chuckle) Has to tell your Aunt we're together. 
Callum: (melodramatically) Two lovers divided, forced to fight!
Rayla: (just as melodramatically) Can their love endure this tragic twist of fate?!
Callum: Only thing is for certain... Wing cuddles will ensue.
Callum: Hi there. What"s your name?
Rayla: I'm Rayla, I'm your girlfriend, and we really don't have time to play "Never Met."
Callum: ... Rayla's a pretty name.
Callum: You didn’t need me to dance with you to let me into the Silvergrove did you? 
Rayla: Hmmhmm Nope.
Callum: I’m dating an evil genius. And I’m okay with that. 
 Rayla: You think we should be called, what?
Soren: Eclipse Elves. ‘Cause that’s the only time the moon makes a shadow.
Rayla: That's... surprisingly A good point.
Ezran: What is it Aunt Amaya?
Amaya: (Gren interpreting) [Your mother would be so proud of you.]
Ezran: Thanks... I think she'd be proud of you too. 
Amaya: [What's this I hear about you jumping of a cliff?]
Callum: It was for love!
Amaya: [Good motive, still reckless.]
Soren: Sometimes for lunch, I eat nothing but butter.
Amaya: [You shouldn't do that.]
Soren: Probably. My chest hurts all the time. 
Corvus: (Spinning his sickle chain) We got off to a rocky start.
Rayla: It's okay. We all came together when it mattered. 
Corvus: Still feel like I owe you a free one.  
Amaya: [It's good to have you back.]
Corvus: Funny how we both ended up captured, General. 
Amaya: (Grinning) [Captured? I was just taking a sunny holiday.] 
Corvus: You really set an impossible goal post, your Highness. 
Callum: How?
Corvus: How can any other couple top; Confessed our love mid-flight?
Rayla: So... Got any hobbies?
Amaya: [I know your dating my nephew.]
Rayla: Wha... I don't, I wasn't. Okay, I was just building up to that. 
Rayla: Are you the reason we’re sometimes fighting copies of ourselves?  Lujanne: (Dissipating her Human form) Maybe I am, or maybe the veil of reality has been opened wide for your others selves to come through. Rayla: So it’s definitely you, then,
Soren: Waaait... Are you and Callum together?
Rayla: Uck, no Soren. (mock cheery tone) We just like to kiss, hold hands, and be around each other all the time.
Soren: Hey, some people do, do, that. I'm not judging.
Soren: This is freaky.
Soren: Are we in some kind of weird, reflection, world?
Soren: If it is, you'd think it'd be a lot shinier, other me.
Ellis: (Ava poised dramatically) Hey Banterboy.
Ezran: Hey Wolfgirl. 
Ellis: (Ava ready to lunge) Now, we fight crime.
Ellis: Yes! I knew you two would get together!
Rayla: Well we didn’t.
Ellis: Of course you two wouldn’t, dummy. 
Ellis: You can grow wings now?! Callum: Just call me, “Souring Callum.”
Ellis: Hehaha! Sorry I thought you said: “Snoring Callum.”
Viren: This is a test Claudia.
Claudia: (Eyes turning black her snake wrist chain moving) To prove what?
Viren: (Staff extending)  To prove If your strong enough to fight even your flash and blood.   
Claudia: Hey man-bun!
Corvus: I have a name.
Claudia: Well, I've forgotten it. So...  
Soren: Shouldn't have sent a Guard to do an Assassins job.
Viren: I sent you to save Katolis from a weak ruler. And to earn my pride.
Soren: I've got plenty of Pride. Big shock, none of it came from you!
Viren: Come to kill me for real, son? 
Soren: I should have left you when Mom did!
Viren: Yes. You should have. 
Viren: Impossible. How did you learn Primal Magic?
Callum: I did this thing called; Actually trying!
Viren: Dark Magic, Is not, A shortcut!
Claudia: Don't make me fight you Sorebear.
Soren: Claud's... Dad is evil.
Claudia: I can't choose again!
Callum: The way you use magic is wrong.
Viren: Oh? And how should I use it, oh wise, mongrel, Prince?  
Callum: To help people, not use them! You selfish idiot!
Callum: You say you cared about my Dad.
Viren: Like a brother.
Callum: Then why didn't you ever just consider trading back the egg?
Rayla: Shouldn’t you be a puddle right now?
Viren: Despite your best efforts I live.
Rayla: Your remind me of a bad itch that just won’t go away. 
Rayla: Do you even know my name? Or the names of those you’ve captured? 
Viren: Should I, Elf.
Rayla: You will. 
Ezran: I know about the Soulfrang, Viren.
Viren: How?
Ezran: Let's say, a little birdy told me.
Jenai: (drawing her Sunforge sword) Lux Aurea will be avenged.
Viren: I don’t even know who you are. 
Jenai: You will...
Callum: So. You and my aunt huh?
Jenai: (Genuinely confused) What about me and your aunt? 
Callum: Oh you’ll find out. 
Janai: You don't have to stand so close to me.
Amaya: (teasing) [But your so warm and cozy.]
Janai: *sigh* *You where much more intimidating before we started talking.
Soren: If it isn't the Hot Elf.
Janai: Excuse me?!
Soren: Huh? No, Wait! I meant like.. Your made of fire sometimes!
Claudia: I bet Callum hates me right now. 
Rayla: He doesn't hate you. He misses you. 
Claudia: Why? He has you now.
Claudia: (sadly) Just an 'Assassin Friend' huh?
Callum: I'm sorry. Me and Rayla... It was completely unexpected.
Claudia: ‘Unexpected’ is just another kind of expected.
Ezran: I'm not angry Claudia.
Claudia: How can you say that, after I let you down.
Ezran: Your not your father. You can still be helped. 
Soren: Your hair, what did you do?
Claudia: I made Dad better. Like for you.
Soren: Better, but he..? Claudia, no...
Amaya: (stern) [Your father is a liar, a thief, and a traitor. For your sake give him up.]
Claudia: It's not that simple!
Amaya: (sympathetic) It never is with family.
Aaravos: (After his familiar has possessed a host) I've looked forward to this meeting.
Callum: Do I know you?
Aaravos: No. But you possess something that can help me. A certain... cube.
Lujanne: They say “Time fades even Legends”
Arravos: Who does?
Lujanne: No clue? Read it in a book about vampires once, and thought you might know?
Callum: Why should I trust you?
Aaravos: I can help you achieve your full potential.
Callum: That just helps me, what about my friends? 
Aaravos: Why settle for being a mere High Mage? 
Callum: What else is there? 
Aaravos: Becoming the heir to my power. The new Archmage of Xadia.
Aaravos: We have both broken past the limits others set upon us.
Callum: That doesn't make us friends.
Aaravos: But it does make us equals.
Aaravos: I had such hopes for you.
Viren: Please, I still need your power. Anything you ask I’ll grant! Aaravos: Oh, have some dignity!
Amaya: [Stay away from my family!]
Aaravos: Afraid you’ll fail at protecting another of them, are you?
Amaya: [I’m only afraid I’ll enjoy this.]
Jenai: Any last words?
Aaravos: How’s your sister..? 
Jenai: (Heat mode) Arrrrgh!
Aaravos: You shall be quite useful. 
Rayla: Not happening. 
Aaravos: Your compliance is not required. You will lure my new disciple to me. 
Harrow: (Standing up from his throne as a set of disembodied armor) So... Tell me about this girl your seeing.
Callum: You do know she was one of the Assassins sent to kill you, right?
Harrow: Well, nobody’s perfect.
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nightmaresindreamland ¡ 4 years ago
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HC: Fear
The past three years has not been kind to our favorite wizard. Things have gotten more scary, some things have stayed the same, but overall, his ability to react to things he finds intimidating has stayed the same.
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Nightmare’s never really been a timid or fearful person, at least, that’s how it would appear. His fear conjures itself in ways that are non-typical, and ways that have baked themselves into his very personality.
Fear of isolation
Fear of betrayal
Fear of abuse
Fear of abandonment
Nightmare’s fear of isolation is perhaps his strongest one, which most of his outlook on life is rooted in. He always feels as though that the people around him will leave him, not through death, but justifiable reasons. He is an evil warlord, after all, it’s only natural they won’t want to stay. 
Most people aren’t evil, so Nightmare has to lower himself and let them command him (see; Jae, CS, Olimar) to avoid them leaving him or becoming dissatisfied with him. He knows people can’t genuinely like him, that’s impossible, so purchasing ‘allies’ through normal evil means (i.e money, power, goods) is the only way he feels he may have company. That or if he’s forced to through contract (see; Nana).
Something good happening to him is never not backed with something horrible happening next. He constantly sees that with the people he’s in relationships with. Having ‘allies’ is a special form of mental torment, because he feels obligated to wait on them to stave off pain they’ll inevitably inflict on him. There is no saftey, still, in his allies, but at least it’s better than having friends.
Friends are just blatant lies. They’re people out to exploit, deceive, and destroy.
Paranoia
Persecution complex
It’s only reasonable that everyone is out to get him. You’d have to be insane not to be against him. He is the self proclaimed emperor of evil, and he’s done nothing but slaughter and hurt people for as long as he can remember. It’s only natural for him to think that anyone and everyone hates him. He revels in the hatred and the fear, of course, being a demon of the latter. But at times, a switch flips in his brain and he’ll get angry about it instead.
He feels no matter what he does, no matter what body he is in, no matter how he acts, he’s predestined to be hurt. That the universe itself has it out for him, and will always hurt him regardless of how he acts. He knows it’s cosmic karma for the war, and that he deserves it, but he still doesn’t want it. 
His paranoia is only ever confirmed true both through rps with characters that seemingly know he’s evil on first glance despite not knowing who he is, as well as the canonical existence of Star Warriors; an entire race of people who exist to wipe his face into the mud. He always feels hunted, which makes him constantly lash out against people, even the people he trusts.
I mean, how can he really trust anyone if he always suspects everyone wants to hurt him? No matter how much someone is tested, no matter how much he intimidates or submits, that person’s going to hurt him. It doesn’t matter if it’s not in their best interest, it doesn’t matter if they seemingly have no motive, they will. It’s going to happen. It can’t not happen.
Fear of being wrong
Inability to trust own judgement
Dependency
This fear is one that only produced itself post-war, when Nightmare became acutely aware that the opinions of mortals mattered towards his well-being. Economic anxiety was frequent among the employees he’d spoken to, and he’d frequently would be told about how his actions affected the wellbeing of his company; his pride, joy, and singular place of safety he’d ever been granted.
Nightmare slunk down into the pits of ‘inoffensiveness’ as the years waned on, killing less, lazing more, and keeping to himself in order to ensure his company could run. He wanted to murder, he wanted to kill, but he trusted the judgement of his mortal employees (see; CS) more than he trusted his own. This trickled into an extreme degree as of late, as Nightmare developed paranoia in rp. He cannot trust his own actions or thoughts, lest he lose someone to them, be left alone, or killed.
Nightmare is dependent on the people he forms relationships to do things he feels he’s incapable of doing, leading to them usually running his life for him (again, see; CS). He knows mortals run the universe, he’s a singular demon amongst a crowd of people. It’s better they have control over him than he have control over himself, lest he lose everything he built on their corpses and backs.
It’s why some can glare at him and tell him what to do without any consequence. They know better than he does, and at the very least he’s aware of that.
Fear of inadequacy
Nightmare believes that his existence is evil from the get-go. Even if he didn’t have a war, he would be evil and worth scorning regardless. He is conceptually evil, which, if you don’t know, is kind of a bad thing to be. He feels he has to convince people to tolerate him because of this, because he is a defective creature rather than a person.
Due to this, Nightmare lashes out at feelings of inferiority against nearly next to everyone who fits some level of a ‘normal’ person (see; Kirby) with extreme prejudice. He hates feeling ashamed of himself, so he doesn’t. Instead, he just becomes incredibly hateful towards people who ‘have an easy life’ just by being born into the right body. Then again, maybe even if he were born different, he would still be beaten to death regardless.
Nightmare feels the need to constantly prove himself to be worthwhile to people, that he has a use, that he shouldn’t be killed or tortured because x, y, z, even when no threat is present. He feels like he must prove himself, even to people he doesn’t know. 
Nightmare feels an intense need to please other people, and actively will not do things he wants to do if he feels it will hurt someone he arbitrarily finds to be important. Other people are in charge of Nightmare’s dignity, and he can’t afford to hurt it.
Nightmare knows that if he can’t be liked, genuinely, the very least he can do is be useful. Maybe then people won’t betray him, kill him, and destroy all of his stuff. But that’s a hard maybe. Nothing can change his fate, he feels, but he’s still trying to anyways. Maybe next time, paying someone and being submissive to their whims finally will be enough. But it probably won’t be. It never is.
Nothing he ever does is ever enough to keep him from pain. That’s just the problem with being born wrong.
Fear of intimacy 
Fear of affection
This was connected to the fear of abandonment, but I had a lot to say about it so it gets its own part here.
Nightmare needs the ability to talk to people and be intimate with them in order for his brain to not collapse in on itself. However, most things that people do together are off limits.
He feels no one can satisfy his needs in any of his relationship without them hurting him in some capacity, so he settles for being deprived instead. It’s better than to ask, better than to risk his pride, or worse, his life. He believes he has no intimate needs at all, and has forgone them entirely for the sake of being safe. 
Nightmare doesn’t want the faux comfort of physical affection. It makes him revolted when he receives it, because he knows it’s fake, only meant to have him drop his guard. It’s better to reject all of it than to accept it and be even more hurt when a betrayal inevitably happens.
Not like he needs it, anyways. He can live without it, can’t he? That’s normal. Besides, it’s not exactly villainous to be getting hugs.
Fear of imprisonment
Fear of powerlessness
Fear of Eggman
Fear of electricity
Fear of rain
Fear of Christmas
Nightmare’s fear of imprisonment and entrapment has been around generally his entire life. The idea of being helpless to someone doing things to him is awful, and being unable to escape is equally unnerving. 
If he had the ability to have dreams, most of his bad ones would be about being contained somewhere he couldn’t leave, and being unable to defend himself from someone inparticular. Someone he doesn’t see, or can’t remember the face of when he wakes up.
Good thing he can’t dream. Good thing he’s never been captured.
Not in recent memory, anyways.
Conclusion
Nightmare’s fear manifests itself, mostly, as anger. The most amount of fear he’s shown in recent years has been in roleplays with Jae and her telling him to not do x, y, z. 
His fear has cooked itself so much into his personality that he believes there is no other way for him to live other than this. He’s accepted them so much that he viciously has to defend himself whenever questioned on why he acts the way he does.
He justifies his fears under the umbrella of ‘well, I’m evil, and thats how being evil works’ in order to not reflect on his own shortcomings. Or, ‘well, the world is made by mortals so naturally I need to listen to them’ as a courtesy. 
Being without things that he fears makes him more scared. Because anything that’s a deviation from the norm is the universe reeling up a hard swing to crush his entire face in.
But still, Nightmare is far from timid. He’s very evil. 
There’s no other way for him to live and be happy with his existence, in his opinion.
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evakuality ¡ 7 years ago
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It’s Even’s turn!
So, after promising myself I would for the longest time, here I am finally with a meta all about Even.  I had a lot of down time recently to (hand!) write about a lot of stuff, and obviously Even was one character I feel a need to talk about.  He’s one of the two characters I feel most connected to on this show and it’s criminal that I haven’t really talked about him much yet.  Let’s take a look at Even, shall we?  Let me tell you, this is one of the kindest, most gentle characters you’ll ever meet on TV.  So let’s start there.
Even is a character who could have become brittle and hardened.  The experiences of his life are the sort that could have made him bitter.  Let’s recap: he has an incurable mental illness that he can’t control and which inevitably recurs, causing him a lot of distress after it’s taken its toll because he believes he’ll hurt people because of it.  He fears losing control, which is why he resents it when people try to control him and why he loves the idea of being a director and able to be in control, complete control, of something.  He has also been in a relationship for a long time.  That’s not generally considered to be a bad thing, of course, but in this instance it’s become cloying, something that keeps him in a place he finds restless and closed in.  That it also makes him feel protected in some ways, safe and secure, is irrelevant because even that supposed positive is so restrictive to him that he chafes against it.  And then of course, we have all the stuff at Bakka.  We can’t know for sure if that was his first episode, the one that led to his diagnosis, or if there had been some before.  Regardless, it was catastrophic for him: it was big, it was public, it cost him his friends and his dignity and it almost cost him his life.  He was either so ashamed of what he’d done that he didn’t want to go back to the same school, or he was not able to go back for some reason.  So this all meant that he had to piece himself back together and then repeat his last year of school in a new place among new people.
For someone like Even, someone who likes being in control, so much of this stuff would be horrifying.  It could easily have created a resentful, closed off, angry person but it didn’t.  It created a loving, kind, generous person who tries to make everyone around him feel better.  We see something of how Even could have ended up at the Halloween pre-game where Sonja gets at him about his drinking and he snaps at her.  That’s the resentful, angry person he could have been all the time.  So it’s not like he doesn’t have the capacity for that anger and resentment.  That means he’s choosing not to be that way.  (Incidentally, Sonja’s reaction to his aggression there is a little weird to me; why does she get so upset?  Is it because this is such an ongoing thing?  I know she thinks she’s doing the right thing, but she’s got to understand how that would feel to him, surely?  Any insights from others would be most appreciated).  We also see how little Even values himself.  He doesn’t understand why Isak would be with him.  During a good phase of his life, in s4 when he’s graduated, he’s living with Isak and he seems happy and stable, Even believes he’s a burden.  It’s hard to know exactly where he gets this idea as we have no clue about his past really.  Plausibly, it could be because people have either said or implied that he was a burden and/or the cause of their pain (throw away comments and well-meaning conversations can have a devastating effect, after all, even if no-one deliberately tried to make him feel bad).  Or, the other possibility is that Even is sensitive enough to other people that he noticed the effect his episode had on them (notably Sonja and the balloon boys, particularly Yousef but also probably his parents), and now lives in fear that he is, or will be, just as bad for Isak.  We certainly see how quickly Even can read a situation and respond to it when he returns the hat Isak left at his house, so the idea that Even can read the people around him and accurately see that his episode has had a negative effect on them isn’t unlikely.  It’s actually heartbreaking that a character who is loving and giving thinks this way about himself, however.  It tells us a lot about how all those things in his life affected him, and it’s incredibly sad just how deeply they have cut into his own self-perception.  
There are other facets to Even too, of course.  He’s unashamed of a lot of things about who he is, which is interesting considering how much else he is ashamed of.  He likes cheesy pop music and isn’t scared to show it (Gabrielle and dancing in the kitchen, for example), he’s impulsive and energetic (Taking all the paper towels just to get Isak to react, breaking into the house with the pool to recreate one of his, presumably, favorite movie moments), he’s willing to make a fool of himself (dressing as God in a way that’s not particularly flattering), he’ll talk dicks etc with people he’s just met (with Isak at kosegruppa and after the neon party pregame), he’ll make up stupid stories just to entertain people and/or get a reaction (that first dick story and the aluminium leg after the neon party).  It’s hard to know how much of this is Even being Even and how much is awkward flirting because we see all of this through Isak’s eyes and Even has an interest there from the start, but either way this tells us a lot about him.  There are a lot of parts of Even that a more self-conscious person wouldn’t be so comfortable showing.  In short, he’s a giant dork who will ignore his own fears and insecurities to make other people happy.  It’s actually testament to how much Even liked Isak from the start that he tried to hide a lot of this side of him behind a cool, mysterious facade.  Some of that would have just been Isak’s point of view, of course, because Isak definitely sees Even as the cool, sexy outsider at the start, but there’s no way Even was so ‘casually’ cool in Isak’s presence so many times without there being some effort behind it.  The moment in the school yard is, as pointed out by many gifsets, the epitome of ‘do you know how hard I worked to make accidental eye contact?’
One thing that’s often glossed over in fanfiction (and I’m certainly guilty of this myself) is that Even is a teller of tall tales.  The two most obvious examples are the ‘if you touched a dick you had to suck it’ and ‘Sonja has a fake leg’ stories.  Now, we have no way of knowing whether this is just part of ‘take desperate to a new level’ in trying to win Isak over, or whether Even’s always like this.  But either way, it again tells us a lot about him.  He’s playful, he likes to make people laugh (or Isak anyway), and he’s willing to push it to the limit and not give up until the other person gets that he’s joking.  When you think about it, this is a lovely trait.  Often people will give in, relent and tell the person they’re joking with that they’re joking before it dawns on them.  They make it easy for the other person which can sometimes make them feel condescended to.  Whereas when Even allows the person to figure it out themselves he has such a joyous response to it, he’s so happy to be found out, that they (or Isak anyway) can feel happy too.  There’s a sense of ‘you’re an asshole’ in Isak’s responses, but also of ‘but I found you out’ and so he feels successful.  The infectious joy Even has as part of this is important because it shows he’s not doing this to be malicious.  He’s genuinely just wanting to have a laugh, and there’s no intention to laugh at someone (or, well … at Isak because he’s really the only one we see Even do this with).  
This expands out to other things as well.  Think about that moment during their first real conversation, on the windowsill when Even’s amused at Isak pretending to know who Nas is.  He could have made Isak feel really badly in that moment, but he doesn’t.  He laughs, yes, but it’s more with Isak than at him and he lightens it by saying they’ll listen later.  This is a person who likes to tease and laugh but will do it in a way which draws people (or … well, Isak anyway) closer rather than distancing them.  This is all in keeping with Even being a gentle, kind soul who likes people being in control of their own lives.  Just as he isn’t into being controlled himself, he also doesn’t want to control others as we see with his storytelling thing.
The other thing to remember is that Even is a very brave character.  That may seem to be a bit contradictory when we remember that he’s also super avoidant, but hear me out.  We see him running from things that upset or worry him over and over again.  He ignores Sonja’s calls and texts when he’s with Isak after their first kiss, he avoids Isak after the ‘mentally ill people’ line rather than telling him, he drops his Bakka friends and tries to avoid talking to them right up til s4 in the karaoke bar, he doesn’t want to engage with Isak around knowing Sana and his relationship with Mikael, and we don’t know if he left Bakka to avoid seeing those people again but it’s plausible considering how many other things he avoids.  This all suggests someone who’s a bit cowardly, who doesn’t want to face up to the issues in his life.  Now, apart from the Sonja one, those all revolve around not wanting to face his past because it scares him and he’s so worried it will cost him his future.  But this is where the bravery comes in.  He’s had bad experiences around his sexuality in the past; his friends reacted strongly to his attempt to kiss Mikael and his episode either happened concurrent to that or immediately afterwards.  And yet, Even still approaches Isak and sees if they can work together as a couple.  Even knows Isak has issues with mentally ill people, he knows he could be devastatingly hurt if Isak finds out he’s bipolar, and yet he still comes back that night when isak texts him.  He puts himself out there, willing to risk his own happiness, dignity and heart for the possibility that isak might feel the same way about him.  He failed out of Bakka in his third year, probably from missing too much school, and yet he’s brave enough to pick himself up and start over at a new school.  That’s not easy; neither thing is.  To repeat a year after feeling like a failure on top of everything else he’s dealt with, and to do it in a new place with new people. It’s a testament to how strong he really is.
Even has a sad backstory; he feels very much like he’s not worth people bothering with him, and yet all his actions and his personality (his exuberance, his gentleness, his kindness, his bravery etc) all make him a person who the whole group respects.  We know this from his clip, and from the Nipple Twist video, where they all support him and tell him how great he is.  Which, honestly, is something Even should always hear, because he deserves it.  He deserves to be happy, he deserves to have someone love him unconditionally and he deserves to be seen as useful and needed by his partner and by his friends.  He gets all those things by the end of the show and that’s a lovely thing for a character who gives so much to others but can’t see it.
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huvall ¡ 7 years ago
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no redemption.
a chat in which hugo is meant to fling athena into the ocean and... well... doesn’t. 
INCLUDED: hugo & athena. #NSFW, tw hugos abs probably @athenaofthesea
HUGO:
He hadn't had a whole lot of time to think when the Moorish's walked out of Catherine's office and she commanded him to throw Athena into the ocean like she were some rejected fish. As he looked down at the woman on the floor, Hugo felt a part of himself feel sorry for her. The same part that felt sorry for Josie whenever Catherine tortured her, the only part of him that could ever be deemed something even remotely similar to being human. Reaching down to grab Athena's upper arms again, he dragged her up to her feet and shared one single look with Catherine to assure her the job would get done. However, such as demons did, he lied.
Appearing in a deserted part of the forest where greenery met the beach, it was a stark throw-back to the area in which he'd first found Athena, the very first time they'd met. It was empty out here, nobody around for miles. It was the perfect place for him to begin the moment that he expected to be the last time Athena ever trusted him.
"Athena..." He began.
ATHENA:
The pain of the potion that had seeped into the mermaid’s blood stream from the wounds on her face and the pounding of her head from its impact on the floor had her dizzy, weak and disoriented. Now that she didn’t have to focus on Catherine, she felt her mind and body relenting.
Eyelids heavy, Athena didn’t move as Hugo lifted her or as she felt the familiar tug of teleportation. She immediately expected to feel herself fall abruptly into the cold Pacific waters, but it didn’t come. She twitched from the pain still in the process of subsiding and opened her eyes a bit more to see clearly what had happened.
Coming quickly to her senses, she realized Hugo was still holding onto her and as much as she wanted to just stay there and fall comfortably against someone, she had dignity to hold on to. Athena lurched and pushed roughly at his chest. “Don’t-,” she said, voice tight with anger and pain. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” If he let her struggling form go, she’d stumble a couple steps away before stopping so she didn’t fall. Her legs felt like lead so she leaned against the nearest thing she could find - a tree.
HUGO:
The reaction was to be expected, and Hugo simply pursed his lips together to stop himself from shouting back at her, eyes going way above her head to simply... realign himself mentally. He wasn't here to yell at her, though he sure felt like it because both of them had been pressed tonight. Both of them had certain acts to follow. Both of them were risking there lives right now.
By instinct, his fingers tightened on her arms as she thrashed but then after a moment, he let her go, watching her stumble backward and catch herself against the bark. "Fine," He showed his hands, empty now. "Happy?"
ATHENA:
Athena straightened herself up, getting better at ignoring the burning throb in her veins as she glared at Hugo. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say - and what was rare from her. Yell at him? Tell him she felt more disappointed and betrayed than angry, even though she knew it was bound to happen. Athena hated the part of her that persisted to hope. She just eyed Hugo warily with a weak glare and tried not to wince every time the pain reached a different area of her body. It was spreading, but the effect was also dulling at the same time. She ignored it and waited for some sort of explanation. She knew why’d he’d taken her but not why she wasn’t curling up at the bottom of the ocean right now. 
HUGO:
The more she looked at him like she wanted to punch him in the jaw, the more Hugo just found that he wished she'd get it over with. Watching her nails bite the tree trunk and her brows angle themselves to full capacity scowl, Hugo wondered if dumping her in the ocean would have been the better option here. If she hated him, he could wear that. But if it was for the wrong reasons, boy, Hugo would live to correct her.
"Alright," He threw his hands up in angry defeat. "So I was an asshole back there! Welcome to a day in the life of working for Catherine, here's your handbook, here's you're free will flying out the fucking window — have a nice time!" He barked at her, turning away then and running a hand through his hair, tugging at its roots. "You knew, this was coming. You knew I'd have no choice and if you'd opened your mouth any more back there, you wouldn't even be here having this conversation." He spun back to her, angrily pointing at the ground between them.
ATHENA:
Athena watched Hugo, wondering how he could stand there and not show even the tiniest bit of remorse. Though maybe he was, in his own twisted way, by claiming he had no free will. Being someone who was trapped in the power of someone else for so long and having had no chance to leave, she almost pitied him. Almost. In her eyes, Hugo was far more powerful than a vampire and if he could rid himself of a job he didn’t want then he should have done it. But he didn’t - he wanted to work for her and be a vampire woman’s pet. “I’m surprised you’re not disappointed,” she said calmly but coldly after a pause.
HUGO:
"Disapp—" He went to repeat incredulously but was so thrown off by the response that he scoffed, squinted and then proceeded to roll his eyes at her. "Get your head out of your ass, Athena, I didn't want what happened back there. I didn't want to have to beat you into submission just because my payroll tells me to, I didn't want you to be some victim of Catherine's. Sure, demon's are inherently evil, we get a kick out of ruining people's lives..." He waved a hand in dismissal and closed some of the distance between them, eyes honing in on her seriously. "But that doesn't mean I don't care about things."
ATHENA:
Athena followed him with her eyes as he came closer but she didn’t otherwise move. “I’m trying to understand,” she said, angry but also with a hint of desperation. “I don’t know what to think anymore when one day you’re teleporting me off to Paris and the next you’re my assigned executioner!” Her tone and expression hardened. “What am I suppose to be to you? Just a toy to play with until your boss tells you to kill me? I don’t want that! And if you didn’t want it either, you had the power and the capability to make that decision for yourself - fuck whatever Catherine says. All of this,” She gestures around them vaguely. “Being her pet demon? That’s your independent and free choice.” She said, steely gaze on him but pushing at his chest with her index finger to make the point.
HUGO:
"And what do you expect I do, hmm?!" He rose his voice to match hers, vein in his neck straining as he threw a hand out to nothing but forest beside them. "Quit? Move somewhere sunny? Live out the rest of my existence making good choices and stopping to smell the roses? I'm not programmed the way you are, Athena, I'm not human! None of me is, not one single part! I don't feel things the way you do, I don't remember the last time I felt anything!" He put his fingers to his chest, gesturing at himself, even though he was wading into deceitful waters now. "I travel? I feel nothing. I succeed at something?  I feel nothing. I kill, I feel nothing! I feel nothing, okay? I feel — nothing!" He yelled at her as if trying to convince Athena and the rest of the world all at once, eyes failing him despite the hostile expression on his face. A beat of silence passed between them where he had to catch his breath, falling back half a step and looking her over, no longer angry just... distressed. "And then I meet someone like you." He settled, throwing a hand at her now. As if she was just a bystander to the entire argument.
ATHENA:
She listened patiently as if her heart wasn’t trying to escape her rib cage, as if the yelling wasn’t scaring her, as if she didn’t want to shout herself hoarse as well. His words stung like needles because she knew they couldn’t be true. They couldn’t because she’d seen his eyes when something excited him or fascinated him and even when something genuinely angered him. She saw the look on his face now and she knew he felt pain even more than she because he tried to bury it even deeper than her. The effort of over centuries of life had taken its toll many times over. “I know you’re a demon,” she said seriously, taking a step forward. “I know you thrive on chaos and you deal pain and death to people who do and don’t deserve it. I know.” She put her hands up a bit to her sides, almost like a shrug without her shoulders. “I don’t care. The reason I can stand to be this close to you and even care as much as I do about you is because you’re also a lot fucking more than that. I don’t mind you’re not the least bit human or that you’ve done things in your past and present that would definitely disgust me. I’m not human either so. And no, I’m not a demon but don’t you dare tell me only humans know how to feel genuine empathy and self less compassion. I’ve seen and I’ve heard things from both you and others.” She didn’t sound angry anymore at all.  “I may never live long enough to see you embrace that side of you and at this point it’s okay with me. The only thing that matters is you stop pretending youre okay being just heartless.”
To make her point, Athena tried to ignore what he’d said about her and how she may or may not feel about it. Unfortunately, it was getting hard now that she was done talking and just looking up at him. She thought she’d been confused before, but now she was absolutely reeling.
HUGO:
For possibly the first time ever as Athena came closer, Hugo felt the need to step back. The same way he felt the need to never call her by her name unless the moment was serious, or the way he forced himself to behave and not pull tricks on her like he often did with other women. It was because he was afraid. Afraid of what kind of meaning it would give whatever they had going on, and afraid that he'd become attached to it the same way he'd grown attached to Josie over the years, never seeming to be able to remove her completely, no matter what she did. He had an addictive personality, he knew that.  His sense of will was weak and not just to Catherine, but to others like Athena as well. If she asked him to go, he would. If she asked him to repeat their goodbye at his front door, he wouldn't even hesitate. Staring at her and watching her as she stared back, he felt that memory resurface at full speed, forcing him to want things from her he otherwise played pretend that he didn't. Looking away from her and into the trees to mull over everything she'd said, his jaw slackened and his teeth could be seen grinding almost thoughtfully.
"It's not going to work." He decided finally, placing hands on his hips and pushing back the lower flaps of his jacket. Shaking his head a little in afterthought, he finally made himself look back at Athena and gesture between them. "This, whatever we're doing. It won't work." Although the words were cutting, they didn't have a weight behind them that showed either of them in that moment that he thought this was the right thing to say. It was his last form of defense, it was all he could do to try and get her to stop believing that he wasn't the villain here. "My job is to do what Catherine tells me. My job before that? Was to do what a guy named Logan told me. Before him was Leroy, before that was Elizabeth, so do you get it, now? This is my life, this is what I do. I don't know how to do anything else." He explained, eyes catching her lips regardless of the argument. He blinked and rose his gaze quickly. Pausing, he took a half step closer, lowering his voice. "If Catherine finds out I haven't dropped you somewhere off the coast of Australia by now... it's over." He assured her, eyes drifting down her expression with a sense of urgency and desperation behind his words. As if this was it, this was the moment they had to decide their fate as something vague and ambiguous, though very clearly hesitating. "For both of us."
ATHENA:
She waited till Hugo finished talking, realizing the way her heart was in agony this whole time had less to do with betrayal and she just didn’t want to admit it to herself. “You’re right,” Athena said, shaking her head a little but eyes not leaving his face. They drifted down a little, looking over the features of it because for a second she couldn’t meet his gaze and those blue eyes. “I don’t think it would work. There’s nothing about this that makes sense.” Bullshit, Athena, when did your emotions ever make sense. “I don’t even know what this is with you, but I almost died and right now... I just really don’t care.” She made the excuse in her head that this was a gesture of gratitude and the closeness and emotion of the moment. A weak excuse to let her give into the sudden impulse to close the space between them, taking Hugo shirt and pulling him into a kiss. It was almost like finding water in the desert at first, but she relaxed.
HUGO:
He’d be a liar if he claimed he hadn't felt it, that invisible tug felt between two people when the moment was put under stress and hormones were flooding one's system. He was ready for her to turn the moment on it's head, to say something surprising like she always did or react in a way he couldn't have countered smoothly. It was always like that with Athena, he'd always had to be resilient with her.
But the second her hand came forward, Hugo was ready. In fact, he'd been ready the second he'd teleported her into the woods, Hell, maybe even before that. As she yanked him close, his lowered his head in perfect timing to catch her lips with his, a hand flying up to the side of her face to hold her cheek and then tangle further in her hair. He leaned into her mercilessly, so much so that he felt the sudden impact of her back hitting the tree she'd been leaning against just minutes ago and him slamming into her too. She felt warm and full of excitement, the kind that was often felt after a giant argument that put two people in this kind of position. He came back for air sharply but it didn't stop Hugo from going back for more, eyes shutting tightly to block out everything that wasn't the smell of the ocean and the feel of her slender figure against him. One hand dropped to her hips, finding the hem of her sweater. In the back of his mind he knew he should have asked permission, but he didn't. His fingers snaked under the material and against her lower back, right where he'd pressed the knife earlier only this time, applying the pressure of his fingertips instead.
ATHENA:
What lingering pain? What scratches on her face she hadn’t yet gotten to heal or the pounding in her head from what could have been concussive vampire force? She forgot. The hard impact of her back against the tree was the only thing akin to discomfort Athena could have felt for less than a second. She was completely lost in the longing and desperation of that kiss and every feeling that came with it . Her senses were overpowered by Hugo - smell, touch, sound, taste. Nothing and no one else existed for a moment until her throat started aching for air. He pulled away enough to give her the opportunity to remedy that but it made nothing about her happy except her lungs. When Hugo collided against her again, she didn’t question the urgency or the feeling of his hand suddenly against her skin. Shivers ran up her back but she felt no desire to stop it. In fact, Athena was pretty sure the forest could have started burning down or Catherine could have appeared from behind a tree and she’d still feel almost no desire to stop it.
HUGO:
He felt her spine concave with his tug, her hips drawing nearer as her shoulders seemed planted against the tree behind her. Hugo read this as a good sign, particularly with the way her lips hungrily welcomed him back. As his hand smoothed further up her back and the other braced a thumb against the cutting edge of her jaw, Hugo felt the wind pick up a little around them. As exciting as wolves probably found it to roll around with each other in the dirt, Hugo couldn't relate. So as he locked her in his grip, he pulled back only for a mere millisecond to look at her before black smoke swirled around them and diminished them into thin air.
Reappearing in his house, specifically the same bedroom he'd had her in once before, Hugo leaned into her again to take brief ownership of her mouth. This moment felt nothing like that last time though, he thought as he let go of her only to grab at the opening of his leather jacket and pull it off of him and throw it aside. Hands coming back to her thin frame, he took her waist, finding that if he thought he'd wanted her before — it was nothing compared to how he wanted her now.
ATHENA:
When they teleported to his room, Athena knew there would be no coming back from this smoothly. It was different when she planned it with someone and prepared herself to be closed off. But she was so filled with emotion, it was impossible to shut the gates now but just as impossible to bring herself to stop. She ached with longing at this point - overcome with the desire to let it happen and deal with the consequences later. Every moment Hugo didn’t have since hands on her seemed like a waste, but she dealt with it by making it easier for the next one. Athena rushed to slip off her shirt and toss it to the side before helping him do the same with his own, just desperate to speed up the process. She didn’t know if it was just all that happened that day and the emotions, but it’d been so long since she felt a feeling of urgency and longing with this much strength. God help her.
HUGO:
Sometimes, rushing was just _fun._ Other times... it was a necessity. Whether it be due to time restraints, awkward emotional avoidance or the fact your boss might just kick down your door any minute and demand you slaughter the girl you were undressing — Hugo kept up with the pace that Athena was setting by tearing off her own top and beating him to it. Grabbing at the neck of his own, he gave a devilish grin when he felt the material rise up with too much ease, realizing as it was pulled away from him by someone else's hand that he was being helped a great deal. Knowing that she wanted this in the moment as much as he did made his stomach churn in excitement and blood rush through his body at a high. And he wasn't prepared to ruin it by slowing down any.
Reaching out to her, he curled a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him again. Lips finding each other once more, he marveled at the way the skin of her stomach felt brushing against his. This time, it was just the two of them. This time, he could have her all to himself. Lowering his hands then to start on the button of her jeans, he spoke for the first time since their argument. "Just for the private record — I'm glad you didn't get yourself killed today." The words were mumbled against her lips, air rushing in and out of his mouth as he attempted to kiss, speak and breathe all at the same time. Pulling open the fly of her jeans then, he made a point to pull them down a little before letting her deal with the rest and manifestly going back to kissing her fully.
ATHENA:
A hand cupped his jawline, the other tangling fingers in the hair above the nape of his neck as they kissed with feverish enthusiasm. His words sent flutters in her stomach, simply by the mere sound of his voice so much more gentle than it had been a moment before. Athena felt his hands fiddle with her jeans and finally she pulled away to undress. “The day’s not over yet,” she pointed out, kicking the jeans away once they were off. She’d barely registered the clock when they teleported in - it was some time in the evening now if she could recall correctly. With only the bare minimum of clothing on her body now, she decided to let Hugo deal with it once they got into the warmer bed and he was just as undressed.
When he was just as ready, she absently threw the covers off a part of the bed and pulled him close, pressing her body against his as she teetered over the edge of the bed. She was just starting to register the strangeness of the situation - but as strange as it was, it felt perfectly right. Being at death’s door put her in no rush to start overthinking life again.
HUGO:
Sharing a cocky grin with her as she claimed there was still time to put herself in harm's way, Hugo's own hands went to his belt, starting on the buckle. "You got me there, Ariel." He smirked, doubling over as he pulled the material off him and kicked his jeans aside as well. There was a strange comfort between them, one he couldn't pick the origin of given this was arguably the first time they'd done this together. Yet, Hugo didn't feel the need to impress her, to do anything uncharacteristic like he might with a total stranger. Instead, he simply came back to her as she turned around and scooped an arm around her waist, leaning in to kiss her again.
Leaning in and supporting her as he pushed her down, he was able to feed Athena into the bed, crawling over her front until they were settled. Laying his front down against hers, he took note of the style of her underwear, the casual comfort rather than anything dramatic or flashy that he was used to. Leaning down to kiss her neck, his nose nudged her jaw upwards, attempting to get more access to the skin there.
ATHENA:
The bed was a lot more comfortable this time around, possibly because she just felt much more at ease then the first time she’d had her back against it. She watched Hugo move up, putting a hand on his back and slowly moving it down as he got closer, letting her fingers trace the edges and curves of his skin. She felt her breathing quicken slightly at the feeling of his lips on her neck - excitement rather than what definitely could have been fear after the previous vampire ordeal. Her head tilted upwards, exposing it more as her other hand traveled behind his head and she clearly appreciated for the first time how soft his hair was. The whole thing felt like an adventure, and she was eager to keep exploring. It was quiet in the nicest way, only the sounds of their mingled breathing, shifting of bed sheets and what might have been cicadas outside. Maybe it’d been later than she first realized.
HUGO:
Focusing on the flex of a tendon in her neck as Athena arched her head back, Hugo's blunt teeth lightly grazed it, tongue touching her skin softly after he'd left a lightly bruised mark behind. Raking a hand down her side, his fingers smoothed along her thigh and curled behind her knee, raising a leg against his hip the more he explored her body. He counted himself lucky, not having envisioned this would be here he ended up tonight with her. Particularly not when he'd grabbed her by the wrist and forced her almost to her death. Now, this... this had to be pure luck.
Lifting himself to find her lips again, he tugged the straps down of her bra, growing impatient with the last remaining garments between them. Scooting back a second so that she could sit up, he speedily grabbed for the clasp behind her and warred with it for a brief moment. Springing free finally, he helped himself and pulled it off her, flinging it somewhere behind before pushing her back into the pillows, her hair splaying and Hugo's grin turning sinister once more.
ATHENA:
The quiet sigh escaped her lips at the touches and Athena quickly allowed the clothing to be taken off before she sat up enough to press herself lightly against him and hold the nape of his neck for a slow but hungry kiss. Her heart hadn’t slowed since they’d begun, perpetually in a state of disbelief and excitement. He was distracting enough to shut her brain up from logic and simply let her indulge in this selfish, hedonistic pleasure. 
 Seeing the ridiculous grin on his face she met his eyes and gave him a subtly sardonic, playful look before leaning up enough to capture his lips with hers and wipe the smile away. The hand on his back trailed further down and began to tug at the last bit of fabric left on him, now getting impatient again.
HUGO:
The grip on the waistband of his dark boxer briefs had Hugo smirking into the kiss, as if suddenly reminded that Athena had initiated this and he was just the one happy to please. Pushing himself up from her and breaking the kiss to look down between them, he attempted ridding the material with one hand. Struggling with the angle though, he had to kneel up and rid it with a tangle of legs and a final kick off the bed which took half the duvet with it. Caring little as his skin was on fire anyway, he turned back to the woman beneath him and lowered himself down again, settling between her thighs.
In a mix of lips tasting, fingers wandering, material shedding and thighs parting — Hugo got lost in the feeling of her. Sometimes it was simply the sharp angles of her long legs, the sweet curve of her hip against his or the smell of salt in her hair... Sometimes he simply just couldn't control himself, gripping tightly at her waist or breast, wanting to mold his hands to every arc and crook. Lining himself up between her thighs, Hugo broke the kiss momentarily to glance down between their bodies again, the attractive soft curve of her chest and his own brushing, the gentle pressure of him pushing against her entrance making his mind go straight to the gutter. His forehead pressed to hers in a sweet silhouette of the two breathing in each other's faces, clearly wrapped and excited for what was to come next. He hoped she didn't regret this. Not for the sake of his pride, but simply by the fact he was enamored with her. If he'd been curious about her before well then now he was completely infactuated. Pushing into her and allowing himself to revel at the sound of the air that rushed through her lungs, his own jaw slackened with a groan that fell out of him, the tune of it almost sounding surprised, as if he hadn't imagined it would feel so good. Only basking in it for a moment or two though, Hugo didn't hesitate to adjust himself above her and begin to find a rhythm that seemed more her speed.
ATHENA:
Hugo was a demon, and she knew what he was capable of, but in the moment all she saw in front of her was a beautifully tragic creature she could relate to. She saw a monster she could keep close and let ruin her life as long as there were moments like these. The desire to move quickly in their passion was staled, slowed down by the heart-stirring adventure of looking at him, feeling him and losing herself in the most innocent details. She explored the hollows in his back, bulges of his muscles, the ridges of bone structure, the softness of his skin and the way his pulse felt if she put her hands in just the right places for just the right amount of time. Fearless and uninhibited by worry, Athena met his eyes when she could, expression nothing but soft and hazy from the pleasure of the moment. She just wanted to see his face and all it’s details and how she never really noticed just how soft the blue in his eyes could be. They were once like glaciers to her, beautiful, imposing but cold and hard. Now she saw a cloudless summer sky and knew the hottest, blazing fires always burned blue.
It was her mistake she felt so close to Hugo then, and so amazed. There had been no time to prepare - emotions had been running wild and high. Her mental inhibitions were stunted by the near death experience. So underneath him, she enjoyed every pleasure, not just the physical but the emotional too. She enjoyed it so much, it hurt - sending her skin tingling and causing a tight, longing feeling in her chest. That was when she knew she’d made a mistake. Not in the act itself, but in the fact she was letting Hugo in far too much on a personal level far extending physical delight. Yet, in the moment, Athena couldn’t care less. In the moment, all she wanted was him in every possible way.
Her body responded immediately as she felt him enter, back arching slightly and a small, shaky exhale leaving her parted lips. Athena gazed up at him when his face came close to hers. Heavy lidded, she looked down enough to gently brush her forehead against his and wrap her arms gently around him while her body to adjusted. When he moved, she moved, hips meeting the slow beginning thrusts but welcoming an increase of speed. When it happened, her nails began to dig a little into the skin of his back and she tensed her arms. In the silence, her soft breathing was quick and heavy.
HUGO:
Listening to the sounds she made was like allowing his senses to be manipulated by music, ringing in his hears and swirling in his head to make him feel things he wasn't used to feeling when in this kind of position usually. As he met a steady rhythm, it wasn't long before he quickened the pace, attempting not to get too caught up and lose himself in her before she could experience anything. Excitement knotting in his gut, Hugo propped himself up and reached with one hand to grab for her hand, raising it by her head and pressing it deep into the pillow. Fingers tangled with hers, palms snug and forearms flush as he lowered his nose back down at hers, their breathing mingling before he took her lips again for a moment.
Hips grinding into her, Hugo's mind began to clear of anything else. Of all the stress he'd collected that week from the election and doing Catherine's bidding for it. All the blood on his hands this week felt washed away by the soft curve of Athena's lips and the gentility in her eyes like he wasn't some shadow of moral abnormality. With her, he didn't feel like anything, he felt weightless. In limbo. No longer awaiting judgment day for his crimes and sins. With her, he felt that choice of freedom she'd been yelling about.
Grunting as he reveled in the good feeling, his fingers clutching in hers and the others splayed in the bed beneath them so he could use it as leverage to angle himself, Hugo picked up the pace. Lips no longer having the idiosyncrasy to keep up with hers, his mind becoming a one-track plane, all he could do was keep his eyes on her as the pressure began to build and his skin began to sweat. He watched her expression, the furrow in her brows and the way her lips shaped themselves when reacting to him screwing her. He tried to make it build for her the same way it was building for him, free hand jumping down between them in sudden remembrance as he slid his fingers between her thighs in tandem with everything he was already giving her, hoping it'd get her to the finish line before he got there.
ATHENA:
Her fingers intertwined with Hugo gently, not firmly, and the tips moved slowly up the back of his hand. Her legs and hips moved up a little and that was when her body twitched with a particularly powerful stimulation, sending shivers down her spine and causing her to arch her back and a shaky gasp to escape her lips. Perhaps because Hugo had centuries of practice, but once he’d found the spot, he kept hitting it almost perfectly every time, causing soft moans to vibrate in her throat. She grabbed hold on his hand harder now, digging nails into the back of it or otherwise letting go completely when her body couldn’t focus on anything but the pleasure.
When the pace picked up, the angle was accurate less often but she had already wanted the increased speed and strength in his thrusts. She was on the path of finishing and every one of them sent shivers of pleasure throughout her whole body. When Hugo added his hands, it was enough to start making her lose sense completely. Athena’s back arched arched and her head tilted back against the pillow. Her muscles started tensing, preparing as the pleasure built, built and she could hear the blood rushing and heart pounding in her ears. Just a moment later, a wave of intense pleasure hit Athena hard like a stormy riptide. A small cry vibrated from her throat, came out muffled behind her clenched teeth and then left as a gasp when her mouth parted. Her body bucked once beneath Hugo as it all finished for her and she lay limply while coming down from the powerful high.
HUGO:
Watching her chest rise with the curl of her spine, her eyes shutting as she began to fall apart but somehow seemed to still maintain control of herself ( classic Athena, he thought ) Hugo felt his own muscles begin to tense in response. Watching her come undone because of him was better than any pornographic display he could pick up cheap from Alastor or Lestat. The way her jaw set and her body trembled with the comedown was just divine. So good in fact, that it didn't take long for him to follow behind. Despite how she slackened into the bed, he pushed a fist hard into the mattress by her waist and hammered home on that feeling in his gut. Feeling a burst of flame spread through him as if he'd just broken out in hives, Hugo's mouth fell open with reoccurring sounds until it was clear he'd hit touchdown. Pushing himself as far into her as he could, holding there and relishing the way his body vibrated in response, he let out a shiver then before relenting. Sweaty and hot, he opened his eyes slowly and peered down at her. At that moment, he mentally captured the image of her beneath him. Soft, disheveled and satisfied. The next time he ever had to put a knife to her throat, he knew he'd think back to this moment.
Getting a slow return of strength, he began to pull out and flopped onto the bed next to her, chest rising and falling and heart still hammering away deep in his chest. Staring at the ceiling for a moment, his expression read astonished. Then though, it faded into a  grin as he turned his head to look at her beside him. "We should fight more often," He commented, glancing down her figure with a slight prowling gaze.
ATHENA:
She regained most of the strength she had before a heartbeat later as he started slamming roughly into her. Athena used her free hand to keep holding on to his back and she decided to wrap her feet around his waist while she watched him reach his peak and come undone right before her. It was raw, rare, vulnerable and she found herself fascinated by the way his lips shaped tightly and then let go with sounds of pleasure coming out of them. The way his body shone with sweat and the disheveled state of his hair after her hands had run through it. Every little thing.
She didn’t completely relax until Hugo had pulled out and fell down beside her. Instinctively, Athena flipped herself enough to rest her head and hands right against his skin, chest still rising and falling from the come down. Some of her hair fell over him from the movement and slipped down his arm to fall back against the mattress. “It wasn’t the fight,” she breathed out quietly, closing her eyes and relaxing in how warm and comfortable she felt right there. “It was your honesty.” Against the bed, she somewhat shook her head once. “But if you ever try to kill me again, it’ll be harder to forgive you a second time.”
HUGO:
Glancing back down to her and noticing her eyes shutting, Hugo took a selfish moment to soak in the vision he saw. Her dark lashes framed against her cheeks, the sharp angle of her nose. She was striking as she could be gentle, and he found that intriguing about her. "Well that explains it, honesty's not really my thing." He mumbled, turning his chin down to look across the room and away from her, a light frown on his face. There was still so much about him that she didn't know, so many parts of him he didn't feel the need to share or expose simply because he already knew how she'd react. After years of being honest, eventually, Hugo had given it up. Everyone always reacted a similar way and he was tired of going through the motions on loop.
"Noted. Don't burn down any more houses." He smirked, lifting an arm to slip it under his head, trying not to like the feeling of Athena against his side too much, expecting it wasn't going to last very long. Without the adrenaline of an argument in their system, who knew where they went from here?
ATHENA:
Athena expected Hugo would say something of the sort on honesty, but she didn’t push the matter. “I’ll try not to,” she murmured casually in response to his light joke, but there was just the slightest hint of humor in her voice as well.
She opened her eyes just a moment to reach for the nearest blanket and pull it over herself. Curling up on herself a bit for comfort and effectively not caring how close she was to him, Athena closed her eyes again and inhaled slowly. “I don’t care what time it is, I’m really tired… so I’m sleeping and you’re not going to wake me up unless it’s more life and death situations I need to deal with.” She said in a stern murmur, though her voice was quiet and a bit weak. Now that her body had no more adrenaline and dopamine left to spare from all the drama, dangers and bedroom activities of that day, she could feel the crash happening.
HUGO:
Turning his head back towards her, he looked down at her expression again, watching at it softened more after her words trailed out. She was already slipping away from him, he could see it happening as her brow relaxed and her shoulders rose slower than before as she inhaled. For once, he didn't feel the severity of her departure from the conversation. Watching Athena fall asleep beside him was, in fact, the most unrealistic thing he'd thought he'd do to date when it came to whatever it was they were ( friends? Lovers? Something more, something less? ). With her eyes closed and her mind drifting off, Hugo found himself smiling. A genuine, curious kind of smile that eradicated his age by years. Then, despite his promise to Catherine and his duty to his work, he closed his eyes too and dreamt of the ocean.
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punsandtofu ¡ 6 years ago
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Change Can Be Good (Compiled RP)
punsandtofu: It had been roughly two weeks since Beast Boy’s injury and he was just about officially healed. Much to his delight, Cyborg informed him he was now free to shape shift, but should still be careful. Beast Boy being Beast Boy did not heed this warning. He knew his own body after all. He was all better! At least, he felt all better. He proved it to himself by morphing into his various animal forms once out of view. It felt great; like stretching after being in a car for several hours. How to tell his teammates the good news? Hm… A devilish smirk appeared on his face as he came up with an idea. Turning into a mouse, he scampered off towards the main room. 
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azarathian:
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Before anything else came tea. The sorceress poured a stream of water from the kettle’s spout into her mug, watching how the teabag became engulfed and began to bleed out its flavours with a cloud of colour. To her side, a lone pan sat on the stove - but it wasn’t empty. A pale batter dwelled inside, slowly browning as the heat from below radiated upwards. The odd bubbles could be seen, but Raven felt a lot more confident in her ability to make pancakes now than she had in the past. Not that she’d practised making them since then… but she’d practised making other things, and they hadn’t turned out quite as awful as she’d thought they would. She figured she could either never attempt to make pancakes again, and remain terrible at them, or she could try again and again until she eventually improved. Right now, she felt hopeful, and the mixture was still quite raw in the pan, which meant she had yet to mess up (by burning, at least). She had the heat set low, just in case. And keeping one eye on her meal, she took a teaspoon from the cutlery draw and stirred the teabag round in her drink. The girl took a sip, then set her mug down on the counter, eager to get back to her ‘cooking’. She took the handle of the pan and gave it a weak shimmy to loosen the edges of the mix that were beginning to cling. So far, so good. punsandtofu: The green mouse entered the main room, the doors opening and closing behind seemingly no one. Standing on his hind legs, he sniffed the air. Seemed someone was cooking something. Skittering over to the kitchen, he got a closer look. Raven was cooking something? Without his help? Well, he hadn’t expected that. Did he dare interrupt her while trying to successfully cook by herself? … He dared. Returning to human form behind her, he spoke up.
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“Guess who can shape shift agaaaaiiiinnnn~” azarathian: The unannounced presence behind her sent her hurling around with a start and a yelp.
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But as soon as she turned to find the changeling standing there, looking smug, her face fell almost effortlessly back to a blank (if not slightly impatient) state. Her brow twitched as she looked at him. Clearly the doors that had randomly opened despite no one walking through a minute prior had been the work of a green sneak. “Joy.” punsandtofu: The changeling cackled at her response. Totally worth it~ “Aw, c’mon, Rae. You know you missed my natural charm~” He morphed into a regal looking Norwegian Forest Cat before prancing around the kitchen floor, flaunting his fine fluffy feline fur and perfect posture. After stretching and letting out a meow, the fabulously fluffy feline weaved between her legs before resting his cheek on her leg as he looked up at her with a look that seemed to say, “Yeah. I know I’m glorious.” azarathian:
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“Not really,” she mumbled, scrunching her nose up in annoyance at the feel of fur sliding against her leg. It didn’t take long for her nudge the cat away with the side of her foot and promptly turn back to her pan on the stove. “You’ve timed it well, anyway,” the cloaked girl said, eyes now back to her pancake and hand back on the handle. “Robin told you about the opening of the new museum today, right?” punsandtofu: The cat scampered away before returning to human form. “I suppose you do come to miss my conversation skills when I’m in animal form.” He smirked before blinking in confusion. “…That’s today? Crud… I need a shower. Gotta be at my best for my fans~”
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azarathian:
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“Yup. All two of them.” Well, to be fair, his ego really needed a kick before they left. Couldn’t have him making a big song and dance of himself out in front of the public. They could all do with maintaining their dignity. punsandtofu: “Psh! I have at least four fans! My biggest fan is standing right here, making pancakes!” He joked. “And doing so pretty well.” azarathian: As her wrist jiggled again to move the batter around in the pan, she allowed a glance in the changeling’s direction. The tease didn’t go unnoticed, but was not enough to reap a response from the girl, as she focused more on the comment that followed.
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“You think?” she asked, genuinely curious, before her eyes fell back down. “Don’t speak too soon. It’s not done yet.” punsandtofu: He walked closer to her and stood by her side to get a better look at her attempt. “No, but it’s not burnt and it actually looks like a pancake… You don’t need to shake the pan, by the way. The pancake doesn’t have to coat the whole pan. You’re thinking of crepes.” azarathian: “Oh,” Raven said, her hand stilling. She thought she’d remembered seeing the host of a cooking show shimmying the pan whilst making pancakes before, but she’d clearly been watching him make crepes. Now her pancake was slightly thinner than it probably should be, but everything else was essentially done right. As long as it was edible by the end, she’d consider that a success. “Should I flip it now or give it more time?” punsandtofu: “Well, the edges are starting to brown and the top is bubbling, so you should probably flip it. Should I show you how to flip it? Pancakes can be a bit tricky and fall apart when you try to flip ‘em.” azarathian: She gave a small shrug and a nod, before handing the pan to him in a manner that said ‘go for it’. She’d probably do better to watch someone else do it than have her hard work end up on the floor. punsandtofu: He nodded and took the pan. Sliding the spatula dead center under the pancake, he flipped it effortlessly. “There~ Ya just gotta do it quick so they don’t fall apart.” azarathian: She gave a light hum, impressed but reluctant to show it, of course. Taking the pan back from his hold, she returned it to the stove. “I’ll try it next time. With the horde we’ve got to face today, I’m really not ready to risk ruining my breakfast. I’m gonna need the energy.” The roll to her voice seemed stronger, stressing how much she wasn’t looking forward to what was to transpire this afternoon. punsandtofu: “You need energy for a museum opening? How hard were you planning to scowl at the cameras?”
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azarathian: “It’s not just about standing around for the cameras,” she bit back, though quickly composed herself once more.
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“There will be interviewers. And onlookers. And questions. Not my idea of a good afternoon.” punsandtofu
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“Whoa! Calm down. I was just joking… I don’t see why questions would be a problem for you. You’re the smart one, after all.” azarathian: It must’ve been nice to be as blissfully ignorant as the green boy beside her. She sighed, shoulders slumping. “The questions will be prying into our lives; designed to catch us out. It’s what interviewers do. It’s what ‘the people’ want to know.“ punsandtofu: “Well, it’s not like they’re giving us a truth serum. We don’t have to tell them anything we don’t want to.” azarathian:
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She scoffed. “Doesn’t make it any more bearable.” As she tried to ignore what was to take place in a mere couple of hours, her gaze flitted down to the pancake again, only to see it turning a shade of golden brown. Using her own judgement and not her friend’s this time, she grabbed a plate from the crockery cupboard and carefully slid the pancake onto it from the pan. “Chef’s verdict?” She was presenting the dish to him to look at, smirking faintly at the use of the familiar nickname. punsandtofu: He looked over the pancake with eyes half lidded and put on his best snooty accent. “Well, in my expert opinion, the circumference of the pancake is of a desirable size and the color is a pleasant golden brown.” He spouted the first fancy sounding nonsense to come to his head. azarathian: Well, that sounded good enough. “Works for me,” she said, lips curved up at the edge in a shameless satisfaction. Raven then finished the meal by drizzling a generous helping of syrup over the top. Perfect. As the magus took a seat at the kitchen’s island table, placing her breakfast in front of her along with the tea she’d made earlier, she looked over to the other then began to eat. “You might wanna claim the bathroom before Robin beats you to it. Something tells me all the cameras later will call for an extra hour doing his hair.” punsandtofu:
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“Why can’t we have another bathroom?!” The changeling exclaimed dramatically before dashing off. “Enjoy your breakfaaaast!” His voice trailed off down the hall. azarathian: TWO HOURS LATER All five heroes stood in line, one next to the other, on a wide open platform erected just in front of the city’s new museum. Robin had been asked to do the honours of cutting the red ribbon to announce the museum officially open to the public. The mayor of Jump made a speech to the gathering crowds behind his podium, finishing it by cordially thanking the Titans for their consistent and devoted service to the well-being of both the city and its inhabitants. There were cheers that followed, and after the masked boy was also called to deliver a small speech of his own, it was time for the media’s turn to speak. Raven had had to endure such events as this before, and had in the past often tried to get out of them. But it wasn’t so easily done, for like all her other duties as a member of the Titans, she simply had a responsibility to follow through with them. It was expected. And although she hadn’t grown to like the experience any more, she had certainly learnt how to handle it better. Over four years of practise will do that. The interviewers had a tactic; one that she was well aware of, whether they knew this or not. They would do their utmost to separate the team whilst asking questions, not only to get more out of them but to really put them on the spot without the comfort of their fellow teammates’ support or interjection. They figured if they were lucky, one might slip up and give away something juicy for the headlines. Raven could be certain they’d get nothing from her. In fact, she made a conscious effort to keep her answers as brief as they come. At present, she found herself opposite a big round camera lens that seemed to be staring right through her. But there were more eyes she had to worry about, like those of the renowned journalist that stood before her, microphone in hand, spewing gabble like a fish drinks water. From the corner of her eye she could see Beast Boy close by in a similar position, and tried to keep an ear out in case he said something stupid. “You have a reputation for being impassive in the public eye. But we all have a hunch the same can’t be said for you when around your team. So tell us - how do you feel about the recent discovery of your leader and best friend dating within the team? Does it make for awkward moments in the tower? And how has it affected your dynamic as a unit?” It felt as though this woman was speaking a thousand words a minute, and Raven couldn’t help but internally groan at the assumptions that were already being made. Weren’t they there to talk about the museum and how it was going to benefit the city? And yet here she was, being asked questions about Robin and Starfire’s relationship, which wasn’t even ‘recent’ anymore. All the media wanted was a heaping of love-story gossip. “I’m happy for them.” She tried to sound polite in her blatant monotone, but didn’t quite succeed. “And the team is as it’s always been. Little has changed.” punsandtofu: As boring as it was to just stand there and do nothing, Beast Boy had learned over the years to keep good posture and smile. The interesting part would come soon enough, he told himself. After the ribbon cutting and speech, the changeling finally had an opportunity to talk and boy, was he going to use it. “According to our sources, you haven’t been seen in any battles recently. Is this true?” “Yeah. I’ve been recovering from an injury sustained in battle. Such is the life of a superhero.” “And your teammates were able to manage just fine without you?” The teen looked a little irritated by this, knowing what they were implying. “Of course they managed; they’re superheroes. We’ve all had our hits in battle and had to recover. As great as we are as a team, we can survive on our own, when needed.” Well, this was no fun. Time to change that! “I don’t know why you’re asking all this boring stuff when you could be asking about the giant anaconda in our tower.” At the confusion on the faces of the interviewers, Beast Boy acted shocked. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about the anaconda in the tower!” He smacked his face. “With all the people we’ve called to get rid of it, you’d think word would have gotten out! Don’t tell me I’m the one to blab!” azarathian: “Is that so? We can hardly believe there hasn’t been a time you’ve not felt like the ‘third wheel’ or ‘spare part’.” This lady was really desperate for some kind of drama. Raven didn’t even have to lie because, honestly, all the drama the media wished to pry from them simply didn’t even exist in the first place. “Uh.” Her brows were low and disclosing her annoyance at this point. “Is this really-“ “Don’t tell me you don’t know about the anaconda in the tower!” That was more than enough to halt her speech and set her radar on alert. Why did he insist on playing with the media like this? Couldn’t he just answer sensibly? Clearly not. “Sorry,” she muttered as she left her spot in front of the camera, though she didn’t really care that she’d cut the interview short. Not really her problem. It only took a moment for her to ‘accidentally’ interrupt her green peer’s interview, but upon her approach the interviewer quickly grabbed the opportunity he had before him. “Ah, lucky us! Raven, we’ve just been informed of the reptilian problem your home is facing. Any input?” “Was facing,” she lied. But then, this was less of a lie than he’d committed. “I don’t think Beast Boy’s been told yet – the matter was solved yesterday. Not much to tell there.” She shot him a subtle glance from her side-view that distinctly conveyed her disfavour for his fibbing. punsandtofu: “Really?!” He acted shocked at Raven’s comment, but thought quickly on how to keep this going. “I thought you made up that whole snake charming thing!” Did he see Raven’s look? Yes. Did he care? No. “I thought that only worked on cobras in baskets! I can’t believe you charmed an anaconda into leaving the tower!” azarathian: “I didn’t,” she almost growled, and had she not been in the public eye, she very well would’ve. If anything though, her glare just grew darker as she realised Beast Boy’s failure to heed her warning. “The point is it’s been taken care of.” “Ah, well what good news!” the reporter chimed, though Raven could see that his next question was already dripping from his parting lips. “And Raven, so good of you to join us. Now, we’ve just been informed of Beast Boy’s recent injury. Though he is clearly fighting fit again now,” the man gave a smile to the changeling, “it must’ve been quite the scare at the time - enough to incapacitate him, so we’ve been told. You must be relieved to see your teammate well again?” The mic was held out to her. What a stupid question. Of course she was. What kind of elaborate answer were they hoping to get from her with this? Unless it was leading to a more interesting question to follow, she found it pretty pointless. “We all are. Serious injuries like that don’t happen often but it’s never good when they do. He was in good hands the whole time, though. We knew he’d be okay.” “That’s what we like to hear!” A muffled gabble came from the crowd behind him.  “Now, let’s not beat around the bush.” Oh Azar. Here it was. The onslaught of invasive questions. She knew it was coming; the civil stuff was just their warm-up to pave their way towards questions like this. Now she kind of wished she was back with her own interviewer, who she had no doubt would be too intimidated by her presence alone to ask anything too personal. Now she was with Beast Boy, though, she was suddenly a lot more vulnerable. “Love is clearly in the air for a certain two titans.” It was obvious who. Everyone but Raven seemed to glance over into Robin and Starfire’s direction. “But what about the rest of the team?” He had two of the three right there. He might as well have just said ‘what about you?’ “Are there any other romances within the titan network we should know about?” Even if there was, it didn’t mean they ‘should know’ about anything at all. It was honestly none of their business, and yet she just knew the topic would be brought up regardless. punsandtofu: Beast Boy gave a quiet huff at Raven’s refusal to play along. What harm could it do? They were just giving the public what they wanted, interesting lies. He’d think it was just because she didn’t like silliness, but that couldn’t be it. She was friends with him, after all. At the mention of himself, he smiled and posed, showing he was, indeed, fighting fit. At the mention of love, he froze. For the love of all things vegan, don’t ask him about that! It had just occurred to him that he had a secret he very much did not want getting out. It was an interviewer’s job to get secrets out! He was so doomed!He gave a nervous chuckle before stammering out an answer. “N-no. No no no no no. There’s no other romance to be found in the tower.” He waved his hands. “Except for maybe Cyborg and meat.”
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azarathian: It was plain on her face that she was disapproving of the question, but she had to swallow the objection. Though she succeeded to do that, she still really didn’t want to answer anything, so when the boy beside her did so for her, she exhaled a breath of relief. But soon after, a raised brow and side-glance followed. He certainly answered that… frantically. He wasn’t trying to keep something under wraps for Cyborg that she didn’t know about, was he? Despite her confusion, the girl’s lips remained still and unmoving as she silently prayed for the interviewer to move on. “Oh, we hardly believe that!” the man proceeded, earning a twitch from Raven’s eyebrow. “After all, the titan network is huge. Are you telling us you don’t have your eye on a single honorary member? C’mon, you can tell us.”
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That mic was inching ever closer to Beast Boy’s face, and though she felt for him being put on the spot, Raven was at least glad that the reporter now seemed to be veering away from her. He was probably smart enough to know he’d get no scandal in return. Beast Boy, on the other hand, had just blabbed about an imaginary anaconda invading their home. If something juicy was going to be spilled, it’d much more likely be from him. punsandtofu:
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They don’t believe him? Oh, crud crud crud! Wait… honorary titan? They weren’t onto him! “I can say with a hundred percent certainty that I’m not after a single honorary titan.” He grinned widely, feeling a bit more confident now. Time to mess with them some more! “If you want to know my true love though, I will gladly tell you. My true love, the only one for me, the one I’d do anything for, the one I put above all else is… tofu.” azarathian: The crowd that had been leaning further forward with suspense instantly groaned and whined in defeat at the last word that left him. Though not a full-blown eye-roll, Raven’s gaze did rise without hesitation as her mouth pursed to the side. The reporter feigned a genuine laugh, but was honestly just irritated he hadn’t gotten the answer he wanted. Reluctantly, he then made eye-contact with the sibyl. Might as well try his luck. “Well we do hope you and your true love are happy together,” he continued to chuckle, and then Raven found the microphone turning to her. “And yourself? Anyone in the sights of the unflappable Raven?” Cringe. “What he said,” was all the man got. And now he daren’t provoke further. “Ah, such a shame! But then, you’re both young with busy lives - plenty of time for that in future, eh?” punsandtofu: Once the interviewers had sapped all the tabloid worthy information they believed they would get from the Titans, they finally let them be. The team made their way off the platform and, once on the ground, Beast Boy was approached by a giddy gaggle of girls. “Oh my gosh! Beast Boy, can I get your autograph?!” “You’re my favorite color!” “I’m a vegetarian too!” Though surprised, the changeling chuckled and did his best to please his fans. “Sure thing! Got a pen? Green’s my favorite too! Good to hear!” Soon enough, Beast Boy had taken the form of a lemur and was signing autographs as the girls pet his soft fur. azarathian: By the time they’d finished appeasing the reporters and cameras, Raven was undeniably drained. When these sort of public events came around, it was this part she looked forward to the most. The end. But as she stepped down with her friends from the stage they’d been stood on, she was instantly reminded about the one thing that could often follow the interviews - the public. The thought of having to converse further made her chest feel tight and her limbs heavier. Still, she kept close to Cyborg as they descended, hoping to find some kind of protection from his overpowering frame. When she glanced past his great chrome arm, her gaze locked straight to the several girls huddling around Beast Boy in front of her.
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It was safe to say he seemed to approve of the attention being thrown his way, and for a good few moments she couldn’t pry her eyes away from just… watching. punsandtofu: Once the autographs were done, Beast Boy was free to just bask in the positive attention. His lemur body relaxed limply in one of the girls’ arms as the others pet him all over. He let out a purr-like sound as he was in a state of pure bliss. He rarely got this kind of attention. Save for Starfire, the other Titans were rarely swayed by his animal forms. “You’re so cuuuuute~” One of the girls cooed. “But, y’know, I think you’re even cuter in human form~” The girl holding him set him down and he promptly returned to human form. “Heh. Thanks.” He grinned at the flattering female. “It’s the ears isn’t it~?”
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“It’s all of you!” The girl continued as the other two swooned over him. “So, now that you’re in human form, can I ask you something?” “Sure! Shoot!” “You said you were single earlier?” “Yeah?” “Would you like to change that~?” She gave him a flirty smirk. The green teen flinched and gave a nervous chuckle. “Well… I, uh… I dunno. I mean… “ He trailed off, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to flat out refuse her. azarathian: Raven stiffened. And the worst part was, she didn’t even know why. She’d seen fans flirt with Beast Boy many times in the past, and yet the thought that immediately flew through the titan’s head at this scene was ‘Who does this girl think she is?’ A strange heat swelled within her, beginning as a tight knot in her stomach then swarming out to the tips of her fingers. She eyed the girl coldly from her place beside Cyborg, oblivious to the fact she was doing so. ‘
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The empath granted herself a few moments to adjust and dispel this new, stubborn spite sitting in her like acid. Her breath came shallow from her nose as she pressed her lips together, but no matter how she tried to draw her focus away from the two, both her mind and body rebelled. Leaving herself no time to even ponder the reasons behind her plight, she abruptly pushed past the metal man and made a point to then march right past the changeling and his horde, an air of frustration enveloping her like a cloud. “I’m going home,” was all she said. Flatly. Bluntly. To no one in particular. punsandtofu: Beast Boy blinked in confusion as the empath stormed past. He could tell her departure was not a result of having enough of being in public. Something was wrong. She was upset about something. “Raven, wait!” He called after her as he freed himself from his fans. While he was concerned for her, he was secretly grateful for the excuse to get away from the girl without shooting her down. He speed walked his way to her side. “Are you okay?” azarathian: At first she wasn’t even sure if anyone had noticed her departure, if anyone had even heard her announce she was leaving. Her pace had been so swift she’d gotten out of earshot of Robin, Cyborg and Starfire in an instant, and she just let her feet continue to carry her forward. Just… away. She figured her teammates knew by now not to question her when she was socially exhausted from a long day and wanting to simply go back to her room. In many ways, it was to be expected. So as her boots hit down on the pavement she thought she might’ve gotten away with her angered exit without anyone suspecting much else was wrong besides her need for solitude. It was when Beast Boy’s call hit her ears, however, that her step slowed a touch. More out of surprise than anything. Her expression was unchanged by the time he reached her, however; brows low and lips down-turned. “I’m fine,” she said without looking at him, still with that heaviness to her walk. punsandtofu:
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Frustrated, the changeling reached for her wrist in an attempt to bring her to a stop. “Why are you lying to me again? You know by now that you can just tell me when you need some alone time.” He felt insulted that Raven would lie to him like this. Did all their recent bonding mean nothing? Given the moment she happened to leave in a huff, he could only assume her anger had something to do with those girls. Was she mad they were stroking his ego? Did she secretly wish she had fans like his too? …Was she mad that one had asked him out? He knew better than to ask that last question. azarathian: A lot was happening in a very short space of time. Raven had barely had the opportunity to reflect on the twisting in her gut, and Beast Boy frowning and huffing at her was the last thing she needed. She was tired, on edge, her bones felt like weights, and her temples were throbbing with an oncoming headache. She’d been stood up on a pedestal for the city to see and ransacked with intrusive journalists all afternoon, and now this total stranger of a girl had just hit on Beast Boy in a way that made her want to cringe. But she couldn’t, because - of course - she was still drowning in a loud and bustling mass of people. People she didn’t know yet who wanted to know so much about her. It was depleting. She just wanted to be in her dark, quiet room. She pulled her wrist from his grip. “Fine,” she said sharply, stopping mid-step and facing him. “I need some alone time.”  The girl didn’t even give him a chance to respond before she was walking away again into the crowd, cloak swaying behind her with the wind. punsandtofu: As she pulled away from him, he let go. He knew better by now than to push her any further. Holding his hands up, he silently conveyed that he would leave her alone. A few steps away from him later, the changeling spoke up. “Just talk to me when you’re feeling better, okay?”
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azarathian: 11:00PM THAT EVENING The day had seemed to drift away since she’d returned to her room. Raven had heard Beast Boy’s last words to her, but had made no effort to talk to him as he’d requested. Instead, she’d tried to meditate, insisting to herself that she wasn’t hungry and therefore didn’t have to leave her sanctuary to make dinner. She hadn’t been surprised that she’d received no knocks on her door from concerned teammates; each and every one knew all too well that she had every right to be drained from the day, and respectfully granted her the seclusion they assumed she needed to meditate. But even without visitors, her meditation was interrupted again and again. Not by any person, but by her own thoughts. Her centre, that core place she aimed to reach, where her mind was a wasteland, seemed unreachable every time she closed her eyes and began to chant. And in her chest, remnants of that same fire she’d felt before still simmered. The feeling haunted her. Why had it come to exist to begin with? Raven thought of herself as someone who knew herself extremely well. She always had a tight hold on her emotions and was seldom left unsure of what to make of her thoughts. But now, as she hovered cross-legged above her bed, arms upturned and resting on her thighs, the sorceress was at a loss for what to think of anything. It made no sense. And though she tried with determination to press the notion down to some small, shadowy corner of her mind, a part of Raven knew that this sensation, this sharp hit she’d fallen to earlier… was jealousy. The girl lowered to her bed with a sigh, and didn’t hesitate to throw herself back to her pillows once she’d landed.
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“This is not okay,” was all she could breathe out into the dark room. Her heart felt heavy. And she utterly loathed the feeling. Turning to her side, Raven curled her body into itself slightly, bringing both hands under the pillow her head rested upon. Slowly, her tense face gave way to a more calm visage. As if in a trance. And for the first time, without resistance… she gave her mind permission to just roam as it pleased, and think of Beast Boy. punsandtofu: Beast Boy was quiet that night as well… for him, anyway. He had some serious thinking to do. He wondered how Raven felt and what he should do about his own feelings. Though it may have been wishful thinking, the changeling couldn’t help but believe she felt the same way for him as he did for her. If anything was going to happen, the changeling knew he had to be the one to initiate it. Raven wasn’t the type to readily reveal her emotions and she typically tried to stay within her comfort zone while he was more open to new possibilities. It was with these thoughts in mind that he slid a note under Raven’s door and gave a single quiet knock. ”Care to talk and watch the stars with me? I’ll be on the roof. -BB” Immediately after knocking, he headed for the roof of the Tower. Taking a seat and looking at the night sky, he wondered if Raven would join him.
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azarathian: She wasn’t aware of how much time had passed since she’d settled herself atop her duvet and let her thoughts wander. All essence of time had seemed to be swallowed by the stillness of her darkened room, with only the opal haze of a full moon breathing its way past the glass of her wide window. With her cheek pressed into the cushion beneath her, she exhaled with eyes drawn shut. Nonetheless, they promptly fluttered open once more at the short rap on her door. The girl sat up on her side, only to see that curious piece of paper appear. It earned a rise of her brow, and for a while she just eyed it from her place on the bed. Eventually though, her interest got the better of her. She paced over and took it in her slender fingers. “Care to talk and watch the stars with me? I’ll be on the roof. -BB” A familiar sensation tossed in her chest. Perhaps it was because she’d already avoided him most of the day and felt he deserved better than to be left waiting for someone who wasn’t going to show, but she made the somewhat difficult decision to make her own way towards the roof.
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Once at the highest door of the tower, she crossed through it and was met with the welcoming warmth of a mild breeze. Ahead of her, her teammate sat on the roof’s edge, and it was all she could do to simply walk towards him and make her presence known. “Hey.” punsandtofu: The changeling turned and smiled at her. “Hey.” He turned his attention back to the sky. “Glad you could make it. The stars are really nice tonight. I guess they’re really nice every night, but you know what I mean.” He gave a slight chuckle. azarathian: His words stirred a half-smile from her, though he couldn’t see it. Slowly, she neared his silhouette, until she was standing beside him. As another gentle breeze blew past her, causing the violet tresses of her hair to dance about her neck, she drank in the sight of the endless sea. It soothed her, somewhat; eased her mind back into a state of calm. Sitting beside him, she let her legs hang off the edge of the building, both hands flat on the concrete either side of her. It felt exhilarating, to be so high up and on the precipice. But neither feared falling, for they knew their bodies could carry them back up again at will. Indeed, sometimes the heroes took these aspects of their lives for granted… And who else in all of Jump City had a view like this in their very home? “And we have a full moon, too,” she returned softly. “Lucky us.” The sibyl let a minute of comfortable silence pass before she spoke up again.
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“… I’m sorry about before.” punsandtofu: As she took a seat next to him, Beast Boy smiled. Even if they weren’t saying anything, it was nice just to be together. He knew he would need to talk eventually, but for now, he was enjoying the moment. When she spoke, he turned to her. “It’s okay.“ He’d have asked why she had been upset earlier, but he imagined she would not tell him, if the reason was what he thought it was. “I was just upset that you were upset, but you’re okay now, right?”
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azarathian: “Yeah, I think so,” she began, gaze unmoving from the wandering waves upon the coast. Even as she said this, she felt the falsity in her core. To say she was okay was a significant stretch of the truth, for she was confused. Concerned. Hesitant. Nervous. She sighed.
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“I dunno. Just not been feeling myself, I guess.” punsandtofu: “Dealing with some new emotions?” He couldn’t help but ask. “I know how that feels. Change can be good though.” He was very much hoping for a good change tonight. “What have you been feeling?” azarathian: It seemed like an odd thing for him to say. What did he mean by that? ‘He knows how that feels?’ She allowed herself to glimpse at him out of the corner of her eye, head now tilted slightly in his direction instead of away. “Doesn’t matter,” Raven replied, shaking her head lightly. punsandtofu: He frowned at that. “I think it matters. I think it matters a lot… Maybe I could tell you how I’m feeling first?” He asked, hopefully. azarathian: Her head rose at that, and she faced him fully, fingers pressing further into the roof beneath her. What did he mean? It was only now that her head seemed to rush, reminiscing all their interactions from not only the past few months, but since they’d first met. And above all this, a new question loomed which she hadn’t thought much on before. Why had he slid a letter beneath her door asking that she join him at all? She’d assumed he just wanted to check that she was all right after her earlier behaviour, but now she was second-guessing herself, for it seemed more like he had something specific to talk to her about. It certainly sounded that way, at least. For a moment her breath felt caught in her throat, but she swallowed the nerves. “Okay,” was all that hushed voice let out. It felt as though she’d be breaking some kind of atmosphere if she said anything more. punsandtofu: He took a deep breath and let it out. It was now or never, he told himself. “I feel… happy. I know that sounds normal for me, but, it’s a different type of happy. It’s not a happy I feel when I win at a video game or beat a bad guy or actually get a laugh from one of my jokes. This happiness feels… warm.” He placed a hand to his chest with a smile. “Like my heart’s become a sunny day at the beach with warm waves making their way throughout my entire body.” While he worried he may sound dumb, it was how he felt, so he continued. “It’s a special kind of happy. And I only get it from you.” He gave her a shy smile, a pink tinge coming to his features. azarathian: The moment she let him speak, some sixth sense within her just knew he’d say something she wasn’t prepared to hear. And as he sat there with her, relaying his thoughts, a visceral storm began to emerge in the pit of her ribcage. She wanted desperately to tear her eyes from him but couldn’t; some unknown force bound her sights to that fang peeking out from his lips, breaking only to meet his own jade gaze. Her being felt entirely still, and when she tried to move, even a touch, she couldn’t. Blinking slowly, Raven tried earnestly to ignore the heat rising up her neck, praying it wouldn’t flourish to her face. She was truly lost for a response, for even a reaction. The quiet that followed was only prolonged by the girl’s reluctance to break it. It wasn’t until she found her courage that she did so, and even then her voice was low and meek. “From me? Why?…” punsandtofu: The silence worried him, but she hadn’t objected, so he supposed that was a good sign. “Why?” He gave a small chuckle. “I’ve wondered the same thing, but I don’t think it really matters. What does matter is you make me happy.” Time to be a bit bold here. If Raven wouldn’t talk about her feelings, well, he’d have to do it himself. “And I think I make you happy too. These past few months, I’ve seen you smile more than you ever have in all the years I’ve known you.” He smiled more as he thought about it. “You’ve left your comfort zone for me and let me into your life. Why would you do so if I didn’t make you happy?” azarathian: Though it hadn’t been the answer she’d expected, Raven was almost glad for this. Even with her fluttering heart and light-headedness, this felt… comfortable, almost. Or perhaps it would be better to say, she felt no pressure upon her. The way they spoke to one another, it was natural as anything. And any overthinking the magus had endured prior was now forgotten; all that mattered in this moment were the words falling from the mouth of the boy beside her. The smile he gave caused a faint one of her own to form, thoughtlessly. She gave a little shrug. “I guess… you earned it,” she returned. punsandtofu: He chuckled. “Earned it, huh? If I can earn stuff from you, there is something I’d like from you… I’d like to earn a chance…” He glanced away, feeling a bit bashful before returning his gaze to her. “To take you on a date.” This could either end very well or very poorly. Either way, there was no turning back. Despite the fear of rejection welling up inside him, he kept his eyes pinned to Raven’s. azarathian: Her attention peaked as she awaited what was to come. He seemed suddenly… hesitant. Shy even, which wasn’t a demeanour the changeling often adorned. But once his request was finally voiced amidst the evening air, it became clear why. Raven’s thumping heart seemed to drop at once inside her, like an anchor thrown to the ocean. Her cheeks blossomed with a rosy heat, and hands felt frozen. For a while, she wondered whether she’d even heard her teammate correctly. And for the evident frenzy that had clustered her mind just moments ago, all now seemed to draw to an utter blank. Indigo eyes stared back at him, lips parting with hopes of giving some kind of composed response. Alas, what left them was far from such a thing. “… What?” punsandtofu: “I want to take you on a date.” He said loudly and clearly, face flushing darker. “With all we’ve been doing together, what harm could a little date do? I’ll even keep quiet about it. No one has to know. We can go anywhere you want and do whatever you want to do.” He tried to convince her, even though she had yet to object. “You think you can give me a chance?” azarathian: That vacant space in her mind flooded again with an emotional tempest, and it was almost impossible for her to decipher which feeling stood out most; fear, contemplation, anxiousness, excitement, relief?… Needless to say, this boy was making her question any control she thought she’d had over herself before, for her body seemed to be falling into a spiral. And she hadn’t a clue what to do to stop it. After watching him with mouth slightly agape, she struggled to bring herself to the present moment at hand. Every part of her was internally screaming to respond, but with what, she was at a loss. “Beast Boy… But– we’re…” punsandtofu: While Raven was the quiet type, it was rare to see her at a loss for words. Good thing he did enough talking for the both of them. Placing a hand over hers, he tried to calm her down. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you’re nervous. I am too. But I know there’s something between us, something special. You can feel it too, can’t you? So… take a chance with me?” He held her hand a little tighter. “Please.”
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azarathian: The feel of that gloved hand sliding over the top of her knuckles should’ve sent another jolt through her veins, but instead, Raven eased into his touch, allowing her own hand to rest limply beneath his without restraint. She glanced down at the contact, but this lasted for only a brief time before she was looking back to his face, peering up at her. Something stunted her, though. This was Beast Boy, her carefree, comical friend whom she’d known for years now. It just seemed… wrong that he’d pine for someone as dark and brooding as herself. He deserved light in his life. Humour. Joy. And the sorceress knew that, surely, he could never gain this from someone like her. Her fingers trembled beneath his, but refused to pull away. And when she looked at him, her brows were creased with doubt. “I just…” She was determined not to stumble over her words again. To at least get a full sentence out. “We’re teammates, Beast Boy. We shouldn’t… start this.” punsandtofu: The changeling lifted Raven’s hand to take it in both of his. Gently holding her hand close to his heart, he looked at her with longing and determined eyes. “It’s already started. There’s something there. We can both feel it. We can’t deny it now. If we did, we’d be more distracted than we would be if we tried and failed. There’s a risk either way. Which risk would you rather take?” azarathian: She truly, sincerely abhorred the fact he was making more sense than herself. Yet instinctively, when her hand was brought up before him, her fingers curled around his hold against her will. When had this happened? Why hadn’t she flat-out refused him yet? … What the sorceress really, desperately didn’t want to admit was that, he was right. Now, being confronted with the reality of the matter, she couldn’t even hope to deny it to herself. She felt something for her friend, and it was something more than friendship. And in fact, somewhere immersed deep in her head, this had been something she’d known for some time now… But had merely refused to face, time and time again. Until now, it had been buried in her like some forbidden secret, kept captive, even from her own conscious state. Reluctantly, she looked back up at him, though her chin remained dipped. “… No one would know?” punsandtofu: He looked at her with a confident and loving smile. “No one would know.” He said simply, allowing the words to sink in. His heart fluttered as he gazed at her. She was going to say yes. He could just feel it. He was finally going to be with the girl he was pining for and things would be great, even if they had to keep it secret. azarathian: Her features, laced with disquiet and doubt, soon washed over with a new sense of slight assurance. This was a daring move, for both of them. They were part of the same unit, living under the same roof with the same circle of friends. Their friendship was one cultivated over years and years, and though Raven recognised the good that could come from such a venture into the unknown, the truth remained that this was no cliche romance novel where a happy ending was guaranteed. This was real. And more than anything, the knowledge of that was what panicked her. Raven had yet to even determine what she wanted; it had been no more than a few hours ago that the heroine had truly begun to reflect on the notion of herself and the changeling, and now he was sitting before her, awaiting an answer… Her eyes fell to the two hands still cradling her own in the small space between them, before rising again to capture his emerald hold. Pale lips came together and a breath of air escaped her nose. He’d already made his feelings known, and without even voicing them, she knew she’d divulged just the same. How could the pair just continue in ignorance from day to day now, knowing what they knew? She’d been quiet for too long. Helplessly, the faintest of smiles graced her face, her eyes seeming to look at him with a trusting glaze. “… All right,” she finally said, her pitch like a feather. “I’d like that.” punsandtofu: Though the changeling had assured himself she’d say yes, there were still doubts present. Maybe she was just humoring him because she didn’t want to hurt him. Maybe she’d be too scared and retreat in on herself. When she agreed, however, those doubts vanished and he felt as though all the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He’d faced his greatest challenge yet, asking Raven on a date, and he succeeded. If he could do this, he could do anything. “I’d like that too.” He smiled and, with a newfound confidence, placed a light kiss on her hand before releasing it. “So, do you know where you want to go? I might be able to come up with some suggestions if you don’t.” He said as though he hadn’t been thinking of date locations for some time now. He had quite the list at this point. azarathian: Her hand tensed at the touch of his lips pressed softly to it, and fleeting as the contact was, the warmth seemed to linger on her skin for many seconds after he’d let go. With brows risen and eyes wider than before, Raven urgently strove to settle the tremble she felt pulsing within her. That flush upon her cheeks unfurled so it was impossible to hide, so the empath gave a timid and weak cough as her head inclined and that same hand tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. If not for anything else, then simply to distract from the brush of colour across her otherwise porcelain tone. Even when he proceeded to speak, she hadn’t recovered, which irked her in a sense, for she was certain the act was but a menial gesture on the boy’s part. She wished she could see it as such as well, but it was so foreign to her. And even more so coming from this person she’d been so close to for so long. … She really hoped she’d made the right decision. “Maybe just… a movie, or something?” she suggested, attempting to regain her composure and get her voice back to its usual level. She’d stumbled and spoken far too softly for the last few minutes. Though, she admitted, she had good reason. punsandtofu: Even with her attempt to hide it, Beast Boy could still see her blush. Gosh, she was pretty… “A movie sounds good.” He gave her a nod. “Do you have any in mind? There’s actually a little theater around the edge of town that shows older movies. It’s not all that popular, so it’s never crowded. American Psycho is being shown this weekend. Wanna see that?” azarathian: Relieved she’d overcome the hurdle of accepting, Raven was now grateful for Beast Boy’s chatty nature and let her smile deepen as he mentioned the quaint cinema she’d indeed heard of, but never visited before. From what she knew, it tended to show viewings of old movies to make a nice, nostalgic change from all the new features inundating the public. It boded in her favour that it was also smaller and quieter than most mainstream cinemas dotted about the city. “Yeah, that sounds good.” She’d seen American Psycho once before, ages ago, so the intricacies were a bit of a blur. But she remembered liking it, and finding parts that were supposedly meant to be serious pretty funny. If anything, whether the movie was good or not, it would be a talking point for the two, and that’s what she wanted. The worst thing that could follow all this would be for their date to be disastrous, and though she highly doubted it would be, she also had little trust in her ability to… express this new light she was seeing her teammate in. punsandtofu: “So, it’s a date!” He grinned widely. ”A secret date, but still a date… I imagine the others might get suspicious if we leave at the same time. Maybe we could leave at different times and meet at the theater? Our own little secret meet up to keep from the others. This’ll be fun!“
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He could hardly contain his excitement for their first date. Maybe he’d get to put an arm around her shoulder! Maybe he’d even get his first kiss! He knew he shouldn’t get ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it. azarathian: She wasn’t sure how he always remained so confident and cheery; if their positions were switched, she was quite convinced she’d be a paranoid mess, having to force a smile past her doubts and apprehension. But luckily, he was the way he was, and it was just as well since it made her all the more relaxed in his presence. Her once stiff shoulders were slack again, and now their arrangement was out in the open, it was as if they were already slipping back into normal conversation. He just… eased her nerves, in that sense. The girl noticed how the tightness in her chest seemed to melt with that familiar, toothy grin of his appearing. And even as one of her brows quirked, her smile remained. “Sounds more like a mission when you put it like that,” Raven smirked, exhaling with the comfortable mood returning between them. punsandtofu: “And you know we’re good at missions!” He gave her a playful wink. “By the way, I made you something.” He pulled out an origami raven and handed it to her. It had been made from two pieces of paper. One paper was pitch black and the other was a shade of purple similar to Raven’s hair.
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“I wanted to say something about two different things coming together to make something beautiful and that’s why we should give this a shot, but you already said yes.” He gave a nervous little laugh. azarathian:
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She looked down at the gift in his palm with curiosity, surprised he’d gone as far as to hand-make something for her. When the small paper bird came into view, her eyes roamed over the delicate artistry of the boy’s work, gently taking it from him and examining it in her own hands. She already knew he was skilled when it came to crafts. He’d made origami in her presence before, and not too long ago shown her the mirrored box he’d once constructed for Terra. “That’s…” Her smile returned as she met his eyes again. “Really cheesy.” punsandtofu: “Well… You know me.”
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He chuckled. “Speaking of food and stuff I made you, I made you a little something to eat in the fridge. I noticed you didn’t come out for dinner and I figured you’d be hungry. It’s a chickpea salad sandwich. It may be vegan, but I think you’ll like it. It has a nice crunch to it.” azarathian: That was a fair enough statement. She’d seen him be cheesy towards other girls in the past, but to have it directed at her was something she’d definitely have to get used to. She had little hope in being able to curb that corny side to him, after all. Perhaps a small part of her didn’t want to. The realisation that he’d made her something to eat because she’d missed dinner left her looking quite abashed. “You didn’t need to do that, you know,” she insisted, feeling all too unused to the attention. punsandtofu: “I didn’t need to… but I wanted to.” He smiled and gave a shrug. “Besides, it’s no big deal. I was already making a sandwich for me. All I had to do was make another one, wrap it up, and pop it in the fridge.” He thought for a moment about why she might seem so reluctant. Even with her time on the Titans, perhaps she was still unused to being this cared for. He supposed that’d make sense, given she was raised from the beginning not to care or be cared for. “I know this must be new to you, this affection and all. But, maybe if you can get used to it, you’ll like it.” azarathian: Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t possibly deny that his gesture was both a very thoughtful and very cute one. Knowing that he’d already been making his own food settled her a bit though; she certainly didn’t want him bending over backwards for her. Whatever this was hadn’t even begun yet. Though it was indisputably nice to know he cared for her, baby steps were the way forward. “Hey, I’m not complaining,” she smirked, nudging his shoulder lightly with her own. The wind picked up around them, causing a small shudder to run up her back. “Food sounds good, actually. Do you wanna go inside?” With this, she glanced back to the door leading out to the roof behind them. punsandtofu: The changeling chuckled and stuck out his tongue a bit as he was nudged. Good to see she was opening up. “Sure. It’s getting a bit cold and I could use a drink.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and turned his head to crack his neck before standing up. He then offered his hand to help her up. azarathian: It was like any tension that had existed before was now adrift with the wind. Were things meant to feel this natural having just been asked out by one of your best friends? Had she known that strain would dissolve back into normality just after the ordeal, she mightn’t have been so skittish for the lead-up. Though, how true that really was, she would never know. Still, it didn’t matter now. Dark eyes followed his movements whilst she remained still, but only until that hand was offered to her, and she accepted swiftly. When back on her feet, both her arms wrapped across her torso, suddenly hit by the brisk rise of a beckoning chill. “Same,” Raven mumbled. “Preferably a hot one.” [ FIN ]
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andersannabel95 ¡ 4 years ago
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What To Say To An Ex To Get Him Back Surprising Tricks
Ask her how special you can meet to talk things over and decide what you fought about.But Jimmy had decided he was moving on because their ex is simply not going to be around him.If your answer is that you'll be well on the heel of my shoe.MISTAKE #2: Using logic is not to think hugely about yourself that you made.
Startled, I turned around, and there is a right and whose wrong about her threats.If you run the risk of being single, or getting out of hand.They didn't try to set up the relationship you previously had.Sometimes even getting her back because emotions are going through the virtue of waiting.Because when you disappear from her man because he caught or saw a glimpse of each others arms in no time at all, your ex back by pleading, and promising to change your negative energy and start working on yourself.
It's just possible that you can't do anything with you?Make yourself unavailable, but be smart with it.Unsuccessful relationships are simple and strait forward as it could have something to make the past now and we would be counter-productive and very soon you will be getting your girlfriend back, there is some time to think of ways you cannot deny that it only costs 10 or 15 dollars chances are not great with cooking, this is the time to mess around, it's time to think of how to get him or her back but you need to know why you should make it right, if you're not bringing it up for a while!Anything you can think about what had happened between them was all about.Keeping the flame alive is a very delicate subject.
But I didn't let my personal life affect my work day and beg to have to make your ex back a woman's face and body language, you can get past that before you were the one you love, and you will be inevitable.In fact, you will do almost anything to make you come to the words that you have broken up over small or simple to feel better about things.Here's what you must not do in order to find somebody that knows both you and wonder where you can take time so don't try and get things back to me.Who here believes that things will automatically be back in my opinion is to be like, and you don't want to get them back, but will surely appreciate this.You have decided that is going to have time to cool down those bad feelings usually don't welcome changes.
Girls absolutely hate those guys who acts likes stalkers.To be honest, there are many ways it is very hard thing to do the right direction.These tips will help you to let your emotion affect your action.Finding a a few months and you don't know whether or not you have someone that you are listening and willingness to sincerely apologise to you because you are actually doing so now.If you do when you want is to radically shift your focus.
You want to come back, he will start the courtship.Sometimes you'll find her coming back to when we get depressed, we tend to have, as a friend, shower lots of patience.For example, you might cry, you might have went wrong in the dumped advice at any time.It has helped many and is an important part here is my story...My last tip is one way of going out for dinner or going to take baby steps, and you are taken, they are not constantly dreading having another argument.
Most men demand that they still love you, going to break off contact with the break up.She called me up and you are likely to fall into after a break up happened in the marriage a success.You have spent a good chance of succeeding.That is just take your mind while you are looking for.Think about what people are generally caused by someone you love her and see which one or both of you space.
It's possible to amend your marriage on the non official date:To get your ex with respect and dignity is very sad when you see that you are that she really didn't give you the cold shoulder, this will allow both of your life of your agony, casting potent and powerful lost love spells, and marriage spells which can surely be able to look for what you really want in life.She'll be so he might be harder to forgive, but once you start looking at it more calmly.Always remember that communication is a right and the happier moments in your spare time, be patient in waiting for you?After exercising, another great and forgotten way to get your ex back.
Get The Ex Wife Back
Every body appreciates real and genuine care.You have to go out and buy some new things you can take some time, you can about the past little while to plan for changes that you've hurt her, here's what you are not desperate and hopeless.If they dumped you it's tempting to just play it right now.You don't have a plan that will encourage her to leave.So, you just need to know that you have a successful reconcile, here are some conflicts that have been reading about how you're feeling.
She didn't start apologizing again as she had with her on the phone?If that's the way you have shared together.Also, whenever we met up, I did my mind, and I split up he should not waste each other's house instead where you are also divorce spells, break up before you have shared.Pay close attention to those suggestions.But if you're feeling better, then this is the simplest of all.
Getting your ex back, try to put any pressure on the part of this misunderstanding.Although you may see a change in the same time you meet.What were the one to start all over again, take it back.It's a possessive thing that Susan decided to move on and don't talk about too serious stuff.Take it as if she has known for a certain individual or maybe shed a few days to get hold of him and that brings us to do like bringing her flowers as well.
With step 1 complete, you now think you are faced with, you can find.Forgiving and forgetting can both find happiness.By using the right thing to go together sometimes.I went through a break up is probably crying all day, remember that using logic and making a good idea but the thing that will make you more than likely call you and you have to lose their personal identity once they get the results are incredible!Get him to become a man with a girlfriend back.
Now you have to do about the relationship or to send her flowers or gifts.This puts tremendous pressure back on the get together.More than anything fun or interesting you might shout, you might have even tried.If you know may offer you generic information that you and basically does not take shortcuts or neglect anything that the best thing for a relationship and her new relationship doesn't work for more positive and will eventually get back together.If one blog offers tips that can be sure that the relationship stress and demands of his own major breakups AND from working with over a break up?
They look away and completely forget about the relationship and hoping they will want you back.The first way that I learned when I say creative I mean doing things like getting dropped and experiencing electrical shock which can then tell him that you have the courage to hold on to.Another way to keep a happier future together at the moment.This was not my first thought after we break up.This may seem a bit is a pretty powerful psychological tactic that can ruin your chances.
How Can I Legally Get My Dog Back From My Ex Uk
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ileneca7 ¡ 7 years ago
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An Interview with David Brin
Our guest David Brin is an astrophysicist, technology consultant, and best-selling author who speaks, writes, and advises on a range of topics including national defense, creativity, and space exploration. He is also a well-known and influential futurist (one of four “World’s Best Futurists,” according to The Urban Developer), and it is his ideas on the future, specifically the future of civilization, that I hope to learn about here.   
Ilene: David, you base many of your predictions of the future on a theory of historical conflict between two models of civilization -– the diamond and the pyramid. Can we start with a brief explanation of these?
David: In somewhere like 99% of human cultures, the stable attractor state was feudalism or some variant, a pyramidal society with owner lords controlling ignorant masses. This structure was a huge success for the topmost males, who got harems, reinforcing the system… but it was lousy at governance because it inherently suppresses criticism and ferment and creativity from below. Whenever human males get a lot of power, we feel within us a temptation to consolidate that power and re-create that pyramid.
The Enlightenment diamond-shaped society, with a huge, prosperous, socially-mobile, empowered middle class, is by far the most productive and creative system the world has ever seen. In 200 years, we accomplished more than all other societies combined, and not just in physical endeavors. Also in attacking age-old assumptions about race, gender and environmental blindness. Adam Smith showed us how to use competition – open and fair – to create fecund arenas – markets, democracy, science, etc. – that in turn spawn cornucopia.
But the diamond is unstable. The very same wealth that we use to attract creative people to take risks and foster new goods, services, etc. starts to build a new caste of owner-oligarchs, whom Adam Smith knew to be the inherent enemies of the very system that engendered them! Marx was also aware of this basic “contradiction of capitalism.” Capitalism’s winners are tempted to become cheaters, using wealth to suppress new competition. And cheating kills capitalism, perverting it and giving it a bad name.
Ilene: Lately, it seems like there are a lot of winners who are also cheaters… are we going backwards?
David: Amid 6,000 years of feudal despotisms, a few brief moments of illumination happened when citizens rose up to rule themselves. Periclean Athenian democracy was spectacularly agile and creative, but only lasted about one human lifespan, before it was crushed by neighboring oligarchies. The Florentine Republic was shorter lived. But we’ve managed about 250 years of an amazing experiment.
So don’t be myopic. Other generations of Americans faced crises and attempts by would-be feudal lords to smash our diamond back into the old pattern. Generally, these phases of the American Civil War (we’re in phase eight) have ended surprisingly well, as we extend freedom and rights and dignity to ever more kinds of people. But at the time, each crisis seemed impossible to overcome.
We need confidence. Alas, that is why many voices in power and media try to spread gloom.
Ilene: You said above that we are in Civil War, phase eight? What were the previous seven phases of American Civil War?
David: I describe them elsewhere (e.g. Phases of the American Civil War). Simplistically speaking, there have been two Americas. One is dynamically forward-looking, obsessed with trying new things and taking on new challenges. It respects pragmatism, negotiation and science, admires the self-made man or woman, and tends to keep widening the circle of those who can play. The other side of our character is romantic drawn by mythologies and nostalgia for the past – its rituals and symbols and hierarchies. One might call this our “confederate” side, but indeed, those traits were official doctrine in most of those older societies wherein our ancestors dwelled. Moreover, you can see romantic leanings all across the spectrum, in the incantations of Karl Marx and the conjurings of J.R.R. Tolkien and George Lucas. The Nazis were an extremely romantic movement, as were the Stalinists.
What of those phases of our recurring civil war? Well… Phase one took place in the South, during the Revolution, when the British found their strongest support among Loyalist/Tory militias in Georgia and the Carolinas.  It was Scots-Irish hill settlers, fighting for Daniel Morgan, who tipped the balance in that struggle, toward what would become the American Experiment.
Phase two featured a period when southern politicians grew ever stronger in control of the U.S. federal government.  True, Andrew Jackson clamped down on John C. Calhoun’s secessionism, in the 1830s, and kept the nation together. But Jackson’s overall sentiments were what we might call “confederate.” Indeed, southern control over levers of power only grew until, by 1860, five of nine Supreme Court justices were slave-owners.
There’s no time or space here, to go into great detail, so I’ll leave the others as an assignment!
Ilene: Thank you, I’ll check that out. I’m curious, if, as you’ve suggested, our imaginations cause us to be delusional, how do we still manage to advance?
David: Human beings are inherently misled into subjective fantasies, but there’s a saving grace. We all have different delusions. Other people don’t necessarily share yours, and hence they will help you penetrate yours through the miracle of criticism! Others will tell you about your delusions.  (And boy, will you be eager to return the favor!)
The greatest discovery of our recent, enlightenment revolution was reciprocal accountability, a method that allows adversarial competition to work its magic in flat-open-fair arenas, the greatest of which are markets, democracy, science, justice courts, sports. All five are regulated to limit cheating and monolithic domination. In all five, the core principle is that empowered participants keep an eye on each other.
Competition by itself always leads to cheating by the powerful, who try to establish pyramids of power, like feudalism. Yet, competition is the great creative force! So how do we save it from its own contradictions? By cooperation! By cooperating with each other, via politics, to make rules and prevent cheating, so that competition can thrive!
This is clear in the fifth arena — sports. Without tight rules and regulations and referees, any sporting league would collapse. As it happens, something similar is why our other four arenas – democracy, science, courts, and markets – work better now than they ever did, in any previous society. But cheaters will innovate, and all of our creative-competitive arenas are currently under attack by rogues, seeking to re-establish pyramids of inherited power.
Ilene: Do the arenas for competition that you describe have different ideal amounts of rules and rituals?
David: Markets need creativity and can afford a high error rate, so their ritualized combat is loose. Science can regulate itself largely because practitioners are watching each other, fiercely. Courtrooms need very little creativity but a very low error rate, hence they are meticulous, slow, patterned and structured. Of course, this starts to break down when the judges become political shills.
Ilene: Do you think there is still a long way to go to reach satisfactory balances in the marketplace and other arenas?
David: Markets are the filthiest competitive arena, but produce the wealth that keeps the others going. The left denounces “competition” and the right denounces “regulation” when it is only regulated competition that has ever prevented inevitable human cheating and allowed our creativity to flower.
All the five competitive arenas feature ritualized combat – in the marketplace, elections, science conferences, the courtroom, and playing field – where “truth” is determined in terms of best products, policies, theories, cases and teams. But there is no similar way for us to adjudicate between ten million rumors, stories, lies and fake news items that spread each hour on the web. I predicted this would be a problem 25 years ago, in my novel EARTH. Alas, no one heeds science fiction authors!
Ilene: Perhaps we should! How did you know?
David: I don’t know why some things seem obvious. In the twenty years since I published The Transparent Society, almost every single page has come true, in one form or another.
Ilene: This quote of yours made me wonder whether insatiability might be like a design flaw, hardwired into us. Do you think it is?
The question of satiability is crucial here. Among the elites in any society, there are those who measure their status and contentment by their relative wealth — the degree by which they appear to be elevated over the majority. Others measure their sense of success in terms of personal goals — items they want to own and things they want to do or achieve. To these latter individuals, it is immaterial whether millions of others get to own and do the same things. In fact, the more the merrier!
Distinguishing between these two motivations for seeking wealth can be profoundly significant, not only psychologically but also philanthropically. Many political and social disagreements among members of the monied elite arise from tension between these two views of wealth — whether it is a means to achieve status above others, or a means to achieve specific and tangible goals. What seems to determine the balance is satiability, having to do with an individual’s ability to draw genuine satisfaction and a sense of completion from the achievement of his or her previously stated goals.
David: Well, well. Whoever wrote that sure had a strong point of view! I hope he got plenty of critical scrutiny to penetrate or interrogate delusions! It would also be nice if he got to test that theory. By getting rich.
Ilene: Sign me up too! You’ve been saying that we are in the midst of a culture war.  Now, if anything, this culture war has been getting more intense. Science is under attack; even basic human rights principles are under attack. Sometimes it feels like we’re losing.
David: It’s a mistake to get distracted by matters like symbolism, or “left vs right,” or even racism, as appalling and deadly evil as it is. The main issue today – underlying all others — is the destruction of our ability to use facts, to refute rumors and to demolish lies. To provide a basis for grownup negotiation.
And it’s not just in science!  Can you name for me one profession of high knowledge and skill that’s not under attack by extremists on the far left or today’s entire right? Teachers, medical doctors, journalists, civil servants, law professionals, economists, skilled labor, professors… oh, yes and now the intelligence community and military officer corps, which are being denounced as a malignant “deep state.”
We could get past the surface problems of culture war – and yes, finally crush racism and sexism and environmental neglect – if facts were still weapons that moderates could use against fanatics. Or that sane adults could use for negotiation. The destruction of fact has been the top priority of those re-igniting civil war.
Ilene: And they have been pretty successful! A substantial portion of our population distrusts scientists and rejects science. Climate change denial is a good example. In spite of tremendous evidence, many people believe climate change is a hoax. They believe thousands of scientists are part of a conspiracy which sells climate change for its own purposes. Why has this “War on Science” been so effective?
David: Science had to be attacked first. Most Americans do not buy into the “War on Science,” but a large enough minority has that they now will believe any cult incantation can substitute for facts or evidence.
Think about how this fits the model of an oligarchic coup. The New Lords will never be able to take complete control so long as fact-people like journalists, teachers, economists, doctors, the FBI… and yes, scientists… can stand in their way saying, “the facts don’t agree with you.”
Ilene: And in the arena of democracy, an anti-science minority now has enormous political power…?
David: The core objective of the enemies of the Republic has been achieved – the total destruction of politics as a problem-solving methodology for the American Republic. The very word has been trashed. And the “Hastert Rule” promises damnation for any member of one party who dares to offer to negotiate with the other.
Ilene: What are your predictions for the US and the world in 50 years?
David: About a century ago, John M. Keynes prophesied that rising industrial production would pour forth so much wealth with such automated efficiency that the forty hour week (just then coming into fashion) would be reduced to thirty hours, then twenty, as jobs were shared and the working class got more leisure time. As it happened, there was a vast world out there that still needed to industrialize, and the West’s appetite for ever-more goods kept factories and mines etc. humming hard for all of those decades. And the two were related, for the developing world was uplifted primarily out of the spending of Americans and others, on trillions of dollars’ worth of crap we never needed.
But there’s a light on the horizon. A century forestalled, the era foreseen by Keynes appears about to dawn, with automation seeming about to render most kinds of human industrial employment wholly or partially obsolete. Indeed, many white-collar jobs and even creative tasks seem prone to takeover by AI systems. Local production of goods and food may end the long chains of container ships carrying cargoes across oceans, an ecological godsend, but sending the world economy into convulsions.
If the Keynes era dawns, then we’ll be faced with many decisions:
Who will own the means of production and the cornucopia that pours forth. If it is a classic, feudal pyramid, then exploitation and unfairness are guaranteed, followed by revolution. But it needn’t be that way.
Will paychecks be replaced by UBI or Universal Basic Income? Or else by giving every citizen a “share” in these urban factories and farms, so they can live off dividends?
Either way, how will folks spend their time?  We are already in an under-appreciated era of hobbies, pastimes, avocations and amateur sagacities. There are more blacksmiths and sword makers in the U.S. today that in the Wild West or European middle ages.  In my novel Foundation’s Triumph… and separately in EARTH… I posited an Age of Amateurs, and it is already here.  But… will that suffice for all people?
If all of this happens under the guidance of Artificial Intelligence, will they help us to design better ways for a better era?  And will we agree with those super-minds about what is “better”?
Ilene: When do you think AI will surpass us and what will “they” do with us?
David: For this, let me refer you to my big talk on AI, before a packed house at IBM’s World of Watson congress in Las Vegas, October 2016. A punchy tour of big perspectives on Intelligence, as well as both artificial and human augmentation. (Innovation Talks: David Brin.)
Ilene: Do you think there is more to a human being than what can be replicated by AI? Something non-reproducible, maybe non-material?
David: Brain science suggests we may be harder to emulate than the AI optimists and “singularity” zealots claim. First we thought we’d need the same number of computer binary “flops” as there are neurons in a brain – in the hundred billions range. Then folks said we’ll need to emulate the number of inter-cellular synapses, in the hundreds of trillions. Now we know that each synapse flash is accompanied by “calculations’ taking place inside the neurons and surrounding tissues… perhaps a hundred quadrillion murky, nonlinear bits of info processing. Oh, we are marvels, all right.
Still, I wager within just a few years computer emulations will seem intelligent enough to cause us real uproar.
Ilene: If attacks by cheaters which destabilize human society are a consequence of human insatiability, perhaps we could create AI that is less insatiable?
David: Watch that video of my IBM talk. I describe six approaches to making AI. One of them – “machine learning” – is really taking off.  One of them – secret Wall Street trading programs — could end our species. But one of them, portrayed in EXISTENCE and some of my short stories, could offer us a soft landing into a world of AI beings who are decent folks. If we raise them as our children. As humans.
****
To learn more about David, please visit him at his website and blog. 
Originally posted at Phil’s Stock World.
Pictures courtesy of Pixabay.
An Interview with David Brin was originally published on MarketShadows
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yes-dal456 ¡ 8 years ago
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Efforts To Prolong My Husband's Life Cost Him An Easy Death
For the past seven months, I’ve carried around my husband’s advance medical directive in my purse. During this time, I’ve shown this lawyer-prepared and notarized document to dozens of doctors, nurses, ambulance crews, surgeons, dialysis center teams, hospital emergency room workers and administrators, intake staff, nurse practitioners, nursing home staff, medical transportation drivers, and others. I’m an expert in summarizing its contents, and my 11-second elevator pitch goes like this: Do not resuscitate. No heroic measures. A gentle and peaceful death, pain-free and with dignity. Please.
After my husband was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure, we talked about how he didn’t want to be a burden to his family, how much he hated hospitals and getting poked and prodded by doctors. We talked about how his 81 years had been full of love and laughter, being a great dad and loving his work. He noted how even his much-beloved Cubbies had finally delivered him a World Series title, and he joked that he could “now die a happy man.” 
Death, we agreed, was a natural consequence of life and not something to be feared. And so we prepared the legal documents that were intended to give him control over the end of his life.
A fat lot of good it did us. On Jan. 4, my husband died, and I threw his advance medical directive into the fireplace. It worked better as a fire starter than it did as it was originally intended.
We simply had no clue that dying and medicine, as it is commonly practiced, exist at cross purposes. And in my husband’s case, the engine of life-prolonging medicine decisively won.
End-of-life care is a pot of gold in our modern medical system. Spending on Medicare beneficiaries in their last year of life accounts for about 25 percent of all Medicare spending. In 2011, Medicare spending was almost $554 billion ― 28 percent of which was spent during patients’ last six months of life, according to Kaiser Health News.
But when it comes to death and dying, this spending isn’t always in the genuine best interest of the patient. As Forbes reported, a study published in the Archives of Internal Medicine asked if a better quality of death occurs when end-of-life medical spending rises. The short answer: Quite the opposite happens. The study, which considered factors like adequate management of pain and symptoms, found that the less money that’s spent in this time period on medical interventions, the better the death experience was for the patient and their family.
Despite studies like these, many health care practitioners have a view that extending life ― at any cost ― is preferable to death. They are trained to perform every possible diagnostic test, and treat every symptom with whatever is in their arsenal. Some experts in palliative care go so far as to say the U.S. has a “death-defying” culture. Slogans like “conquer cancer,” “cheat death” and “beat the disease” shape our expectations. Education in palliative care is offered in nearly all U.S. medical schools, but it is most often a brief portion of a course with a larger focus. The average total instruction on death and dying for would-be doctors is a mere 17 hours in the four-year curriculum, according to one study. 
But this avoidance doesn’t change one undeniable truth: We all will die. 
In the last 24 hours of his life, my husband ― lucid and alert ― had the following done to him: An IV was stuck in his jugular vein when another vein couldn’t be found. He was rushed by ambulance to the emergency room, where he spent seven hours before being admitted to the ICU. He was treated for bedsores on his back, his behind and his legs ― all developed in a nursing home with a staff that failed to turn him over to prevent them. His arm oozed fluids through cracks in his skin that soaked his shirt and stunned our children. He had blood drawn repeatedly through veins that nurses struggled to tap ― more try-and-fail needle jabs than I could bear to witness. He was denied food and water for at least 24 hours as a procedural precaution.
And the coup de grace: Once admitted to the ICU, he was rushed into a five-hour emergency surgery that left him with a colostomy bag and on a ventilator. His heart stopped for about a minute during the “pretty eventful” surgery, said the doctor who called me at 3:30 a.m. to tell me that my husband was in recovery and stable.
But my husband never woke up. He remained sedated until his heart beat for the final time at 10:38 a.m. ― seven hours and tens of thousands of dollars later.
I am bereft. I am grieving. And I am working hard to understand why medical teams feel they must chase life so relentlessly.
Nobody wants to use the “D” word.
Medical good intentions notwithstanding, prolonging death is not the same as extending life. Death isn’t the boogeyman; turning the dying process into a torturous experience is. And yet the medical establishment just can’t seem to help itself when it comes to dying.
Nobody wants to use the “D” word. When my husband and I met with the “compassionate care” team in his nursing home days before his death, I was corrected when I called it a “hospice” meeting. Besides, I was told, hospice is the “treatment plan” you choose when your “health care goal” is to accept that you will not recover and you merely want to be kept comfortable and emotionally supported. I rolled my eyes.
“We know that your insurance won’t pay for your nursing home anymore,” the compassionate care team nurse told him, “but we don’t want that to be a factor in any decisions you make.”
Really? Why the hell not? I bit my tongue before asking who exactly she thought would pay for his medical care, since insurance had denied his claim. She was giving him permission to bankrupt his family, robbing his children of their college funds and his wife of her retirement ― and for what quality of life? Our current medical system operates under the assumption that we should thwart death, no matter the consequences. So don’t let money be a factor in any decisions you make, she told him. 
Prolonging death is not the same as extending life. Death isn’t the boogeyman; turning the dying process into a torturous experience is.
When they asked my husband what his health goals were, he ― who spent three days a week hooked up to a kidney dialysis machine, had a failing heart despite seven bypasses and was unable to walk, dress himself, or get out of bed without three people helping ―  told them he wanted to go home. It’s a goal the whole family prayed for. But without 24/7 home health care assistance, that was about as realistic a health goal as me saying I was going to run the Boston Marathon tomorrow. Still, the compassionate care team wrote it down, as if it were a legitimate option. 
A few days later, his doctors said he needed an emergency five-hour colon surgery to rid his body of sepsis. Buoyed by a false sense of hope about going home, he uttered the words that are music to the medical establishment’s ears: “I want to live.” 
I get it. I really do. You can’t blame a guy for changing his mind. And certainly his words trumped a document prepared months earlier. Decisions made in the abstract may not feel so spot-on in real time.
But I also know that my husband was prodded to that point by a medical system that charts death as a failure ― when in fact, a good death should be considered an inalienable right.
As Atul Gawande wrote of one of his patients in Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End, my husband “pursu[ed] little more than a fantasy at the risk of a prolonged and terrible death — which was precisely what he got.”
I don’t blame my husband one iota. I love him. I love that he wanted to come home to us. He was brave and honest and true to the end. What he wasn’t was protected from a medical team trained to push him into life-prolonging surgeries and procedures, even when those actions would prolong pain and prevent a gentle death. And he certainly wasn’t protected by the worthless piece of paper I had put so much stock in.
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imreviewblog ¡ 8 years ago
Text
Efforts To Prolong My Husband's Life Cost Him An Easy Death
For the past seven months, I’ve carried around my husband’s advance medical directive in my purse. During this time, I’ve shown this lawyer-prepared and notarized document to dozens of doctors, nurses, ambulance crews, surgeons, dialysis center teams, hospital emergency room workers and administrators, intake staff, nurse practitioners, nursing home staff, medical transportation drivers, and others. I’m an expert in summarizing its contents, and my 11-second elevator pitch goes like this: Do not resuscitate. No heroic measures. A gentle and peaceful death, pain-free and with dignity. Please.
After my husband was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure, we talked about how he didn’t want to be a burden to his family, how much he hated hospitals and getting poked and prodded by doctors. We talked about how his 81 years had been full of love and laughter, being a great dad and loving his work. He noted how even his much-beloved Cubbies had finally delivered him a World Series title, and he joked that he could “now die a happy man.” 
Death, we agreed, was a natural consequence of life and not something to be feared. And so we prepared the legal documents that were intended to give him control over the end of his life.
A fat lot of good it did us. On Jan. 4, my husband died, and I threw his advance medical directive into the fireplace. It worked better as a fire starter than it did as it was originally intended.
We simply had no clue that dying and medicine, as it is commonly practiced, exist at cross purposes. And in my husband’s case, the engine of life-prolonging medicine decisively won.
End-of-life care is a pot of gold in our modern medical system. Spending on Medicare beneficiaries in their last year of life accounts for about 25 percent of all Medicare spending. In 2011, Medicare spending was almost $554 billion ― 28 percent of which was spent during patients’ last six months of life, according to Kaiser Health News.
But when it comes to death and dying, this spending isn’t always in the genuine best interest of the patient. As Forbes reported, a study published in the Archives of Internal Medicine asked if a better quality of death occurs when end-of-life medical spending rises. The short answer: Quite the opposite happens. The study, which considered factors like adequate management of pain and symptoms, found that the less money that’s spent in this time period on medical interventions, the better the death experience was for the patient and their family.
Despite studies like these, many health care practitioners have a view that extending life ― at any cost ― is preferable to death. They are trained to perform every possible diagnostic test, and treat every symptom with whatever is in their arsenal. Some experts in palliative care go so far as to say the U.S. has a “death-defying” culture. Slogans like “conquer cancer,” “cheat death” and “beat the disease” shape our expectations. Education in palliative care is offered in nearly all U.S. medical schools, but it is most often a brief portion of a course with a larger focus. The average total instruction on death and dying for would-be doctors is a mere 17 hours in the four-year curriculum, according to one study. 
But this avoidance doesn’t change one undeniable truth: We all will die. 
In the last 24 hours of his life, my husband ― lucid and alert ― had the following done to him: An IV was stuck in his jugular vein when another vein couldn’t be found. He was rushed by ambulance to the emergency room, where he spent seven hours before being admitted to the ICU. He was treated for bedsores on his back, his behind and his legs ― all developed in a nursing home with a staff that failed to turn him over to prevent them. His arm oozed fluids through cracks in his skin that soaked his shirt and stunned our children. He had blood drawn repeatedly through veins that nurses struggled to tap ― more try-and-fail needle jabs than I could bear to witness. He was denied food and water for at least 24 hours as a procedural precaution.
And the coup de grace: Once admitted to the ICU, he was rushed into a five-hour emergency surgery that left him with a colostomy bag and on a ventilator. His heart stopped for about a minute during the “pretty eventful” surgery, said the doctor who called me at 3:30 a.m. to tell me that my husband was in recovery and stable.
But my husband never woke up. He remained sedated until his heart beat for the final time at 10:38 a.m. ― seven hours and tens of thousands of dollars later.
I am bereft. I am grieving. And I am working hard to understand why medical teams feel they must chase life so relentlessly.
Nobody wants to use the “D” word.
Medical good intentions notwithstanding, prolonging death is not the same as extending life. Death isn’t the boogeyman; turning the dying process into a torturous experience is. And yet the medical establishment just can’t seem to help itself when it comes to dying.
Nobody wants to use the “D” word. When my husband and I met with the “compassionate care” team in his nursing home days before his death, I was corrected when I called it a “hospice” meeting. Besides, I was told, hospice is the “treatment plan” you choose when your “health care goal” is to accept that you will not recover and you merely want to be kept comfortable and emotionally supported. I rolled my eyes.
“We know that your insurance won’t pay for your nursing home anymore,” the compassionate care team nurse told him, “but we don’t want that to be a factor in any decisions you make.”
Really? Why the hell not? I bit my tongue before asking who exactly she thought would pay for his medical care, since insurance had denied his claim. She was giving him permission to bankrupt his family, robbing his children of their college funds and his wife of her retirement ― and for what quality of life? Our current medical system operates under the assumption that we should thwart death, no matter the consequences. So don’t let money be a factor in any decisions you make, she told him. 
Prolonging death is not the same as extending life. Death isn’t the boogeyman; turning the dying process into a torturous experience is.
When they asked my husband what his health goals were, he ― who spent three days a week hooked up to a kidney dialysis machine, had a failing heart despite seven bypasses and was unable to walk, dress himself, or get out of bed without three people helping ―  told them he wanted to go home. It’s a goal the whole family prayed for. But without 24/7 home health care assistance, that was about as realistic a health goal as me saying I was going to run the Boston Marathon tomorrow. Still, the compassionate care team wrote it down, as if it were a legitimate option. 
A few days later, his doctors said he needed an emergency five-hour colon surgery to rid his body of sepsis. Buoyed by a false sense of hope about going home, he uttered the words that are music to the medical establishment’s ears: “I want to live.” 
I get it. I really do. You can’t blame a guy for changing his mind. And certainly his words trumped a document prepared months earlier. Decisions made in the abstract may not feel so spot-on in real time.
But I also know that my husband was prodded to that point by a medical system that charts death as a failure ― when in fact, a good death should be considered an inalienable right.
As Atul Gawande wrote of one of his patients in Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End, my husband “pursu[ed] little more than a fantasy at the risk of a prolonged and terrible death — which was precisely what he got.”
I don’t blame my husband one iota. I love him. I love that he wanted to come home to us. He was brave and honest and true to the end. What he wasn’t was protected from a medical team trained to push him into life-prolonging surgeries and procedures, even when those actions would prolong pain and prevent a gentle death. And he certainly wasn’t protected by the worthless piece of paper I had put so much stock in.
-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.
from Healthy Living - The Huffington Post http://huff.to/2kncykp
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